An urgent appeal to abstinence education group "Pure In Heart" to visit Portlaoise Prison

To whom it concerns,

My name is Henry Proter. I'm an associate of Mr. Tom Colgan who works with the chaplain's service in Portlaoise. The staff here is committed to providing a comfortable, safe environment in which inmates can reflect on their crimes while learning new skills. It is hoped that these new skills will help the inmates to make a positive contribution to society upon their release. As in all walks of life there are a few bad apples who don't "get" it. A friend recommended your service. He said you specialized in teaching abstinence in schools so maybe ye've a few tricks up your sleeves to help myself and Tom out.

 

These "problem prisoners" (a.k.a. "The Bad Apple Gang", a.k.a. "The Fuck You Five" as they're known to the "screws" here) are all located in the maximum security hanger in the prisons basement known as "Alcatraz". Alcatraz consists of five glass boxes where prisoners with a history of anti-social behaviour are kept from the greater prison populace. They get exercise but they're in those glass boxes for upwards of 22 hours a day so they can get a bit cranky. The room itself is very impressive and whenever Governor Willie Connolly is giving a tour he traditionally ends it in Alcatraz. 

Usually when Governor Connolly pops down on his own the detainees of Alcatraz are are nice as pie. However in recent months, whenever Governor Connolly has brought down a guest, the Bad Apple Gang see this as a cue to start going "at themselves". What started out as a barely tolerated bit of fun has quickly escalated into an extremely distressing situation for the governor. His impromptu tours to special guests has always provided an important fundraising opportunity. It's doubtful that anyone would find the sight of five dangerous criminals in glass cubicles performing onerous activities in unison to be impressive enough to warrant a financial contribution, contributions which are urgently needed for both facilities AND amenities.  I know that your traditional remit may be schools but any assistance you could offer us would be enormously appreciated.


Many thanks,

yours etc.

Henry Porter.

The Shed Beat: Galway City

http://www.galwaybayfm.ie/component/k2/item/4223-mayor-describes-unused-city-shed-as-den-of-anti-social-behaviour

This story was brought to my attention by gentleman newshound Eoin Shaughnessy https://twitter.com/BobtheBollox  who had this to say about the original broadcast in an email:

Wish there was audio of this morning's news. He repeated the word 'shed' at least six times. "The shed is a matter of some concern." "This shed which used to a horse shed". "Yesterday evening when I went down to the shed..." etc.

Trying to imagine what he saw that so appalled him. A pantsless couple in one corner listlessly making the beast with two Abercrombied backs...a hunger-bloated urchin of indeterminate gender sipping from a bottle of turps and lying prone beside a pile of excrement at which a shivering old skeletal dog anxiously laps...all illuminated by a bare, flickering, moth-bedecked lightbulb to a soundtrack of Gimme Shelter.

I did some further digging online and found this article I made up:

"Drugged Up Sex Shed Must Shed Sex And Drugs Image If It's To Remain A Shed" Says Mayor Conneelly
Mayor Conneelly, who has been dubbed by locals as "Mayor Shed" or "The Shed Mayor", today issued an ultimatum to the controversial shed on Rahoon Road: rehabilitation or damnation. When asked for a statement the shed, which is comprised of 24 x 9 inch cavity blocks and around 15-20 x 4 inch solid blocks, made no comment.

A photograph taken by Gardai from inside the infamous shed.


When man fights shed nobody wins. Perhaps the council could employ some shed wardens to monitor these sheds and eject those who fail to adhere to proper shed etiquette. If the council can't shell out for shed wardens perhaps benevolent citizens could step in to fill the role. If seven people gave up just twenty-four hours of their week, once a week for every week, then we could all hang around in abandoned sheds in city centres in the middle of the afternoon unencumbered by judgement and unhindered by sexy drugs.

Early Happy Chinese New Year

Hey now. I wrote a story that appeared in a book for charity. That is to say that the proceeds of the book went to charity, and NOT that my being included was an act of charity. The charity in question is AWARE and they do great work for people with depression. 

http://www.aware.ie/
I've posted my tiny contribution below.


Santa’s Borrowed Suit
by Giles Brody

Santa came to our house on Christmas Eve looking for his suit. Daddy told me he had borrowed the suit for his work social. I was worried that Daddy would forget to return the suit and that Santa would be forced to go around the world delivering presents to the boys and girls with only his beard to keep him warm. This worried me.

On the days before Christmas Day I kept looking in Mammy and Daddy’s room and every day Santa’s suit would still be there hanging in a wrinkly heap in a bag on the back of the door. What was Daddy playing at? Did he want Santa to catch a cold? Did he care about all the boys and girls in the world getting their presents? Maybe he’s jealous because Santa doesn’t give him presents anymore.

I remember asking Daddy when Santa stopped coming to him. He said Santa stopped when he was twelve. I asked why? Daddy said it was something to do with letting the younger children enjoy Christmas but I think it’s because Daddy was bold and Santa put him on his naughty list. But then why would Santa loan him his suit for the work social?

That and a lot more questions were buzzing around my brain as I tried to go to sleep on Christmas Eve. Mummy and Daddy had gone to the pub to meet the neighbours. It was a tradition and it meant that none of the parents would disturb Santa while he was delivering presents. I didn’t want to disturb Santa either, but I did want to see him so I hid behind the sofa with a few stuffed bears for company and my blue rug in case it got cold. At midnight there was not no sound of hooves but there was a tap tap tap on the window followed a smashing sound. A minute later Santa had climbed in through our window and was standing in our living room.

I knew Daddy had his suit so I knew Santa wouldn’t look like he did in pictures. I didn’t expect him to be wearing a black tracksuit and a black wooly hat. He was fat but not Santa fat and his beard was black with flecks of white. Aha, I thought. Clearly snow from the North Pole.

Santa had a lamp on his head and was picking up our television when I walked into the living room.
“Santa, your suit isn’t under the telly silly. It’s in a bag in Mammy and Daddy’s room.”
Santa froze, hoping I didn’t see him. He looked pale and his lips were trembling. I’d realized then that I’d given him a big fright so I said sorry.
“I didn’t mean to scare you Santa.”
“Santa?” Santa said.
“You don’t look like Santa but that’s because Daddy has your suit in a bag. When you put it on you get fat and your beard will turn white”.

Santa shook his head slowly and smiled.

“I’ll go and get your costume from Mammy and Daddy’s room. While I’m gone you should eat some of the treats we left out to help fatten you up.”

Santa nodded. He wasn’t jolly like the Santa in the shopping center. He must have been tired from travelling all round the world. By the time I’d returned with his costume, Santa was trying to climb back out the window.

“Santa, don’t go!”

The sash on the window came down and bumped Santa on the head. I ran over to see if he was alright.
“Santa, there’s red coming from your head!”
Santa nodded and made a shhh gesture. He thought Mammy and Daddy were in the house and he mustn’t have wanted to disturb them. He really was the nicest man in the world!

Santa said he’d dress himself in his suit on so long as I stayed quiet. He wobbled about as he put it on over his black tracksuit. I asked him lots of questions about the North Pole. He said he’d answer them so long as I was quiet. Sometimes for fun I’d start off asking a question very quietly and then YELL AT THE END. It gave Santa such a fright.

A few minutes later, Mammy and Daddy returned from the pub. Daddy was so happy to see Santa that he gave him a big hug into the wall. Santa fell on the ground and must have hurt his head because the next thing I knew, Daddy was sitting on Santa’s head and calling for help on his phone. Daddy told Mammy to bring me to bed. “Goodnight Santa!” I said sleepily as Mammy picked me up and brought me upstairs. “I’m glad you got your suit back!”

Special thanks to the Liberties Press and Carol Tobin.

Lad Lane Live & How To Murder A Ghost

Hello friends,

Well it sure has been a swelterin' summer here on the ol' Brody ranch located several miles below Brody Headquarters. Louis Walsh bought my body swap comedy as Jedward's possible movie debut. I've just finished adapting Raging Bull into a panto for the lads to perform come Christmas time. It might be a bit early to call but I think our main theme, "Did You Fuck My Wife?", is destined to become a yuletide classic.

In other real world news I was shortlisted for Sky's The Big Pitch at this years Kilkenny Festival which was fun. Messers Sammon, Walsh and I got an honourable by Hat Trick for their Short and Furries competition for our sketch "Doctor Dolittle: The True Story".


My sitcom script "Talk Of The Town" was shortlisted by Sideline for their sitcom competition. Diarmuid O'Brien's satirical websitcom "Paddy Angryman", in which I appear alongside proper actors, will be gearing up for more episodes. Diarmuid's something of a workhorse and when he's not showrunning panel show pilots, he's standing up for the little guy/gal through the medium of 'the funny video' with his frequent collaborator Tara Flynn.  http://dangerfarm.ie/

Dublin's 10 Days In Dublin Festival kicks off again in July and Colin Chadwick and I delighted to be apart of not one, not three, but two shows. We'll be bringing our hour long sketch-funapalooza "Lad Lane" to Sweeney's on the 8th of July at 6:30.

http://entertainment.ticketsolve.com/shows/873496273/events

Colin and I are helping to write and produce a play called "How To Murder A Ghost". We're  collaborating with the Gaiety's lovely Teri Fitzgerald and the three of us have been having a grand old time planning the production and scaring the shit out of each other. It's a horror-comedy that's going to be staged in St. Patrick's Cathedral on the nights of the 12th and 13th of July.

http://www.10daysindublin.com/programme/how-to-murder-a-ghost-by-fitzchadbro-co/

We've got a great cast of up-and-coming Gaiety actors as well as some comedy folk. We'll release more details the sooner we get to the show but in the mean time here's a terrifying picture to keep you tantalised...

Colin Chadwick, 11th June 2013 in St. Patrick's Cathedral during a writing meeting for "How To Murder A Ghost"

UNTITLED POPE ACTION SPEC

Lad Lane

Hello you.

Hope you're well. One  of my New Years Resolutions is to learn the words to Auld Lang Syne and I'm already behind on that. My other resolutions are to eat more, exercise less and get really into word jumbles. I'm also going to update this blog a bit more with exciting* comedy news such as this:

 My friend Colin Chadwick and I have a podcast called "Lad Lane".

"Thank heck for that!" I hear you scream. "There's not enough podcasts featuring fellows in their 20's shouting over each other." Although I do love those sorts of podcasts, ours is somewhere between a soap and a sitcom (soap-com?) in the style of Scharpling & Wurster or Bob & Ray.

 The premise is this/thus. Colin lives in Lad Lane in Dublin and his encounters with his weirdo neighbours has prompted him to start recording all interactions. There's his landlady Noona, who is a cross between Mrs Doyle and Heath Ledger's Joker. Noona's husband Judas is a very low ranking Guard with a mop instead of a truncheon. The actor Pierce Brosnan lives on the lane, sharing a house with a dangerously manipulative heavy metal fan called Gary.

So far we've got eight episodes up with some select clips on Soundcloud. Next time you're taking yourself for a walk why not visit the Lane by downloading an episode.

I tunes link: https://itunes.apple.com/ie/podcast/lad-lane/id566761125

Soundcloud link:  https://soundcloud.com/lad-lane



* This is called an asterisk, its used in writing and printing as a reference mark or to indicate omission, doubt matter etc.

Sitcom Pilot

Hello there. "Student Teacher" got through to the finals of the RTE Storyland competition and finished in a very respectable second place. Congrats to the Begrudgers, Philip and crew on their success, and to all the other shows. Thank you to everyone who voted.

I've spent a lot of the summer writing sitcom pilots and specs for folks. I wrote my first sitcom pilot when I was seventeen. It was a comedy set in an Irish language summer camp. The next one was about detectives in a college. The one after that was about a lurker in a hospital. By the time I graduated from college I had written seventeen odd sitcom pilots, all seventeen uncommissionable. Even a commissioning editor somewhere hell bent on being fired would think, "No, that'd just be taking the piss." These were mostly first drafts because why mess with perfection.

I think about those scripts sometimes - badly formatted, characters names changing on a whim, the same five jokes in each one - and try to will myself to burst into flames out of shame. I gave these to PEOPLE to READ. People I knew and people I didn't. Luckily, I often didn't have the courage to submit these scripts and spared some poor reader somewhere the indignity of reading about the world through the perspective of some young lad with, being alive aside, next to no life experience. The simple act of writing some many pages of bad stuff is that it helps you get all the gunk out of your system.

Since then I've written a few scripts, hopefully with less gunk, some of which I'm very fond of but will more than likely never get made, the simple fact is that television takes an age to make and costs a lot of money. I thought it'd be fun to do it in the style of a radio play with performers reading the scripts accompanied by music and sound effects.

Rob Kearns, who runs 10 Days In Dublin and produces the monthly Death Of Comedy gave us the go ahead to stage a reading of "The Greatest Actor In The World". It's about a Daniel Day-Lewis type uber thespian called Daniel Clayton who, despite being enormously successful, has fallen on hard times financially. He mentors a doofus teen sensation Sparky in beginners thespaining and has a hate-hate relationship with the never seen Sean Penn. Unfortunately for me, (but good for everyone else because they're great) Arthur Mathews and Matt Berry also have a sitcom about a brash actor so TGAITW's prospects of getting made are currently estimated at minus zilch. Fortunately though we have a venue and a terrific cast led by the hilarious Shane Langhan (Diet of Worms) supported by the super funny Jim Elliot, Colin Chadwick and Petra Sheehan.

The plot revolves around trying to rescue a cat from a tree using only acting. Myself and the cast took the first draft and did a lot of gag adding (or "gagding") that improved things immeasurably. If you have a script that needs more jokes and you can convince hilarious people to help you make it better I can't recommend this way of working enough. It's (the show) is going to go down in The Workman's, Wellington Quay, Dublin on Tuesday the 4th of September, kicking off at 8PM. Funny people including MC Conor O'Toole, Tony Law and Tom Walsh will also be playing. It's going to be a lot of fun.