It's our yearly ritual...sit back, relax and rip the Late Late Show to shreds
IT's many people's favourite Autumn pastime. The evenings are beginning to get a darker and so people know it's time.
Time to draw the curtains, pour a cup of tea (or a cheeky glass of vino), sit back and rip the Late Late show to shreds.
We have been doing this for decades now. I learned to relish it as a child when my father would announce that Gay Byrne was the most condescending man on TV.
"And he never admits he's from Rialto," he would announce to the family.
This pastime involves a lot of hmmphing and tutting. The Late Late Show viewer 'sigh' is unique. It's long, heavy and ends up with you taking a huge gulp of whatever liquid is in your hands.
It's also accompanied with the shout: "Shut up and let the person answer!"
After a bajillion hours of watching, the viewer then ends by saying "never again".
He or she then waits seven days before the excitement builds up to start their "Berate the Late Late" session again.
And so I sat with my glass of red last Friday night, ready to huff, puff and sigh.
The opening music began, and there was a little glitch as the pre-recorded music turned into the live music in the studio. It was the tiniest glitch that only a seasoned bah humbug-type would notice.
"YA SEEEE!" I screamed to no-one. "I KNEW IT WOULD BE S****". Fifteen seconds in and I'd written off the new season.
I watched on. The interviews were fine. There was nothing new about this 187 bajillion year old show but Ryan's suit was lovely and the audience won a prize.
I wasn't livid about anything but I still shouted the odd "rubbish" at the screen.
Beraters will be beraters you see. There's nothing anyone can do about it.
And so I await next week's offering, where I will join the thousands of other viewers who tune in religiously to take down this institution. Amen.