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The secret life of Daithi O Se


NO TWO days are the same for Ireland’s Sexiest Man. Whether I’m presenting the weather, jumping in and out of Galway Bay or daringly leaving the house without my brolly, I live life to the max.


I’ve been doing lots of interviews in the lead up to The Rose of Tralee. Today I say that I’ve long been an admirer of the contest and my main job really is to reassure the girls that they all have lovely bottoms.


Radio interview early enough. I say that presenting The Rose of Tralee in my home county is a high honour. Everything that the contest represents is very dear to me: judging lovely girls solely on their loveliness, having the craic and a bit of a song and a dance.


Anyone who says that The Rose of Tralee is outdated or sexist should really tune in to watch me drag it kicking and screaming into the 21st century. Think Russell Brand at the MTV Awards, think high-octane performances from lovely girl after lovely girl.


Another interview: the accolade of ‘Ireland’s Sexiest Man’ is sexist in itself, if you think hard about it. So I don’t.


As I’ve said, no two days are alike for someone like me. And anything could happen on a Friday.


The forecast for today, ladies, is a scorcher, much like my good self. When a warm front meets a . . . ah, feck that, let’s just say that I’m hot stuff.

Or this is how it would be if we were Daithi O Se