Blog Awards!!

This post and all others have been moved to this sites new home on www.peterneill.eu

As many of you know I have made it to the final short list for the Irish Blog Awards (www.awards.ie), in the Most Humorous Post Category!!
The post that was nominated was "Don’t turn it off!!" & the awards are on the 11th of March in Dublin.
Sadly I cannot attend, but a very well known Irish comedian who is a friend of mine is going to represent me at the awards. His picture is below:

The First person to name him will win.........nothing, will not receive anything, will not benefit in any way whatsoever, probably not even receive an email from me, but you'll know you got there first...possibly........
Post your answers as comments to this post!!!

Think before you speak....

This post and all others have been moved to this sites new home on www.peterneill.eu


This little accident is one of the verbal kind. Needless to say the effect can be devastating in its own special way.
The year was 1998 and I was living with my parents in an Irish city called Kilkenny. My father at the time was the Bishop of the diocese covering that area.

One evening in the winter of that year my parents had to go out to some function or other, I don't remember what it was, but more than likely it was a service of some kind. During this time I was sat at home watching the television flicking through the channels, enjoying the novelty of having more than six to choose from!
However my channel surfing was short lived as shortly after my parents left the phone rang.
I ran to answer the phone, picked it up and said:

"Hello, See House, Peter Speaking" ('See' been the fancy name for a Bishop's residence)

"Hello, I wish to speak to the Bishop, is he available?"

"I'm afraid not, he is out this evening"

"That's Okay, Can you tell him that the Mayor rang, that's the Mayor of Kilkenny, spelt M.A.Y.O.R"

Taken aback by this spelling lesson I all too quickly engaged my lips before I could engage anything else! :

"Well! If its M.A.R.E you're a mighty intelligent horse!"

Too say this was met with a silence is something of an understatement. Thankfully after what seemed like ten seconds of silence (but was probably four), the Mayor responded:

"We'll I'm sure I'm not, just tell him that I called.....Goodbye!"

For anyone reading this who is for some bizarre reason considering hiring me for a public relations job....DON'T!

Accidental Assassination......almost!

This latest entry doubles up as the nearest I have yet come to creating a world wide diplomatic incident, my closest yet to starting a war, while at the same time becoming an Icon to many and an enemy to even more. This one is bad.

The year was 1995 and I was on work experience on a chat show on national TV. My work experience stint was only a brief one, but more than enough time to have a disaster!
On one particular episode on which I was working, Salmun Rushdie was a guest and was been interviewed by the host about his book "The Satanic Verses". As many of you know this book is hated by many of those who follow the Islamic faith and has lead to many threats and attempts on the life of Salmun Rushdie.
Anyway during the interview, the host signalled for a commercial break as one of the lights above the set was flickering.
Now fixing this light was going to be a tricky operation, one that would involve going hand and knee along a large girder in order to get to the light to turn it off. What would make this operation all the more daring was that since it required someone to crawl right above the heads of the host and Salmun Rushie, it would have to be completed before the advert break was over due to the noise level of someone above and the possible danger of them falling on top of those been interviewed below!

Can you see where this is going?

As you have probably guessed, yours truly was asked to crawl along this girder to fix this light and get back in three minutes.

What the person who asked me did not know was that :
a) I cannot deal with heights
b) I made strange things happen, albeit usually to myself

However, in order to not sound unwilling I accepted the task and climbed a ladder up to a metal walkway and psyched myself to begin my crawl.
I knew the clock was ticking and I had to be quick, I got on my hands and knees and shakily started my crossing. For the first few feet I moved very very slowly and then when I heard a two minute warning, I speeded myself up. Thankfully I managed to get to the light, across the remaining ten or so feet within about 25 seconds and was quite proud of myself that I had not yet panicked.
Now at the light I set about my task, a simple one, I just had to reach around the light and flick an off switch. The heat up there was astonishing and I found myself sweating terribly, which was made worse at the sweat was landing on the girder, just making it slippy. However I did not let this stop me and I reached around the light and turned it off. Achieved. Next thing I hear is another guy on the work experience with me shouting up to me that I had only 45 seconds to get back. I tried to turn around to make my way back but I panicked. Not only with this added pressure was I now getting seriously freaked by the height I was at, but the surface of the girder was wet with my sweat, and seriously slippy.
In a lunge I managed to turn around without slipping, but once I had I completely froze, I could not move an inch.

To make matters worse I had begged the other lad doing work experience (whom we will call Joe) not to tell the floor manager that I was still up there on the girder, as I was embarrassed and afraid I would get told off. Unfortunately he conceded and instead watched the whole process unfold.

As soon as I froze Joe tried to get me to move, telling me that I would be fine and that I just needed to come back slowly. This started to work and I could feel myself calming slightly, until.....

A shout went around the studio: "10 seconds everybody, 10 seconds till live".

I completely froze again, I knew I could not make it back in time and with this pressure I totally and utterly locked up, I could barely speak. Worse still Salmun Rushdie was sitting directly below me and as the commercial break ended and the show restarted, the topic of conversation was the various attempts on Salmun Rushdie's life since writing The Satanic Verses.

At this point Joe had stopped trying to get me to come back as the noise of me moving across the girder would be too loud and instead told me hold tight until the next advert break, thirty minutes away. He waited at the end of the girder, as if he was to descend the ladder to get help or let the others know, he would make too much noise too!!

The next thirty minutes were the longest of my life, added to the stress I was under, the fear of falling and the slippery girder, I was now getting seriously hot because of all the studio lights around me. This was a mere discomfort at first, but after about 15 minutes I started to feel extremely faint. I began to think I was going to indeed pass out, and drop straight on to the head of Salmun Rushdie, most likely accidentally succeeding where many had failed.

Thankfully my friend Joe was on the ball, and as if sent by angels he noticed there was a half full bottle of water sitting on the metal rig on which he was standing, left there earlier by one of the technicians. He managed to throw this to me, a risky manoeuvre in case I either failed to catch it and it hit someone below, or, if in my attempt to catch it I fell to meet Salmun Rushdie and my maker. Thankfully the third and the least likely option occurred, I caught the bottle. This crucial drink allowed me to survive the final 10 minutes before the commercial break, after which Joe came onto the girder and without incident guided me back to safety.

To this day I honestly think that half full bottle of water saved not only my life but Salmun Rushdie's too. He will never know just how close he came to destruction and I never came so close to becoming an icon to the many whom had failed before me where I nearly accidentally succeeded.

One more pair of trousers

Believe it or not there is one more tale of woe involving my trousers. This is actually my worst yet, and in many ways the most spectacular. No single incident has involved so many people with such catastrophic results. Here begins the lesson.

The Date: Friday 6th of June 1997 Location: My Bedroom, Crossmolina, Mayo, Ireland.

This was my last day of my last year of regular schooling. I was to start my final exams the following Monday. On this last day I decided not to bother going into school and instead was home 'studying'. Not very likely to be honest, but its what I told myself, and my parents.
I filled my morning with watching TV in bed, a truly worthwhile pursuit. However this bliss was not to last much longer, for the upstairs of this large house in Mayo was filled with a roar, and a loud one at that. My mother was calling me to tell me that Sister Mary, the Principle of the convent school to which I went was on the phone for me. I quickly darted out of bed panic-stricken that I was in trouble for dossing off school, for that is really what I was doing. I got the phone and picked up the receiver. What I heard next was this:

"Peter! Thank goodness we found you. You have to get into school right away, its urgent, and you must, you absolutely must wear your full uniform, Oh and by the way, Sister Fionnuala is on her way to collect you!"

To which I responded:
"Hello sister, I'll get dressed immediately, but I'm not sure my trousers are fit to wear"

And she said:
"You have to wear them, Sister Fionnuala will be with you in a minute!! Bye!"

I put down the receiver and started to panic. You see the previous day in school had finished with a "Rugby Match" or really a big fight over a ball. I was probably the strongest in my year and these matches would usually involve me dragging several people up the field with them hanging on to me trying to bring me down. This as you can imagine was not good for my clothing and by the final minutes of the match my trousers had endured the following:

1 X Broken Zip

1 X Completely torn though behind

Many many mud stains

2 X ripped trouser legs

1 X complete rip at the knee of the right leg.

I realised I had to work fast, I yelled downstairs to my mother who came upstairs armed with sellotape and safety pins, for there was no time to sow anything. We managed to tape the rips on my right knee and on the trouser legs when the front door bell rang. SISTER FIONNUALA WAS HERE.
Panic stricken I did a quick safety pin job on the backside of my trousers and jumped into them and the rest of my tattered uniform and legged it downstairs. However at this point my trouser zip was still not fixed and I decided I would have to fix it on the way with the Sister Fionnuala, a nun if you were not sure!
I remember she looked shocked at my appearance when I jumped into the car and even more shocked when I started fiddling with my zip and trying to close it with three safety pins while sitting in the passenger seat of her car!
(She told my mother later that she was afraid I might put it through something I shouldn’t)
The school was about three miles away and as we pulled up I had finally managed to sort of close my fly and hobbled out of the car. The first thing I noticed was that the place was deserted, not a soul to be seen. I went inside the main entrance and looked around. At this point my walk had been reduced to a careful scurry, as I had to take very short strides to avoid stressing the main precarious joins in my trousers. Inside the school there was still not a soul to be seen anywhere.
The next thing I hear is the intercom:
"Would Peter Neill please come to the Gym Hall immediately"
I filled with shock at what I had just heard made my way to the door of the gym and pushed it open and peeked inside. What I saw was horrendous. There before my eyes were all 600 students lined up according to year. My first reaction was to hobble over towards my classmates and join the line. I made it halfway, and then my luck broke. Over the speakers came the following:

"Would Peter Neill please come up onto the stage".

I had no idea what was going on but I knew I had to obey and march forth towards the stage.
At this point everyone was looking at me, my precarious walk and my simply unique leg coverers, as they simply could no longer be referred to as trousers. Giggles started around different parts of the Gym but were swiftly muted by the patrolling teachers. I started what seemed like the longest walk of my life, from the back of the gym to the stage, my own personal Green Mile. After what seemed like forever I made it to the stage and was faced with yet another problem, this 5 foot high stage had no steps, but instead large blocks of wood which you used to get up to the top. I realised that the required separation of my legs in order to overcome this obstacle was not a viable possibility, for my trousers would not survive that.
And like a bold of lightening the idea hit me, the solution. I decided to bunny hop up the steps, keeping my feet together. For no apparent regard for my self-esteem I proceeded to bunny hop up the steps to the sounds of laughter, confusion, and possibly fear, actually, definitely fear.
As I made my final bunny hop up the steps before me I could see ten teachers standing in a line, at the head of which was the principle, Sr. Mary. She summoned me over toward her, with a somewhat confused look on her face.
I awkwardly scurried across the floor toward the teachers and the disaster that was my trousers became apparent to them all, for their eyes were filled with an odd mixture of glee, amusement, horror and fascination.
Finally I arrived beside Sr. Mary, beside the microphone in front of 600 students. And then she uttered perhaps the strangest sentence of all.
"Peter Neill, I here by award you, Student of the Year 1997"
What!!!!!!!" The gym broke into applause and laughter. I did not know what to say, but in my shock I had lurched backwards, breaking a delicate part of the framework that was my trousers. Sorry, Leg coverers. I immediately grabbed by belt for dear life and kept my trousers from falling down around me. Sr. Mary now held out a plaque toward me, one that I could not take from her, as doing so would have released hell unseen since the opening of Pandora’s box upon 600 innocents. Thankfully she immediately understood and held onto it.
I tried at this point to leave the stage but was stopped by 600 people shouting "Speech, Speech!!!” I hobbled my way back to the microphone. My speech consisted of one highly thought through, carefully constructed sentence:

"Thanks, but does anybody have a spare pair of trousers?"

A Totally Bizarre Coincidence

It seems my blog has reached a new height, I got my first review and for the last few days I am getting about 250 visits a day, so why on earth does nobody ever leave a comment???

Anyway, a few days have passed and so its time to reveal my next installment to my tale of woe. This one is pretty short but the odds against it are huge, so it has to be posted.

I moved to Dublin from Kilkenny seven years ago. At this time the only person I knew in Dublin was my Comedian friend Reuben.
One evening we were driving into the city to go to the cinema or something. Along the way we pulled up at a set of traffic lights. This is where the trouble started. Sitting there waiting for the lights to go green I started to look at the cars on either side of us.
I looked to the right, nothing interesting of note, I then looked to my left and spotted the person in the next car. I immediately alerted reuben, "Hey reu, look at the blonde in the next car!".
I was puzzled by his reaction, he sat there silent, when I had been expecting him to agree instantly. What he said next shook me to the bone:

"Yep, Its my Sister"