Sinead's today's Irish Independent piece - un-cut

When I mentioned 'de-trogging' last week in reference to my beauty preparations for appearing on the Late Late Show I was unfortunately remiss in that i did not explain what a 'Trog' actually is. A 'troglodyte' is a monstrous gorilla-like creature so large, hairy, foul smelling, puss covered and generally revolting that he or she would make the ugliest Yeti in history look like Angelina Jolie. I am a trog. That is how I recognise trogs when I see them.

I am now sitting in my hotel room in Lisdoonvarna. Arrived here yesterday around 4. On the way I thought I better buy condoms for my two male nannies ( it's the mother in me) and myself (in the extremely unlikely event) so I ran into a services somewhere near Clare. Had quite the lengthy discussion with the young lady behind the counter as to which to which were best to go for. I could sense those in the que behind me were feeling a tad shocked as the conversation between myself and the young lady was quite loud cuz she was easily seven feet away from me. And neither she nor I were embarrassed.

There was the usual half foot long line of options ranging from 'this won't work at all' to 'u may as well be locked in Ghadaffi' deepest bunker and yer lover passed on to heaven thirty years ago for all you'll feel. I haven't used condoms for years so I asked the girl which she thought best. "well they're no good at all if you want to feel alive" said she regarding the 'extra safe'. "Take these" the Durex Pleasure max. Ribbed AND dotted! "To stimulate u both". How could I refuse? For it would mean I wouldn't really have to make much effort myself in the stimulation department. It being the case that if I had any chance of 'pulling' it would be at 5 in the morning most likely and I'd be too tired to bother moving around much.

There was a story in papers on Thursday which is unprintable in this paper. This story is regarding what was referred to as a "popular fruit". And linked me romantically with same. These accusations are of course absolutely scurrilous. Funny. But absolutely not true at all. Honest. Myself and my nannies read it on the way here and oh how we laughed at what is definitely (but consequently un-printable in this family paper) THE best 'Sinead O'Connor' headline ever. Ossie Osbourne and Alice Cooper can move on over out 'the way. This little Irish fecker has stolen your crowns.

So we get to our (really lovely) hotel. We enter our rooms. Luke, Jamie, my friend Anthony and myself. There are fruit bowls in each of our rooms. Mine had straw-berries, apples and grapes. Later I wondered for a laugh, did the guys get the 'popular fruit' and I didn't. Guess what? That's exactly what happened! My basket just quietly displayed not that scandalous item. Theirs did.

Which is kind of the symbol of how we're getting on down here. My friend Anthony is married. But Jamie and Luke of course are single, and desperate to meet gorgeous young Irish ladies. By nine last night they had been dancing for hours with old ladies. And really loving it. But they aren't 'here for the beer'. So we went to see the match-maker Willie Daley.

We enter a cove in a hotel bar. The Walls are warm cream (ooops! Didn't mean that) and believe it or not, strewn with images of bollock naked ladies. Not as old-fashioned as I'd imagined. Sadly no pictures of naked men.

They take instant polaroids of the 3 of us. We are given forms to fill out. Name. Address. Occupation. For that I put Goddess. And the end of the form were four lines where we were asked to describe what we were looking for in a prospective match. I thought four lines two inches long each was very challenging. But I suppose at this stage two inches is all I can hope for.

When we discussed later what each of us had put I again experienced the difference between what way men and women view 'romance'. I saw a tee shirt in New York years ago. It said "Making love, what my girlfriend does when I'm fucking her." (liam if u cant use the word 'fucking' will u substitue something that makes it obvious thats the word? Otherwise point of the joke is lost) That is so how it is. So on my four lines of describing the kind of boyfriend I would like I put he has to. Be funny. Be snuggly. Be eccentric and have stubble. Jamie put big boobs, nice arse, and intelligent.

The polaroids are attached to the forms and I'm pleased to report I didn't look like a total pig. Well, I looked like a pretty enough pig as I had lip-stick and mascara on. All the while there had been a man lurking in the corner. Willie Daley says to me "this is the man I think you'd like".
Oh God. No. I mean a sweet man but oh my God. No. Problem? Too normal. I nearly dropped dead on the spot so I did.

I'm frightened of 'normals'. I will often write about it. It is an obsession with me for you see ' normal' is a very contagious disease. He was wearing a grey suit and the nearer the came toward me the more 'normal' I began to feel. I said I was going for a fag with me mates and ran as fast as my legs could carry me back to my hotel.

In the bar Jamie and Anthony and Luke and myself met up again. Some pretty young ladies Jamie and Luke met earlier Turned up and despite there being boyfriends Jamie swore to us that this one lovely lady was his. I have yet to find out if the prophesy came true. Horribly then, a long line of really trog-like old men looking like they were nine years pregnant began to form behind Anthony. I was facing them so Anthony couldn't see them . They were winking and grinning at each other and hitching up their trousers as if to say " we're in here lads'. Oh My God.

Recently because I am a genius I realised if I pretend I am on the phone I can get out of 'Sinead o connor' situations I'm uncomfortable with so I employed that tactic and wandered out of the bar talking to my phone saying " I'm not really talking to you I'm pretending to talk to you because the cast of deliverance is in the bar licking their lips at me and I want my mummy." Anyone's mummy.

So. What do I do? There can't be only trogs here. They're all really old. I didn't see one man near my age that looked pork-able. Am beginning to feel I should abandon search altogether and try couple's counselling with my vibrator. You see I got bored with it. I've lost the one I really like somewhere in the house. Am terrified the dogs are gonna find it before I do.

I think I will call off the man- hunt and instead update my vibrator collection. And perhaps investigate other sex toys. Its very tricky when you're famous you know, to just walk into Miss Fantasia and buy yourself a load of buzzers. So I'm behind the times. I need guidance officer, as to where and how I can attain these precious items without it being in the Sun.. " Sinead buys 9 foot drill-do?

Anyone who can supply me either with actual vibrators and/or toys or with the knowledge of how to attain same please e mail me. I am hoping now that I could attain many of such items and review them by blog.