Author Archives: Frilly Keane

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The Ireland women’s Rugby squad 2017

Frilly Keane is back!

Mind your balls.

Frilly Keane writes:

This place has gone all snowflakie in the Trumpanzie era. Have ye noticed a’tall? Or maybe tis the Telly Show getting ye all mannerly and presentable. But you can’t open your trap without some cribbin’ or PG moderating.

A while back when I referred to my tits in a post, it got covered up under “Jumper Puppies” and unusually for me, I took issue with it and kicked back.

Not that I’m anyway precious about what I post on Broadsheet, or how it gets treated, but it was my own set of tits I was referring to, so wtf like. They’re mine, and I can call them what I like.
You don’t see the lads getting their “cockfest” painted over or their “bollix” pruned. Do ya? Your Dah you do.

Sum’ting else you don’t see very clearly; that inherent blind spot Men all have when it comes to how Women are treated in the everyday when under the same circumstances.

I’ve used this one before as an example of what has become commonplace oversight and indifference: If a Woman Candidate for Election – any election any jurisdiction, accepted a Party nomination with 5 children from 3 different fellas, the commentary and direction of the campaign coverage would be very different to yer Man.

And ye know it.

I’ve said this here before too, when it came to her professions, career and livelihood, Hillary Clinton used the very same rule books as many of the lads before her did, and many after her will, and she took a hiding for it. And some of ye are still sniggering about it.

So why can’t I, her, or she use the same rule books as him? Who da’fcuk do ye all think ye are? I go into the same exam hall and face the same exam paper as any lad, I’m assessed for taxes by the criteria as any lad, I can be summoned before a Court Official under the same conditions as any lad,

I pay the same price for diesel as the lad at the other pump, I’m charged the same unit rate for the electricity I consume, yet, when it comes to making a few bob I’m criticised and mocked for being  money grabbing, outspoken and ambitious.

This is not a pitch for Gender Quotas, which I firmly disagree with. I believe in walking the talk, and if I’m not good enough, then I just have to improve my game, or accept the runners up medal.

If I put a new car under my hole its assumed I got a dig out with it, got finance for it and the tis grand for some is its greeting. Whereas the lad will get a how does she drive, what’s her mileage like.

And ye all know it.

In 2008 feedback from a very senior Health Care Exec (now comfortably pensioned) to me in a failed final interview was “The Board was split 50:50 so they went with the man.

Now, I left it go, because I’m not litigious, but mainly because it was easier not to bother me arse drawing the fight on meself – I’d better things t’be getting on with kinda thing. But here’s why I’m bringing it up here, what if the answer was ‘The Board was split 50:50 so they went with the woman.”

I’ll leave that with ye….

Now, here I am, (while still pissed off about my Christmas message not getting aired because, IN MY OPINION, it would have imposed on one of yere lovies), deliberately putting the boot inta the collective misogyny that has become so common place, nobody notices it anymore.

Recently a post appeared from the Ladies Rugby Supporters Group; and to say I was disappointed at the scanty response – is me being nice.

I’m not going to defend the Women’s Game. Of any code.

Nor am I going to deny that I’m more likely to be seen at a Senior Mens game than the Ladies. The Girls, past and present in the Hurling & Football fields throughout the Country have accepted that from the likes of me on the ditch.

But when their County Boards attempted to try it on by limiting their Ladies sides’ resources and opportunity and potential, I’m not behind the door with the ‘hang on there now lads’ and I was never the last in with the cheque for the holiday fund. Even for the Tipp crowd.

And I’m not going to take the soup either, so yere not going to see me hould back with the Rugby crowd or change me tune.

But when they’re our own, no matter what the code or gender, we are all on the one road.

So why isn’t there pull-out Women’s World Cup shyte n’ Player profiles stuffing the weekend papers and spilling off RTE Radio roundabouts?

FFS; There’s more talk about the Ireland Lads girlfriends/wives/ kids than the Ireland Women’s XV. Even more FFSs… an ex-player and his missus would be given more times on the Montrose Couches before the Ireland Ladies, and that’s even if they do bring home the Grand Slam.

I’d love it if the Irish Open was as dissed and ignored as the Women’s World Cup and the Ireland Team Set up, because then the Indo would be appointing a Receiver.

Given what they’ve had to put up with, this Panel of International Players should be the Paddy’s Day Grand Marshals, and if there’s any depth to Mrs Brown’s premise, they should be on her set getting togged out and fed tay.

Mrs Brown, not that I think your brilliantness is anywhere near this gaff, but Ailish, Ailsa, Aine, Alison, Anna, Ciara, Ciara eile, Claire, Claire eile, Cliodhna, Eimear, Elaine, Heather, Ilse, Jemma, Jenny, Katie, Leah, Lindsey, Mairead, Marie- Lou, Mary, Niamh, Niamh eile, Nicola, Nora, Orla, Paula, Ruth, Sene, Sophie … hope I got it right; ARE YOUR BOYS.

As for the IRFU … it really is a big wanky FU. I would love to see a comparison of the money they provided to a former Argentinian International to get a RCSI education and what was stumped up for the current Ladies Training & Prep camps.

In the words of a former Great Irish International, and one of yere very own:

Where’s yere fucking Pride.”

Girls, ye’ll see me at every home game from now on …. not sure about the Shoulder t’ Shoulder carry on but;

Tiocfidh

Frilly keane’s column usually appears here on the first Friday of every month. Follow Frilly on Twitter: @frillykeane

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Gay Byrne presenting the Late Late Toy Show

back in the day when we gathered to watch the Toy Show we understood that it was about stuff that American kids got. .

Frilly Keane writes:

I have never praised TV3. Or even found anything on it worth bringing to anyone’s attention unless it was mean. But it must be said; I love the Irish GoggleBox.

Admittedly I hate it when a format from over there is localised and saved-as with Ireland after it. Come Dine With Me …. First Dates …. The Voice…. UTV. Besides, ‘the box’ instead of telly is a very English thing, so for the rest of this week’s Frill-Bit, Selfie-Telly-dot-ie is what it is.

I love it, I love them all, well, maybe when the two pets in Portobello with their blankies and blingy crystal for the Chardonnay cuts in, it’s time for me to run upstairs or let the dog out. But really I love them all, and funnily feel if Anita or one of the Twins or any one ov’em to be fair, got hurt I’d feel their anguish, like sympathy pains.

What an absolute gentleman Mr Adenuga is and what about the “you’re very jaysus bold” puss cat in Dolphins Barn?

Don’t I always say there is no such thing as an ordinary Paddy? Proof there now lads, and on your own telly too. So, fair play to TV3, the casting and cutting is top notch, you are frilly forgiven from all your Xposé sins.

I’m bringing this up now because tonight we are all on that same couch watching the same telly. Tonight Selfie-Telly-dot-ie has its annual congress.

The Toy Show.

A few years ago, John Blake Creedon recalled for sum’ting that back in day when we gathered to watch the Toy Show we already understood that it was about stuff that American kids got; in a way he’s not wrong, we absolutely understood that nothing daycent on that Toy Show was going to be at the end of the bed Christmas morning; we’d get the annuals. Big ticket stuff like Simon Says and Atari came our way about 3 years after Gay did his ‘merciful’hour moment.

In Cork, some of us had  an advantage ‘cause there was the potential for someone coming home from England to bring one over for us the following summer. That’s how I got my Sony Walkman, and my digital watch.

By doing a Reeling in the Years look back now, there is always a laugh to be had at the lad in his Christmas clothes and his showband hair-do playing showband keyboards. But to all of us, that lad in the massive velvet dickie bow and the Billy Barry kids were superstars. The teen idols of their day. I bet ya they were famous for years.

I don’t know exactly when the Toy Show changed from a looking glass into everything we weren’t good enough for to a real preview of if you want it you could have it. I suspect it was a combination of two things; Internet and Money slash Credit, so I’m going t’say late 90s; and followed by the Christmas Jumper which was definitely 03 04’ish and we bringing them back from New York.

There is no denying that the Late Late show couch has gone from bland to shit, and it started on Kenny’s shift. Gay got Mother Teresa, Ali, Billy Connolly, that Pee Flynn one, Annie Murphy and Peter Ustinov and whatever yere having yourselves; on the other hand, Tubs gets too much money but has the chore of trying to make the likes of Daithi O’Se and Nick Munier appear like global jet packers sweating to try and squeeze in the Late Late and do a favour for their old friend.

Also, Tubs is much better engaging with kids, his spoofing and messing with them have make it a much more engaging and unique show, for me anyway.

Incidentally the best segments in this current genre, for me anyway, is the one when Ted Sheeran arrived in, and that wee ninja killer ‘waun thur’ with the wee accent.

And it’s not just Tubs, the Toy Show production quality has improved, that could be tech too, but the numbers are bigger, brasher, better costumes, and they’ll have accents arriving in from all over Ireland tonight.

There is even a guarantee there’ll be a lad on a tractor; and all feeling completely at home. Gay and Kenny never managed that.

One thing that has never changed in the 40 odd’ish years is its place in the season, in our houses, in our working week and in our weekend planning.It’s an institution; like the All Ireland final. Like red sauce on chips. Like the Family Circle tin.

Tonight, is the Toy Show. Tonight, we are all cast members of Selfie-Telly, like the Pauls in Youghal, Dessie and the girls, the Adenugas in Navan, the Liberty girls and the Cabra girls, and fuck’it everyone else. It doesn’t matter what your front room is like, what age you are, what you sound like. Only that you’re in for the Toy Show.

Don’t forget jumpers and hats @frillykeane. Mine’s still the best tho’

There’ll be an Urbi et Orbi for ye; if yere wondering like.

In the meantime

Let is snow let it snow let it snow

Frilly keane’s column usually appears here on the first Friday of every month. Follow Frilly on Twitter: @frillykeane

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Hillary Clinton makes her concession speech at the New Yorker Hotel watched by daughter Chelsea and husband Bill Clinton

After a short absence Frilly returns with a song for Hillary and bum note for Irish rugby.

Frilly Keane fumes:

I’m going to start with Rugbee crowd bating the All Blacks, well done. I don’t exactly know when the cribbing over Montrose not showing it started or when the deserved whinging over Irelands Ball Shoulder to Folder triggered, but either way, I’m digging them up again.

First, Rugby is not the National Game and it is not a Gaelic Game. So FRO. Go foreign to watch it. (see what I did there)

They’re dead right about Irelands Crawl Drawl Fall Hall Maul Gaul Shawl …see that … no amount of fecking around with it makes it even half arsed. It’s not an anthem. That’s its problem. It’s not even a daycent twist in a sing song, which doesn’t help it either, therefore no one likes it, and it’s just plain AWFUL.

Dustin’s Euro Turkey is a better rabble rouser. An Anthem is a call to arms. An Anthem is a Hymn in a local dialect that is belted out by many and yet all-for-one. It doesn’t have to be classical historic or even a masterpiece.

We are the Champions is none of those. De Banks is a diddly diddle oul’ meandering ballad, but it’s ours, no one else gets to own it only me and mine, and when its belted out by the many to prime the all-for-one, you could chew on the charge it generates.

Clearly Amhrán na bhFiann isn’t grand enough or Windsor enough for the Goys, so go get sum’ting else would ye. Try Joe’s Make me an Island

And now t’ Trump. At least there’ll be fodder and material sustainable enough for Broadsheet for annuder few years. I won’t fight it, I’ll join up most likely, and egg it on even more likely.

It was clear to me since mid-September that Hillary Clinton hadn’t an iota of interest in Broadsheet HQ. The extent to which they would go to undermine the Democratic Candidate’s Presidential Campaign I could never have imagined, and I have a fairly rampant imagination.

But then as I’ve said before; their gaff their rules. I would like to think they will regret the direction they allowed the forum descend into in the last 20 Days. But one only has to see the wall of authors to note the preference they favour.

I’m disgusted with the result meself. But I have a bias for the Clintons. I actually wrote to Bill when he was Governor of Arkansas, and I have a Clinton Beanie Baby, and cups from the Clinton Library.

But that never influenced any illusion I might have allowed myself that America also liked Her.

The Voter hates Her because she is white, smart, liberal, self-made, and more than just a former First Lady. Everyone else that doesn’t like her, and there are plenty amongt us here, don’t like her because she plays like a man.

Yet that’s what I admire about Hillary Clinton the most.

She plays with the same rules as the lads. She exploits the same opportunities as the lads. She gets dirty the same way the lads do. And she talks and walks the same games as the lads. Is Hillary Clinton the first Secretary of State to ask if a threat could be taken out / droned? Was she fuck. And ye all know it.

Hillary Clinton’s biggest failure was waiting in line behind two different men, Bill and Barack. Her day is done. Yet still fair dues to her, she’s put together a handsome pension for herself, despite the fact the American Taxpayer will not be burdened with the weight of an Irish Mary type Pension, they’ll be a lot worse off without her.

Trump voters and cheerleaders have elected a narcissist who has NEVER served a minute of public service, or done a charitable deed that was without benefits, you and they will regret this decision, of that I have no doubt.

Trump, if he is not assassinated, will leave the White House an even wealthier man; and I’ll look forward to all this supporters pointing that out when the time comes.

Frilly keane’s column usually appears here on the first Friday of every month. Follow Frilly on Twitter: @frillykeane