When dry-witted Irish sage, acquired taste underachieving amateur humourist, socially awkward practically unheard-of legally blind cat obsessive and husband Neal O'Carroll ingests a litre of generic energy drinks, a transformation occurs. There emerges a taurine-tongued purveyor of madcap monologues, fantastical tales, comical tirades, nonsensical yet impressively argued opinions, ludicrious lectures, copious Two Cats walk into a Bar stories and lately, an enthusiastic cheerleader for a bespoke new pronunciation of the word dog. Every segment is begun with no idea how the first sentence...