Billy Keane: A nice Mills and Boon book is safer than those naked girlie chat room channels - unless you've to write it
I came across a romantic Mills and Boon-type novella the other day and it was written by a friend of mine, under a pen name, at a time when he was badly stuck for money.
The story was about a blind doctor who falls in love with the woman he loved before he went blind.
He doesn't know she's the same one he was in love with back in the day when he could see.
I'm ashamed to say I read the book from start to finish. It was Smoothie Lit - very nutritious and extremely wholesome.
I heard a story in the pub from The Holy Man about a man who was blinded while watching a TV station out in the far-off channels when the rest of the house was sound asleep in bed.
That's a good one by the TV providers. They put the naked girl chat rooms at 9pm on the remote and pretend it's the same as placing a girlie magazine up on the top shelf of the shop.
They are some chancers.
The Holy Man told me, for a fact, the television exploded and blinded the sinning man while he was watching gyrating naked girls who were dying to talk to him on the phone for only about a tenner a minute. The Holy Man could provide no proof. Google was empty. I called several journalists. Not one had heard of the story of the Wrath of God and the explosion of the dirty programme.
Personally, I think his cautionary tale is a modern-day variation on the old story preached by the cracked priests back when I was young.
The clerical ophthalmologists warned that if young lads engaged in furtive self-pleasuring under the sheets, they would eventually go blind.
We can only take The Holy Man at his word. Those who watch dirty programmes late at night should wear protective goggles, just to be on the safe side.
There's none of that oul carry-on allowed in the romantic novels.
The doctor was blinded by machine gun fire when he threw himself in front of sick children in a war zone hospital.
His lover, devious creature that she was, ran off with a handsome opera singer. He was Italian and he had a moustache. His eyes glimmered like coals in the dark.
The singer had her swooning all over the place and falling into his arms when he sang 'Nessun Dorma', which most of the Irish thought was a make of car when the romantic book was written about 30 years ago.
There was only kissing in the book. There was none of the filthy clatter you'd find in 'Fifty Shades of Grey'.
I was asked to write a type of review here one time about 'Fifty Shades of Grey'. I gave up reading after the first two lines. Couldn't take any more of it.
I never even got to the bits where your man Mr Grey answered the phone and said "Sorry, I can't talk to you right now, I'm tied up at the moment". I'm not sure if that was in the book but if the author is reading, please feel free to use my lines for the fourth part of the trilogy...
I'm not sure where the girl and the opera singer ran off to, but maybe it could have been Wexford, or somewhere operas are staged. They could have eloped to a caravan in Rosslare or Curracloe. I don't know because I skipped bits, such was my hurry to get to the end.
The novella implies opera singers are cads. Cad is Mills and Boon for low type.
I never met a male opera singer. There's this lad who comes in to the bar and he tries his best to sing the "I love you so" line from 'Danny Boy' in a high voice, like the Bee Gees.
The high singer even closes his eyes. He never ran off with anyone. And he never robbed another man's sweetheart with a song. So for the record, the book might be unfair to opera singers.
Your one and your man are in Milan. He's singing in the opera house when she meets a friend who tells her her ex was blinded. She drops the opera singer and heads back to care for her former lover. That's the doctor, and not the man who The Holy Man said got his dues when the TV exploded on him during 'Naked Threesomes Part 3'.
Anyway, your one happens to be a nurse and she plans to nurse the doctor back to health.
The nurse puts on a fake accent and the blind doctor hasn't a clue she's the same one who ran off with the Italian Opera singer. They fall in love all over again.
But then the opera singer finds her and he tells the doctor your one is the same your one as the your one who left him. Confused? That makes two of us.
The doctor says he forgives her and the tenor gets the road. But what if the opera singer sang there in the ward? Would the nurse have gone off with him?
Music can be a great turn-on. I was dancing with a girl many years ago in a place called The Country Club, which was in Cork city. The standard chat-up line was "What kind of music do you like?" She replies "I do melt when I do hear Larry Gogan on the radio."
Meanwhile back in the hospital, the nurse comes up with a great idea. The doctor is the only eye surgeon in the world who can fix what ails him.
The nurse says: "I will be your eyes, my darling."
Her name is Iris and he is a willing pupil. The love of the surgeon's life gently but firmly moves his healing hands through the eye of the storm.
The doctor/eye surgeon is cured. This is a much happier ending than the story of the man The Holy Man claims was blown up by the dirty channel.
But there was something bothering me about the operation.
I ask the secret writer how it was the doctor could perform an operation on himself while he was under the influence of a general anaesthetic?
"I was under an anaesthetic myself," explained the writer.
"I took to drinking gin when I was writing the damn thing."