We hear that the mega-rich impresario, who has sunk millions into restoring a magnificent old pile in County Cork, is threatening to shuffle-ball-change away from the project unless he gets planning permission to erect a swanky new portico and staircase at the building’s entrance.
Flatley has spent over ™24 million over three years in an attempt to whip his Castlehyde mansion into shape, so that he can entertain in the lavish style to which he has become accustomed. But even though his restoration team includes what have been described as “Ireland’s top conservationist and builder” as well as a “recommended architect,” he has been told that the steps are a non-starter.
Flatley is gobsmacked at the objections, since, he says, he did everything “100 permcent by the book.”
“I didn’t ask for swiming pools on the roof or an outside discotheque,” he fumed to the Sunday World. “I didn’t ask to paint the house green or any other stupid nonsense.
“The current steps are dilapidated and dangerous,” he continued. “A small child was nearly killed on them.”
The dancer says he has no choice but to stop work on the project, even though doing so will put 200 people out of work.
“It’s a blow to [them], but what can I do?” he said. “I can’t access my home.”
In more Flatley news, the dancer stormed out of an interview with a Finnish newspaper when the reporter tried to get to the (ahem!) bottom of things.
Flatley gamely answered questions about his dreams (“Follow your dreams!” he exclaimed), whether his ability to tap 35 steps per second helps him in his everyday life (“No,” he said) and whether he was a fan of the Cat-Cat Duo, Finnish contestants in Eurovision 1994 (“Yes, they were great,” he hedged).
Things were proceeding nicely until the interviewer, Sami Rissanrn, asked Flatley to rate “from one to 10,” how hairy is arse was. Flatley flipped, and began shouting for his publicist.
“Honey! Please come in here!” he called. (Who calls their publicist “Honey”?)
“I want you to hear this question,” he huffed. Unfortunately, he wasn’t looking for a second opinion.
The journalist helpfully repeated the question.
“Honey” was unimpressed.
“It’s very hurtful even to ask Michael questions like this,” she scolded, as a wounded Flatley nodded mournfully. Like there’d be room for hair in one of those skin-tight LOD costumes . . .