Terence Brady - Playwright, novelist, actor and painter.
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THE DOG'S WHATEVERS
Loud Mouths and Not very Ragged Trousers
A size three hat
OF TWO CLOWNS
ADVICE TO THE LOVELORN

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Brendan Behan
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THE DOG'S WHATEVERS



THE DOG’S WHATEVERS 


It was the moment every dog owner dreads – no, I have to refine that. It was the moment every male dog owner dreads – the time when you are told by your vet They have to come Off. The reason They had to come Off apparently was because all that testosterone was making the boyo a little aggressive. But then not really.  The vet might have found him a little aggressive because he sunk his canines into the vet’s derriere when the vet shoved a thermometer up the boyo’s derriere and I must say I can’t blame the boyo for that, having recently had one of those male moments myself with a doctor - however.

Loud Mouths and Not very Ragged Trousers






The 2nd Viscount Stansgate was alas a political hyperbole. More famous for his insistence on being called Tony than for any worthwhile political notions, how he has handed in his dinner plate he is being lionised for his pantomime ambition to turn Labour into some sort of Eastern European socialist party. in fact possibly his greatest ambition would have been to see Britain turned into a satellite of the USSR. He was a deluded Leninist who seemed from his rhetoric to have been more consumed by hatred than by compassion, (he 'loathed' the EEU - his words - and had little time for Germany either) which is hardly a good base for true socialism, two of his earliest and most burning ambitions being to remove the Sovereign's head from postage stamps and to ban off shore radio stations.

A size three hat








This is a difficult one for me, as someone who has owned National Hunt horses and trained some as an amateur. But. (a) What Ruby Walsh said - if this is what indeed he said - it is not just way out of line it is utterly and entirely disgraceful and reflects ill on a man who is one of the most talented and bravest of jockeys.

OF TWO CLOWNS




                                                           OF TWO CLOWNS 

I write of two clowns. One is called Paterson, the other is called Kaye. Of these two comics, one has already earned immortality through his work while because of his foolish recklessness the other is fast gaining notoriety and with a bit of luck will soon hopefully be gone and long forgotten.

ADVICE TO THE LOVELORN

                                              ADVICE TO THE LOVELORN



       The essence of happiness is that it is not visible. It is not a material thing. It is an intrinsic thing, an abstract, and as soon as people try to analyse it, it becomes even more invisible.

GRASS REPUBLISHED!





CORONET AMONG THE GRASS
REPUBLISHED


           I remember so very well when this delightfully funny book was written. Being Clever Drawers, I should do, but I’ll resist making any Clever-Drawer-ish sort of remarks here. All I will say that having just finished preparing this second volume of my beloved wife and partner’s youthful autobiography to me it is still as fresh and totally original as the day it was written. The one thing it is not is one however, is one of the things it was claimed to be when it was first published, that is brilliant.

SMALL EARTHQUAKE NO ONE HURT


A SMALL EARTHQUAKE NO ONE HURT 

On the crime scale of one to ten this barely even rated. Someone broke into a cottage on the estate and did a bit of rifling. I noticed it when I walked by because the mattress was sticking out of the window and a light was shining from the fridge. A closer look showed a side window (double glazed too) smashed and forced and noting a bit more of a mess than usual within I called the fuzz. Three days later a very small policeman wearing a very small car called.

GREAT BLOTS


It sits above us like an incandescent orange box, situated high on a promontory in order to optimize the view and so spoiling the same for everyone else. It is meant to be a house but what it totally resembles is an orange railway carriage, one parked carelessly without a thought for the consequence and unless the ground opens up beneath it (if only) or Armageddon arrives sooner than scheduled it is there for evermore. You can’t ignore it. It forever catches the eye and when it does the eye becomes very sore.

THE EXPERT


THE EXPERT  

So there I was sat or as I once used to be seated or even sitting watching the tube that used to be the box that once was the animated fish tank when this guy what used to be a man or maybe even once a bloke comes on and starts to blague that once was sound off or long ago to give out. To tell the truth he didn’t come on which also means something quite different now, what I mean is they cut to him on this programme and there he was sitting all perfectly arranged at this impeccable little café table all faultlessly arranged him included, so neat and just so, nicely at an angle to show a bit of profile and trendy stubble, with a little clear glass tea pot in front of him

RADIO TWEE


RADIO TWEE  

Once upon a fine and a rare old time there was a most excellent, highly intelligent and exceedingly accessible broadcasting channel called Radio Three. On it listeners could encounter presenters who knew and loved music and who in the main were able to convey their delight to those who had tuned in to listen without haughtiness, condescension or disdain, three fellows too often to be found sharing the same bed when so called classical music is aired. In those halcyon days listeners could turn their radios on early in the morning and hear nothing but fine music, uninterrupted by constant inanities, opinions, weather forecasts, hit parades and the sound of massive ego trips.
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