Bebo

Lately, I’ve been swamped with emails that were written by fans of mine. So I decided that it was about high time I replied to a few.

Hi Wayne, why don’t you ever write about the things that you like? Instead of just bitching about everything?

Nancy
Tipperary.

Good question Nancy. Well, I have thought about this before. And the answer is pretty simple. The truth is; people probably aren’t interested in reading articles that are entirely about me. Hope that helped.

Give Madeline back.

Kate,
England.

We’ve been through this before Kate. Madeline is probably my best worker. She knits up to five sweaters an hour and can carry bags of coal like a mule. It would be irresponsible of me, considering the current economic climate, to let her go without first finding some sort of a replacement. I’m sorry, but my hands are tied. And so are hers.

Hi Wayne. Somebody told me that you have the cure for cancer in your back pocket. Could you lend it to me for a day or so?
Jade,
Essex.

Em, sorry Jade, but uh, I seem to have, em, forgotten where I put my trousers. Maybe I’ll give it to you on Monday, after the Mother’s Day weekend.

Hi. I recently bought a cellar from you and was just wondering if you had any ideas as to what I should actually do with it?

Josef,
Austria.

Hi Josef, I sent you a fax with diagrams. Have fun.

Me: Hi Ronan. Firstly I’d like to thank you for giving me the chance to interview you. I must say, it was pretty tedious trying to track you down.
Ronan: Eh, who are you? I didn’t agree to any interview? You just knocked on my door and told me that you were here to fix the refrigerator.
Me: Look Ronan, let’s not waste time arguing over specifics.
Ronan: Don't mind me asking, but, why are you holding that knife?
Me: As I said Ronan, let’s not waste any time arguing over specifics.
Ronan: Uh, ok then. Em, what question would you like to ask me?
Me: Questions, Ronan; questions.
Ronan: Ok. Eh, shoot. I guess.
Me: Does anyone, besides married mothers and coma patients, actually buy your music?
Ronan: Good question. Well, to be honest, I’m not really sure. I haven’t really looked into-
Me: Ronan! Be honest!
Ronan: I am. You see, we don’t actually know who’s buying-
Me: Ronan!
Ronan: Ok, no. Not that I’m aware of. Next question please.
Me: When you said that life was like a rollercoaster, were you talking about the kind of rollercoasters that are fun to ride or the one’s that stop mid-air, fall off the track and kill everyone on board?
Ronan: Em, the first one. I think.
Me: So, what you basically meant to say is that life is fun and full of laughter? That’s a little insensitive don’t you think? What about those starving children in Africa, Ronan? How do you think they’d feel about some denim-wearing cunt from Ireland who writes songs about how life is so effortlessly fucking great?
Ronan: No no no no, I think you’ve misunderstood the meaning of the song. I was basically trying to point out the fact that life is one big rollercoaster that is full of ups and downs. And that you just have to ride it.
Me: Kind of like your mother then eh Ronan?
Ronan: Did you seriously just insult my mother?
Me: No?
Ronan: You did. You just said “like your mother then eh Ronan?”.
Me: No I didn’t.
Ronan: Yes you did. I just even went back and read it again.
Me: Read what again?
Ronan: Never mind.
Me: Moving on. So, why the Denim, Ronan?
Ronan: Well, when Boyzone split up and we all went our separate ways, I felt as if I needed a new image that was kind of more grown up, if you know what I mean.
Me: So basically you felt as if wearing Denim could somehow give you an image that would mask the fact that you have the personality of a plank of wood?
Ronan: Yes.
Me: You and Enda Kenny should do a duet.
Ronan: Why?
Me: Well he doesn’t have a personality either. In fact, if you were to carry around a cardboard cut-off of him, people probably wouldn’t even notice the difference.
Ronan: Heh, that’s probably true.
Me: Ok, let’s not get sidetracked talking about Enda Kenny. This interview is about you and how shit you are.
Ronan: Ah cmon! That’s a little harsh now! I wouldn’t really say that I’m exactly shit. Maybe a little crappy, or even a little bit dirt, but shit, well that’s kind of pushing it.
Me: *sings* “LIFE IS JUST LIKE A ROLLERCOASTER, YOU JUST GOTTA RIDE IT.”
Ronan: Ok, you’ve proved your point.
Me: As always. On another note, what do you have to say about those rumours flying around that say you regularly beat your children?
Ronan: What the fuck?! I've never even heard such a rumour.
Me: So you're not denying it?
Ronan: Of course I am! I'd never beat my children!
Me: That's a pity.
Ronan: What?! Why!?
Me: I mean, they look like a shower of brats that could do with a few backhanders.
Ronan: That's a God damn terrible thing to say. I feel sorry for your children. If the state allowed you to have any.
Me: Don't question my parenting

This morning, I was busy looking in the mirror and congratulating myself for being the master of the universe, when I suddenly came up with a great idea that could help put an end to this economic crisis that we've been going through.

Here is my economic plan:

Anyone who even mentions the word recession will be gang raped.

Every women in Ireland will be forced to leave their job, pack their shit up and move to one big kitchen somewhere in the midlands to make sandwiches. This will not only free up jobs for the real workers among us, but it was also go a long way towards putting an end to world hunger.

Talk radio stations will be banned from polluting us with their constant bitching and moaning. Matt Cooper will be shot. His family deported.

RTE News will be forced to supply us with happy uplifting news about puppies being saved from house fires and children falling down wells.

Anyone who was on social welfare before the credit crisis arrived will have their weekly "earnings" cut in half. The money left over from this will be used to buy houses.

These state-owned houses will then be rented out to college students, who are stupid enough to pay ridiculous rates for shitty accommodations.

All leading bank figures will be rounded up and put into concentration camps, where they will knit jumpers. These jumpers will then be sold to dumbass Americans who think that having a Great Great Great Great Grandfather who went on holiday to Ireland once, renders them Irish.

We'll also start selling "Irish Soil" to homesick Irish people in Australia. This soil will be carefully mixed with anthrax so that we wont have to deal with a mass influx of prodigal Irish people looking for jobs once the credit crisis ends.

Children will be forced to take up smoking. I'm not sure how this might help the economy; but I'm pretty sure that it would be funny anyway.

Children will also be forced stay at home on their own. If Hollywood has thought us anything, which I think we can all agree it has, it's that leaving children unattended at home often leads to hilarious consequences and possibly the capturing of international criminal gangs (see Home Alone for instance).

All prisoners will be deported to some island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, where they can spend the rest of their days warding off lepers and avoiding cannibals. This will be made into a reality television show called "Help I'm a Convict and I'm about to be eaten by a cannibal with leprosy, get me out of here". It will then be shown to small children in order to make them think twice about becoming criminals.