I'm not usually into glasses on birds . . . me and the goys usually throw those Fionn's way . . . but Ms Keppel . . . Catherine, to the stud muffin here . . . is one of those birds who you know is a cracker behind the windows, like the secretary in all those dick-flicks who whips off the specs, shakes the hair loose and does the bould thing with the boss while checking the toner on the photocopier. In other words, she's hot.

So Thursday night, she's, like, going around the class, asking each of us in turn to say basically a little bit about ourselves, and discuss the ways we think our lack of confidence is basically holding us back.

And seeing as how nobody else was volunteering, I offered to, like, go first.

I was like, "For those of you who don't know who I am . . . I don't know, maybe you've been in, like, a witness protection programme for the last 10 years . . . the name is Ross O'Carroll-Kelly. I suppose if I had to describe myself, I'd tell you to imagine Brian O'Driscoll, Gavin Henson and Jonny Wilkinson, all wrapped up in a body that can benchpress 80 kilos . . . we're talking six to eight reps . . . and you're in the roysh ballpork."

I'm going, "In 1999 I captained Castlerock College to victory in the Leinster Schools Senior Cup, a performance described as peerless by no less than Tony Ward. . ." and all of a sudden, roysh, Catherine's there, "Could you keep it brief please, Ross. I'd like to hear from other members of the class tonight. And could you please take your feet off the desk, " which I do, roysh, because I'm out to impress this bird and she's obviously not one of your get-in-guther-and-get-out merchants.

I go, "Well, one of the things that inspired me to come here was seeing Ireland win at Twickenham.

I'm a better rugby players than most of those goys and with a bit more self-belief there's no reason why I shouldn't edge Rog out of the team for the autumn internationals."

She goes, "Thank you, Ross, " still looking at me a bit Scooby Dubious.

Next up is some bird called Sara, not bad looking actually, a bit like Anna Friel but with bigger Walters.

She's like, "I went out with a goy for three years and he made me feel like . . .

oh my God . . . total shit. Then he ended up being with, like, two of my best friends, " and I'm thinking, hello, sounds like there's a pretender to the Rossmeister's throne out there.

I go, "Can I just, like, interrupt you for a second?"

and suddenly every head in the room turns around to me. I'm like, " You said he made you feel like total shit.

No one makes any of us feel anything. You either feel it or you don't. And what do you care what any man thinks? You're a total cracker, " and she turns around and looks at me and goes, "Really? Do you think so?' and I'm like, "Are you kidding? You look like Anna Friel but with. . . extras as standard, " and all of a sudden, roysh, she sort of, like, brightens up and I give Catherine a wink as if to say, that's one sorted out for you anyway."

So then, Ollie, roysh, who was in Castlerock with me, pipes up and he's like, "Well, I have no confidence and I suppose it goes back to rugby as well. You see, I had pretty bad skin, " and I decide I am SO not listening to that rubbish.

I'm there, "Sorry, Oily, I mean, Ollie. The only reason you didn't make it onto the S was because you couldn't pass off your left hand. You would have been able to had we had a better junior cup coach than McGahy. You had everything else, Dude. . .

strength, guts, pace to burn. . ."

And suddenly, roysh, Ollie's staring off into space, obviously thinking, this goy's a legend, no wonder he was made captain. I go, "I'll meet you at the weekend if you like. Help you iron out any little kinks in your game."

Catherine does not look a happy camper, it has to be said.

A bird two desks in front of me stands up and before she says anything I go, "Don't tell me you've got confidence problems . . . not with an orse like that, " which is when Catherine all of a sudden flips the lid with me, going, "Get out! Get out!

Who told you you needed to come to assertiveness classes? You don't have confidence deficit. You have a confidence surplus. You need humility classes!"

I'm there, "Hey, all this aggravation ain't satisfying me. I'm just making the point, I don't think anyone here really needs to be here.

They just need to focus more on their good points and less on their bad."

That's when Anna Friel goes, "I don't think I need an assertiveness class either, " and Ollie's like, "Neither do I if Ross shows me where I'm going wrong with my passing."

Then this other goy . . . one of those weird-looking Forbidden Planet hangouts . . . he turns around to me and goes, "Where can someone like me meet a girl in this city?" and of course I'm like, "Copper's. Even a geek like you would be beating them off with a cattle prod in there."

Catherine's like, "That's it . . . out! All of you . . . out!" and she focks us all out into the corridor, saying she never wants to see any of us again, although I suspect she doesn't mean that in my case.

Sara goes, "I'm going to see if it's too late to put my name down for Tango classes, " and I hang back, roysh, while the others drift away, then I knock on the door and go back in.

She's sitting at her desk with, like, her head in her hands. I go, "Come on . . . I'm going to take you for a drink."

And guess what . . . she said yes. Well, I was confident she would.

ROSS'S GUIDE TO LIFE NO 57 . . . UNA POWERS

People often ask me where they can observe skobies in their natural environment . . .

but obviously from a safe distance. I tend to direct them towards shows like the Adrian Kennedy Phone Show, which must be the only radio show in the world where you can arrange to "ght a man called Decker or Buddener over the airwaves.

But another show has come to my attention . . . and surely it's only skobies who could fall for it. Una Powers is 98fm's resident tarot cord reader. But get this . . . she does it over the phone for her predominantly WC audience.

So a typical exchange is like:

Una, can you help me, I'm after losin me bleedin passport and I'm apposed to be going to Ibiza wit me fella in de mornin.

That's no problem. I'm getting a strong signal here.

The spirits are with us tonight. . . I'm being told that it's somewhere where you've already looked "ve times. . .

Given the people who listen to it, it's more likely at the garda station, where you surrendered it as a condition of your bail.

If there's any justice, these people are being charged premium rate for their calls.

AT A LOSS? TEXT ROSS

Some dude called Phil goes, "Can u print a pic . . . and phone number if you have it . . . of Suzanne Coyne, the bird off the golf show on tv3. Brings a whole new meaning to the phrase Ryder Cup."

You're getting your photograph, Phil, despite the awful pun. Apologies but we didn't have space to publish your equally hilarious holein-one and long putt gags.

Eimk goes, "Why do they call Club 92 the club of love? Why don't they call it the Club of do you fancy nipping around to the stand with me for a few minutes, I'd love to get a view of the course from up there?"

Ah, another one schooled over the jumps, like myself.

Some dude who doesn't give his name is there, "Overheard in DBS the other day . . . oh my God, chinese women drink, like, eight cups of green tea a day. no wonder they're so skinny, the bitches."

Why do they call that place Dumb Bulimics School, does anyone know?

Some dude who calls himself Atlas is there, "Did you get the News of the World last sunday rosser? They had a shot of Da Vinci Code star Audrey Tautou . . . with all her secrets revealed. That's proper journalism for you."

Yes, those I-Was-Young-INeeded-The-Money moments have provided me with endless hours of distraction over the years.