Monthly Archives: October 2012
Stewartstown UFO Unexplained.
New Stewartstown resident?
Although daily sitings of a UFO in the greater Stewartstown area have diminished slightly since the weekend, the local Community Watch Committee remain vigilant over the whereabouts of the mysterious alien motor. Word first spread that there was some kind of vehicle in the sky soon after service at St Patrick Church of Ireland. Terence Bunn claims he was the first to spot the vehicle:
“I was thinking about what the good vicar had said about abstinence during his sermon and found myself staring into the sky contemplating drinking less on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays when all of a sudden I saw this unmistakeable disc-shaped object swirling gently in the breeze over the Stewartstown Credit Union. I almost collapsed in shock. No one came to my aid as they automatically thought I’d been drinking again, which admittedly I had been. It was only when I pointed to it that others became aware of the UFO. I hope that when the movie is made that someone like James Nesbitt or Clint Eastwood plays me.”
Before long, everyone in Stewartstown emptied out onto the main street (population approx. 1400) to stare at the moving object. Explanations ranged from a very fat moth to a hubcap. Within 24 hours, over half a million people descended on Stewartstown with the local pubs, shops and hostelries experiencing a roaring trade, unprecedented in the town’s history. They have since declared to be the richest town in Ireland with Fergal Logan as their first Lord Mayor.
One woman did come forward with an explanation. Frances Graham claimed her hat flew off her outside the church and that she’s 100% certain it’s hers as it was round, green with a red rosette on it – just like the UFO. She has since gone missing and her house graffitied with, “Do Ye Want To Be Called Tin Town Again, Ye Hoor”
Tyrone Classifieds – October
WANTED SECTION:
Two adult tricycles. Good breaks, not too rusty. Must be able to hold 15 stone each. Needed for romantic excursions with wife. Ardboe.
A yellow and green button for my shirt. Shirt has been very successful at Sally’s in Omagh. Tattyreagh.
Surgeon required for new surgery in Coalisland. No experience necessary. Must have own tools.
Someone to do farm work. Must have a hoolahoop. Augher.
The person I hit on the head with a tomato in Beragh in 1958. Feel guilty. Fivemiletown.
Someone to go back in time with. No time-wasters. Must bring your own weapons. Safety cannot be guaranteed. Will get paid when we get back. Only done this once before. Strabane.
Someone who can speak and write Australian. Relatives visiting in three months so want teacher asap. Brocagh.
SELLING SECTION:
Child’s potty chair. 10 years old. Slight staining. Newmills. £20
Used gravestone. Used only once. Must be called Patrick Kelly. Dungannon. £300
Soccer ball. Signed by either Pele, the greatest footballer on earth from Brazil, or some guy called Peter. Writing faint. Moortown. £100
Bagpiper. Will do wedding, funerals and children’s parties. Not the greatest piper but no one can tell. £50 per hour. Plumbridge.
Dinosaur bones. Not 100% sure but look a bit like the way I imagine they would. Found in bog in Greencastle. £50’000
Horse. Half Andalusian. Half Labrador. Very friendly. Likes bones. Drumragh. £600
One pair of hardly used dentures. Only three teeth missing. Galbally. £50
Vosene Shampoo. Only half used. Bargain at £4. Also Mach 3 razor blade. Only used twice. Mint condition. £2. Edendork.
Miss Greencastle Pageant Passes Off Peacefully. Aussie Actor Adjudicates.
Bishop was a big Greencastle fan
The 2012 Miss Greencastle pageant did not require a visit from the police for the first year since its inception in 1964, sparking a great night of celebration in the clubrooms. Formerly called The Loveliest Girl from Greencastle (1964-1969), The Beautiful Blade (1970-1989) and You’re A Quare One (1990-2004), this year’s Miss Greencastle was adjudicated by Neighbours actor Ian Smith who plays the angelic Harold Bishop in the long-running Australian Soap. Smith was called in due to the previous incidents which have plagued the highlight of the Greencastle Community Weekend. Harold Bishop (Smith was in character over the weekend) was seen as a safe option what with his Christian outlook in the programme itself.
‘We couldn’t chance another disaster”, gala director Dermy McDevlin told us. “Last year we had Alf Stewart from Home and Away and sure didn’t he wreck the place after he got his first taste of Guinness. There were a few of the potential Miss Greencastles he didn’t like the look of and hurled out insults like “flamin thunder thighs ye galah” and “strewth, bingo wings” much to the anger of boyfriends and family. It was a bomb-site after the riot receded. Harold was a gentleman and even blushed when one of the Miss Greencastles told the story of her slipping on a pick axe when dunging out the yard, displaying her knickers for everyone to see. I thought he was going to pass out.”
The winner, Magdalene Teague, won easily, scoring 79 points out of 100. Her party piece was plastering over a hole in the makeshift lorry truck in under 12 minutes. Her interests included shouting at GAA matches, playing dead and mooing. Last year’s winner Henrietta Tracey didn’t take the defeat too well and was caught slashing the tyres on Bishop’s Ute shouting “stick that in your blinking barbie, fair dinkum?”
Bishop, as expected, was in typical charitable form:
“Ah, one of God’s creatures gone astray, the young jillaroo. Up the ‘Castle. I’ve been a fan of them since way back you know. Yes, they’re a real rip-snorter club. Madge loved them and we’d a picture of Sean Teague in the bedroom.”
Eglish Entrepreneur’s Dragons’ Den Dejection
Self-styled madcap Eglish inventer Mattie Glackin has slammed the judges from the BBC show Dragon’s Den after being rejected by all five dragons following his sales pitch which fell on deaf ears. The show, which sees entrepreneurs attempt to secure funding from rich benefactors (dragons) for their innovative idea, saw its biggest viewing figures in Tyrone since the series began. A total of 68 people watched Mattie hit the dragons with everything he had, only to fall short of the mark in spectacular style. Earlier, Glackin gave his reaction:
“Shower a fcukers, the lot of them. How could they not be impressed, especially with my first proposal – the Spovel. The Spovel is a mixture of a spade and a shovel. You can dig holes with it as a spade and in order to shovel the soil away you press a button at the top of the shaft and hey presto – curved walls appear on either side of the spade. I showed it to the lads down the club the day before and one fella said it was class. Not these hoors. That Duncan Ballantyne boy said it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever seen. I nearly rammed the Spovel up his hole right there and then. I should have.”
Undeterred, Glackin managed to pull out two more inventions only to be faced with the same response only on a much blunter scale.
“I then showed them the Bocks. The Bock is a boot with a sock already inside it, attached. I tried it for a week beforehand and I found that I cut my getting ready time in the morning by at least 45 seconds. There was no need to be looking for socks. One of the dragons asked for security to remove me at this stage. Before they arrived up the stairs, I showed the dragons my Spork – a mixture of spoon and fork. The woman dragon told me never to darken their doors again “with that shite” she says. The tall boy at the end of the line said the Spork already exists and that I would be hearing from a solicitor. All-in-all it was a horrific experience. I was glad to be back in Eglish. I’ve already received six orders for the Bocks from local builders.”
Glackin says he remains positive about his future and aims to shatter the local impression of him as a ‘useless oul bollox’ as described by his old headmaster. He is currently working on a ‘Studgel’ – a stick and a cudgel all in one – an instrument you can use as a walking stick as well as a weapon for fighting outside discos at the weekend.
This Weekend In Tyrone
A guide to What’s on in Tyrone for the weekend Sat 6th – Sun 7th October:
Suckin Diesel Debut In Clubland
New Moortown band – Suckin Diesel – make their first public appearance in Cookstown tonight. Describing themselves as a mixture of Eileen Donaghy music rapper-style classical jazz, the loughshore boys use only tools they picked up in one of their da’s sheds. Paddy Quinn is lead singer and also plays the chisel. Francey Devlin is on empty crate, Mary Hagan is on hammer and hubcap whilst the joker of the pack, Red Harry O’Donnell plays the welding mask and spade. More Power To Your Elbow, move over! They will also perform in Cappagh beforehand (see below).
Pomeroy Train-Spotting Convention
Tomorrow sees the 19th annual PTSC extravaganza behind the Post Office in Pomeroy tomorrow morning at 8am sharp. Although no train has passed Pomeroy since the late 50s, fanatics still gather once a year with binoculars and sandwiches in case they catch a glimpse of one that was running late perhaps. For thrills and spills, come to Pomeroy tomorrow morning. No mention of the hill/mountain debacle allowed.
Seskinore Peter Canavan Lookalike Competition
Last year’s Canavan lookalike winner.
The third Canavan lookalike competition takes place in the parish hall in Seskinore tonight (9pm). Last year’s winner Harry Tully is a firm favourite to win it for the second time of asking. Last year’s victory was all the more surprising as Peter himself took part and only finished third. This year’s winner gets a pound of mince.
Cappagh World Record Attempt
This evening (7pm, chapel car park), Cappagh will have the Guinness World Record officials in the vicinity as Peter Hampsey attempts to suck the diesel from 40 cars in three minutes. Using just a bit of plastic piping and a bucket, he’ll attempt to drain over three dozen family vehicles by sucking the fuel and letting it low into the aforementioned container. Police are not welcome. Sucking Diesel will perform their hit record ‘Tramp On, Boss” during proceedings.
Derrylaughan Healing Weekend
Derrylaughan GFC are staging a weekend of healings and cures at their well-being centre on the edge of the lough. Using the powers of Lough Neagh and the mythical curing properties of the Holy River, organiser Dermot Brannigan claims all ailments are treated from bunions, verucas and facial warts to consumption, laziness and having quare notions. Entry is free and only a donation of £20 is required. All monies will be used to get water for the Holy River which dried up in 2001.
Strabane Woman ‘Not At Herself’ After ‘Bad Oul Bug’
Farmer, this morning
One of Strabane’s most respected citizens, 86 year old ex-stripper Jane Farmer, has still not completely recovered from a ‘bad oul bug’ she thinks she got after not washing her hands immediately after visiting an old people’s home in Sion Mills. Farmer, who used to dance seductively for visiting American soldiers during the Second World War for twenty dollars, claims she is ‘not at herself’ at all since the worst of the bug left her system.
“Feck me pink”, the octogenarian said, ” I put some time of it in there. Anything I ate came straight up and I love me pork chops. That was hard to take but it wasn’t the worst part. The shite was flying straight out of me. I’d be queuing up for the pension and you’d just hear the slap of it hitting the ground. I’m too long in the tooth to be embarrassed about it and if others were offended then they need to toughen up. These modern day people are useless with their private computers and mobile telephones. In my day you’d be mopping up your family’s dung every day and never bat an eyelid. Don’t get me started. What are them young people wearing. I saw a lad today and his trousers were below his briefs. A boy like that would have been strung up on a lamp-post in Strabane town in my day. Big dirty boxer shorts. Some bollocks that.”
Farmer thinks she contacted the bug when visiting her younger sister (82) in an old people’s home four miles away. Maisie Farmer, like Jane, never married and lived with her sister until they fell out over religion in 1999. Since then they have patched things up with Maisie moving in the the old people’s home to chase one-time dreamboat Dick Logan (89) who was an ex-marine from the 1950s.
“Maisie said she wasn’t at herself either and had been throwing up all week with the odd dose of explosive diarrhea. I asked her why the feck she hadn’t said it earlier. Typical selfish demented oul bitch. She just sits and stares at that tramp Dick Logan and him completely insane, dribbing away like a child. The smell of pish off him too. Stupidly, I got back into my Nova without washing my hands. Driving home was another bad experience with these sunglassed hoors in their massive cars and a pack of screaming spoilt pricks in the back. In my day you went to bed elated if you only got one welt around the head for coughing or sneezing. Don’t know they’re born.”
Jane hopes to be at herself tomorrow.
Mountains of Pomeroy Downgraded to Hills
One of the Pomeroy ex-mountains
Tension were high in Pomeroy tonight after UTV reported that their mountains were a sham and had always been just a ‘lock of wee hills’ according to the official Tyrone geologist Daniel Durkin.
In a move which has shaken the village to its foundations, the ramifications are mammoth with songs, poems and sign posts needing to be adjusted before midnight tonight. UTV revealed the exclusive as their lead item in this evening’s news, releasing Durkin’s statement to the general public:
“After extensive research over the last few days, we have come to the educated conclusion that there are, in fact, no mountains in Pomeroy. To be honest, there are a few hills and some of them aren’t even that big. I’ve seen bigger sandcastles. These people are deluding themselves. I witnessed women in the shop talking about there being ‘gold in them there mountains’. They even sell ‘The Pomeroy Yeti’ t-shirts to foreigners, making them believe that there’s a creature roaming about Pomeroy’s mounds. They’re just wee drumlins. From midnight tonight, anyone seen promoting the existence of hills or making money from merchandise around this fallacy will be detained without trial. Mountains my arse.”
Pomeranians have reacted angrily to the news with reports tonight of derelict farm buildings on fire and mass looting of the Centra shop. Local bulb-fixer Paddy Molloy voiced the anger of the village:
“Are they blind? Look at them there mountains. They’re massive and in the winter there’d be snow on them. Are you telling me that George Sigerson was wrong when he wrote that song about Renardine and the pale bride? What about the Artane Boys’ Band? What are they going to play now? The Lily of Lough Neagh? I say we burn the whole place down in protest.”
Durkin is currently looking into The Hills Above Drumquin with early indications pointing towards a downgrading to ‘a bit of a heap’.
Moygashel Man Not Fond Of Brussel Sprouts and Christmas
A Moygashel machine operator admitted this morning that he’s not overly enamored with Brussel Sprouts in spite of what he has said at every dinner table he has eaten at around Christmas since 1955. Malachy Carney made the astonishing outburst to his mate Gerry the plumber as they fished for small perch in the Torrent River before sunrise on Wednesday.
“I’m coming clean this year,” he told Gerry the plumber, “I can’t stand the fcukers. Since a young lad I’ve watched people put them in their gob and chew whilst trying not to show the utter feeling of revulsion and disgust on their face. It was a sign of weakness for a man in Moygashel not to like the sprouts. I remember my grandfather passing out after eating his second one and he put it down to ‘bad movements’ so no one asked any questions. I knew rightly. Well, that’s it for me. I’d rather ate a boul a dung.”
Carney’s nightmare
Malachy, who was in a particularly bad mood this morning, also admitted he didn’t really like Christmas and wouldn’t be sending any Christmas cards out this year, even to his in-laws. Gerry took up the story:
“Jaysus he was in foul form altogether. He said he hadn’t received a Christmas present he’d liked since he got a pile of Lego when he was 5. This annoyed me a bit as I’d bought him a pair of Brian Dooher trunks last year. Then he pledged not to reply to cards he received as the majority were a shower of miserable bastards the rest of the year who’d cross the street if they saw you coming. Just when I thought he was finished he said he didn’t believe in Jesus anyway and says there’s no way yer woman rode on a donkey with her nine months pregnant in the depths of winter.”
Malachy repeated the message to Mrs Carney on arriving home, only to be met with an avalanche of abuse about ‘acting the bollocks’ and that he would be eating the sprouts ‘or there’d be no drink bought the year’. Carney said he would take a few then.
Diesel 0.002p Cheaper in Coagh. Crowds Flock.
An estimated 40’000 visited Coagh yesterday, including people from France, after the news broke that the local filling station had boldly SLASHED their diesel prices by 0.002p per litre. Queues were backed right up to Cookstown as drivers filled up anything they could to avail of the unexpected bargain at Henry’s Store on the Urbal Road. Declan Herbert, a retired gardener, took no time in stocking up on fuel:
“I got a text message from my neighbour and immediately thought someone must be dead. I couldn’t believe my eyes when he told me Henry’s had cut the clear stuff by 0.002p per litre. It was a dream come through. I threw the family into the back of the yoke and gave them all a barrel to look after. We must’ve taken 4000 litres back with us, spending the guts of £5000 but it was worth it. Christmas will be a bit bare this year in the house. There’ll definitely be no turkey but look at all that diesel. Now I just need to buy a diesel car and other dieselly stuff.”
Carnage in Coagh
Punters were dealt a slight blow though when paying for the bought diesel. At the till, they were informed of the small print which stated that for customers to avail of the 0.002p reduction, they had to purchase £20 at the hot food counter. Eyewitnesses confirmed reports that mini-riots broke out in the garage as families fought over cooked turkeys and Irish stew in order to reach the £20 quota. Shelf-stacker Gerry Turbett observed the scenes:
“There was carnage in there. People were in a bad mood already because they’d spent hundreds of pounds on diesel only to be told they needed to buy another £20 of meat. Tempers were frayed and I personally saw one woman battering another repeatedly on the ground with a leg of lamb. It was frightening. People were climbing over the counter and stuffing pork chops down their trousers etc before others got to them. Coagh was a quiet town and the only bad thing to happen here was when a fella was caught looking at his neighbour getting ready with a pair of binoculars, the dirty bastard. But, listen, you don’t turn your nose up at a 0.002p diesel sale. “
Henry McCracken released a statement yesterday thanking all customers for their purchases, claiming he’d sold £1.3m in diesel and £9000 in hot food during a 6-hour period yesterday. He added that you could buy two bottles of water for a pound today, as long as you also purchased 3 items from the hardware store.
Galbally Man Says He’s Deadly At Javelin
A Galbally boiler servicer announced yesterday that he’s on course to reach the Olympics in Brazil 2016 at the javelin throwing. Mark Kerlin took the decision to train for the next Olympics in Rio after attending the London games earlier in the year with his father Joe, a former arm-wrestling champion at Galbally sports day.
“I only went to see yer man Bolt and the javelin was on at the same time. I know I was high up, and steaming as well, and that may have distorted my judgement but, Jaysus, them throwers were pure shite. My da agreed with me. He said he has thrown children further. It was then that it dawned on me. In a drunken pledge, I decided to get myself into shape and throw for Ireland in the next Olympics. I am going to put this place on the map. Imagine them Brazilians saying Galbally.”
It took Kerlin a while to get the rhythm
Kerlin managed to steal a javelin from the local primary school and set to work around the back of his house, throwing the thing “3 or 4 times a day”.
“I’m not saying it was easy at first. I spiked the neighbour’s Labrador with my first throw as well as other fatal mishaps. Half of my left ear is missing. What? But I soon got into a rhythm and, with the support of my good wife who tramps out the distance each time, I’m up to 15m a throw. The Irish record is 70m. It’s only a matter of time bejaysus. The cars on the main road probably think there’s something wrong with me when they see me hurling the thing, dressed in a sports vest. Well, I’ll have the last laugh when I line out in Rio de Janeiro, the sniggering fcukers. I can hear what they’re shouting out the window.”
The boilerman has started asking for sponsorship but has not managed to secure any funding from local businesses, labelling them “a miserable shower of fcuking stingy bastards. Typical Galbally hoors. I’m moving to Kildress.”
Tyrone Tribulations 