I’ve been deluding myself for the past three weeks, thinking that I hated the run up to Christmas because of all the mayhem in town trying to do some shopping. I was wrong, I was very wrong.
The reason I hate Christmas is because of this wanker!
Every friggin hour or so on UTV, we get adverts to buy this ponces DVD’s and CD’s. I wanna slit my wrists, really I do. I don’t know what ventriloquist is responsible for controlling this tosser but he needs to get his fist the hell out of his arsehole and learn to do it properly. I don’t care how many millions of records this gimp has sold or how many wee cups of tea he gives to the hoards of grandmothers who invade his hotel in Co Donegal every year. He does my fucking head in. And he has about as much rhythm as a three legged dog tap dancing down the stairs. He always finishes a beat too late.
He tries to tell us that he’s not gay and even married his manager to prove a fact. Three words Danny boy. “Marriage of convenience” And he still keeps up the pretence that the “sister” he started out his singing career with. ie Margo, isn’t really his mother. All of Ireland knows yer lying.
Daniel, you are Irelands version of Cliff Richard.. Why don’t you both just fek off and die.
