Author Archives: Gombeen
Brocagh Man Fights Shark In Roughan Lough. No Witnesses.
A Brocagh bulb-fitter, Dessie Davidson, yesterday claimed to have beaten off a ‘baste of a shark’ during a charity swim on St Stephen’s Day in Roughan Lough, just outside Newmills. Roughan officials are now investigating the incident and have warned people not to take to the lough unless they feel confident of beating a shark in a scuffle. Davidson, 46, was reportedly shaken up after the incident but has since managed to calm his nerves with an ‘unmerciful feed of stout’.
“Jays it was deadly like. I was swimming away, raising money for the new Mountjoy Donkey Sanctuary, when I felt a presence behind me. I turned and before I knew it I was in a full blown fist-fight with this shark. I don’t think it was local. It was pummelling away with its big leathery fins but I was giving it as good as I got. It was like punching leather at times and I could hear the yelps out of it after I dished out an uppercut or kidney punch. We both drew blood but it swam off first so I’d say I got the better of it. It was a traumatic experience and I’ve been on the batter since. I don’t think it was a swan. Nearly sure about that.”
Although there were no witnesses, Newmills knitting expert Greta Gordon (88) contacted the BBC last night to relate the story of being attacked by a dragon in the grounds of the castle last year during the Chinese New Year festivities. Roughan Castle Security Officals remain sceptical about the incident and maintain it could be Harry Campbell from Brackaville larking about in the shark costume he said he was getting for Christmas.
“No one has been beheaded in the castle since 1641. However, that could change if we find out Davidson was full drunk at the time and just got tangled up in seaweed,” claimed Lough manager Sir William Churchbottom.
He also announced that you can buy ‘I saw the Roughan shark’ mugs and tshirts up at the lough from today.
New Red Diesel Laws Sees Rise In Tractors At Clonoe Church
“An effin tractor convention” were the words uttered by an irritated Fr Hannigan last week during his homily at a packed Clonoe church. HM Revenue & Custom confirmed that during extreme weather farmers can use red diesel in their tractors to help grit and clear snow from public roads, earlier in the month. In an obvious floutation of the new ruling, it has been estimated that every household in the parish now own a second hand tractor for everyday use, from going to the local shop for milk to bringing the children to carol services. Fr Hannigan’s patience finally cracked after the racket made by late-comers arriving in their New Hollands made the opening ten minutes of his service completely inaudible.
“The penny dropped when I saw Mrs McGrath and Mrs Taggart arriving at Saturday night’s mass in their own tractors. McGrath was attempting to steer a creaking 1967 Cockshut Hartparr through the front pillars. She broke the head off one of them and bulled on through the once-beautiful garden. My maid was distraught when she saw her demolished dahlia beds. Mrs Taggart was some sight. Descending from her Massey 2004, didn’t she get her frock caught somewhere in the cab, ripping the fabric from around her behind. There was some queue behind her at communion. Men who never took the bread were up like a shot for a gawk. No one will complain about the awkwardness of driving these monsters as the money saved on untaxed fuel seems to be worth the hassle. It has to stop though. The church grounds resemble a monster truck rally. And the buckin sound.”
Teachers have also complained about the carnage at hometime when over 150 tractors and snow ploughs turn up to collect the children. Police appear to be powerless to intervene as the roads are so bad around the area that even pensioners justified tramping through the shite in Davy Browns with Christmas presents balancing on the drawbars.
Coalisland Weatherman Sacked After One Day. Dialectal Differences Blamed.
Despite three years at UUC studying Media and Journalism, Coalisland’s great TV hope Henry Savage was given his P45 after one day presenting the weather on obscure Sky channel Horse And Country HD. Savage was said to be distraught tonight having to deal with his first major failure in life after achieving seven GCSEs (2A, 2B, 3C) and three A Levels (BCD). Horse And Country HD issued a statement this evening explaining the sudden departure of the Brackaville Road presenter:
“It was a simple issue of translation. Although warned beforehand by our Maghery floor-mopper that the Tyrone accent was the least TV-friendly brogue out there, we were impressed at Savage’s educational background. He got a B in his 11+ back in 1986. Yet we had to let him go after our phoneline almost melted with complaints after his one and only weather presentation. When he said ‘I doubt it’ll be heavy rain for England today’, the nation assumed he was telling them it wouldn’t be raining beyond a light drizzle. Little did we know that in Coalisland ‘I doubt it will rain’ means ‘it’ll be raining, in my opinion’. You understand the difficulty we have in interpreting his predictions. Seventeen t-shirt wearing pensioners were admitted to a local A&E in Kent having been caught out in torrential rain following Henry’s advice, with three having suspected hyperthermia.”
Calls also swamped the network when Savage warned the viewers that they’d be ‘foundered’ if they ‘headed out’ as it’d be ‘tara’. Unable to find those words in the dictionary, many viewers refused to leave their houses for fear of some type of climatic disaster. Two men were sacked from their jobs for failing to turn up after Henry’s advice and are demanding compensation.
Savage says he’ll continue to pursue his dream of being a TV presenter but will start mixing with people from Edendork or Donaghmore in order to widen his vocabulary.
Strabane Prepares For End Of Civilisation on the 21st
Strabane, traditionally a few steps ahead of the rest of the county, have shown the way again by drawing up a watertight schedule for the end of the world on Friday. Whilst other towns and villages in Tyrone have received the Mayan prophecy with a sizeable degree of scepticism, the home of Hugo Duncan have bought one hundred percent into the doomsday scenario and have all received leaflets tonight offering instructions and advice for the apocalypse. Driving the initiative is local lunatic Damien McElhinney, a former taxi driver for the clergy.
“You have to laugh at them eejits up in Sion Mills. They’re waltzing about thinking things will be OK. Well, they’ll be kicking themselves when they’re hurriedly faced with the Final Judgement unprepared whilst the Strabane ones don’t bat an eyelid. I have been able to pinpoint the cataclysm at around 9:30pm on Friday, just before The Late Late Show starts. All farmers in the area have been told to have the milking done and land red up by around six. Then the spuds should be on the table long before The One Show starts. The rest of the time should be set aside to tidying the house, homework completed and then baths for the children, and general relaxation before the planet implodes and we’re transported to our everlasting paradise. Them Omagh ones are going to be raging at our meticulous planning whilst they worry about hair straighteners left on or the dog roaming the rampart.”
Although refusing to be drawn on the exact nature of the End of Times, McElhinney says there’ll be an unbearable sound of wailing and gnashing of teeth coupled with horrifying groans of the fatally maimed, but not in Strabane.
“We’ve decided to bring forward the Strabane Community Lottery a day from Saturday as there’d be some complaining about it from this shower, even up in Nirvana.”
33 Stewartstown Motorists Fined For Picking Nose In Traffic
Over thirty Stewartstown women and men were fined this evening on their way out the Lisnastrane Road following a PSNI sting on blatant public nose-picking motorists.
Labelled ‘Operation Neb’, the police service landed £30 on the spot fines to the wannabe Christmas shoppers within an age range of 17-81. The action was taken after a rash of complaints since the summer regarding the upsurge of loose-fingered drivers, especially those driving Astras. Superintendent Mark Delilah explained:
“We’d been inundated with complaints from Coalisland and Cookstown residents in recent months regarding the chain of nose-pickers winding their way towards their towns to do a bit of shopping. Children were being chased into houses or alleyways by protective parents for fear they’d catch a glimpse of this monstrous habit. We simply had to act. Intelligence operators told us the residents generally left their houses around 7pm after dinner. Hiding in the hedge, we saw the initial few cars weave their way towards Coalisland and sure enough the first few were hoking around their snouts. Without hesitation we pounced, nailing 33 motorists. Hopefully that is the warning shot Stewartstown needed.”
Amongst the offenders was 75 year old Frances Dillon, a retired knitting machine operator.
“I was picking me nasal passage because I thought you had to. Any motor making its way to Coalisland from Stewartstown would have someone cleaning out their sniffer. I just believed it was compulsory in order to smell the delightful spices around Annagher or the Lineside. I’ll not be paying the thirty quid. They can stick it.”
Stewartstown Residents Society are considering blocking the Lisnastrane Road tomorrow in a show of solidarity for the accused, especially Fergal Tennyson so was fined £60 for scratching his arse at the same time.
New Rules See Polish Scrabble Champion In Dungannon
There was a sense of unease in Dungannon today after last night’s annual Scrabble tournament saw a foreign victor for the first time since its inception in 1984. With Matel announcing that they were allowing proper nouns, Polish native Wojech Wasnickski (19) romped to the title, beating 10-time champion and ex-schoolteacher Colm Doris (55) by over 100 points in the final. Wasnickski admitted afterwards that he simply spelt out the names of places from home as well as a few cousins’ first names. Doris said he was finding the whole thing a bit shambolic.
“Listen, everyone knows I’m the smartest in Dungannon. I’ve won this thing ten times. Last year I used words no one around here had ever heard of such as ‘ladylike’ and ‘apologetically’. Now these buckin rules have changed and yer man Wasnickski was in his element. I think he was making half them names up. He scored 122 points for Aleksandrów Kujawski. He says it is near Warsaw. Like for Jaysus’ sake. The longest we have is Loughmacrory or Castlecaufield. He then scored over 200 points for his cousin’s name, Benedyck Banaszynski. The most I managed was 43 for Iggy Jones. I’d have doubts that this Benedyck lad exists atall.”
Wasnickski goes on now to the county final as hot favourite where he’ll met the champions from other areas including three-time champion Hettie Horridge (82) who emerged from the Moortown heat yet again, winning her final with the word ‘budley’. Although not existing in the Oxford English Dictionary, local words are allowed as long as they’re placed in context by the user. Her explanation of “My husband has some budley on him” was found to be an acceptable usage.
Pig-Renting Shop Re-ignites Investment In Urney
Despite being ‘laughed out of it’ during the infant weeks of his new business venture ‘iPigs’, Urney entrepreneur Joe McCafferty has turned the sleepy townland of Urney into Europe’s most affluent area after Paris in under a year.
Such is the reputation of the West Tyrone hinterland, high earners in Hollywood and Russian cosmonauts are considering buying a second home in the area.
McCafferty, despondent at the the chronic effect the never-ending recession has had on his homeplace, took a gamble and opened a pig-renting shop iPig. Despite being told that his idea was “a load of shit” by struggling local shop owners, Joe persisted and is now the wealthiest man in Ireland after Michael Lyster and Gay Byrne.
“I just thought the country was couped and had a lock of pigs floating about the back yard. I cleaned them up and started Joe’s iPigs and didn’t people start renting pigs. I’ve no idea why. I just suppose folk were so broke they thought somehow owning a pig for a week might make them happy. Anyone with a pig on a leash seemed to be without a care in the world.
Since word got out, over 400 pigs from iPigs were rented out for an average of 3 days with customers are young as 4.
“I think they then became a fashion accessory amongst youngsters so word got out on Twitter that the next big thing was to have a rented pig. I then started selling iPig pig clothes as accessories. They were like hot cakes. Within three months I’d made £3.5m I think. Another lad tried opening a rival pig-renting shop was Micropig at the other end of the street but I threatened him and then bought him off. To those who said I was mad – up yours, ye dicks.”
McCafferty has pumped much of his takings back into the townland and has built a massage parlour and a castle, opened a Harrods, Top Man, Prada, Georgio Armani and a Chanel shop.
Someone looking like Keira Knightly was reportedly seen down near Clady looking at houses whilst Nigella Lawson loosely talked about opening a cafe in the main street.
Joe’s iPig pigs can be rented for £5 a day for a maximum of two weeks.
Dromore Bankrupt After Bad Santa. Nativity Play Worse.
Dromore this morning is reeling from the news that yesterday’s Santa visit to the community hall coupled with the riotous behaviour after the nativity play has cost the village £1.2m. Plans are already in place to raise funds over the next five years with talk of the next few Christmases being low-key affairs or even cancelled until they foot the bill. What hurt the committee even more this morning was the realisation that they had hired the worse Santa in living memory and the farcical scenes during the much-anticipated festive play. Gerard McAllister, chairman of the Dromore Christmas Society, explains:
“We knew we were in trouble when Santa pulled up in the back of a pick-up truck which sped off in the Omagh direction. The fact that he was a woman was one obstacle to overcome – reeking of drink doubled the disappointment. With 300 expectant children and parents waiting in the hall, I had no option but to sober her up. It was then that she demanded her cheque up front – £500’000. Our treasurer had booked her through an advert in the Irish News without thrashing out a deal beforehand. It turned out she was a Men’s Club Stripping Santa. After a bit of pushing, slapping and shoving we agreed to write out the cheque as long as she kept her clothes on whilst dishing out the gifts which we also had to find at short notice. We scoured the changing rooms and managed to gather old socks, deodorant and dirty shorts to wrap. Anything lying about was considered. Although the children were a bit confused with the cleavage, lipstick and blonde hair, she kept it professional and only blew kisses and winked at a couple of fathers.”
Things went from bad to worse minutes before the Nativity play was to commence. Half the cast, all male, left to go with the Santa into Belfast. That left them without a Joseph, two wise kings and baby Jesus. Beforehand they were just worried about the depiction of Mary who was being played by McAllister’s mother, 86-year old Jenny McAllister.
“It didn’t take long before the boos were raining down on us. You have to understand how short the notice was. We managed to convince 5-year-old Harry Behan to play Joseph and he has an awful stutter. One of the Wise Kings was played by my 12-year-old border collie Rufus, and Mary gave birth to a melon in a blanket. It was all we had. Well, the crowd started to cut up rough. The children had opened their presents by this stage and the contents were being used as missiles. Studs, y-fronts and Deep Heat tubes were arrowing up on stage. Rufus got nervous and started piddling in the crib, ate the melon and then bit young Harry. It was awful. Just awful. I understood their anger. We’d charged them £30 in for this.”
The proceeding village riot cost an estimate £700’000 in damages. Barns were set alight and the traffic lights defaced. Fund-raising starts tonight with a wet sponge throwing stall. McAllister has volunteered to take the hits.
Sean The Red Boy Wants Nicknames Banned. Soupy Agrees.
One of Tattyreagh’s most colourful characters, Sean The Red Boy, has called on people in the parish to use his proper name when he eventually finds out what it is. In a move to improve their chances of getting a good job in politics or civil service, others have followed suit including Gerard Soupy Campbell, Seamus The Yellow Fellow, Tom’s Damien and Ramblin Henry. In a statement to be read out at Mass on Sunday in six neighbouring parishes as well as their own, forty-nine signatories have ratified the move for formal recognition of the birth names and the eradication of tradition family nicknames. Sean The Red Boy explains further:
“I’m buckin sick and tired of it y’know. There are times I go into the job office and I don’t get past the introduction stage. As soon as I say I’m Sean The Red Boy, they thank me for turning up and that they’ll be in touch. My father, Hugh The Red Boy, had the same problem in Tattyreagh and never worked a day in his life because of it apart from the odd bit of help he gave to farmers with horses stuck in ditches. As soon as I find out what my real surname is I’ll be using it. I checked the census and even in 1911 my great grandfather wrote ‘X the Red Boy’. He was aware of his nickname but not his first nor surname. It has to stop. All them Soupy Campbells are the same. Gerard Soupy says he got serious slagging in school with lads filling his schoolbag with lentils and leeks. It stops now.”
Tattyreagh Historical Society Chairman, John ‘The Baker’ King, rebuked this initiative and claimed it’ll take more than a few whiners to changes the ways of the area that they’ve held dear for generations.
“Sean The Red Boy would need to wise the head. He’ll always be one of the Red Boys in the same way as Francie The Cock up the road will remain one of the Cocks. And sure hasn’t he a great job picking blackberries for Mrs Turner from Omagh in the summer. You can succeed with a nickname. Look at me. I’m chairman of this committee, doing The Bakers proud. OK, I do nothing else but I’m not moaning about it.”
Meanwhile, Seamus The Yellow Fellow has threatened blow the head clean off anyone who calls him or his sons one of The Yellow Fellows from now on, or even if he hears about it. The PSNI have appealed for calm.
Plans For Hotel In Galbally May Go Ahead
Ambitious plans to build an hotel in Galbally by ‘the end of the year’ by local lunatic, Peader Johnson, may actually be passed in time for work to begin on Sunday at the latest. The sleepy hamlet, which vies for tourism with nearby Cappagh, has been devoid of visitors since 2008. Johnson, an unemployed plasterer, was said to have ‘thrown the head up’ in the bar last week and decided to submit plans for a luxurious hotel to be built on a piece of land behind the pub. Bar manager Johnny Tally was impressed by Johnson’s plans:
“Jayz it sounds great like. Peader’s a bit of a header but he means well and if he manages to pull this off we’ll erect a statue in his honour. To be honest, it’s a bit depressing here. I’ve had the same dozen customers for four years now and even they’re getting sick at the sight of each other. Them Cappagh fcukers have the market cornered with their outdoor natural spa and mountain. Where they got the mountain idea from I don’t know but it was a genius stroke, all those millions of years ago.”
Johnson’s plans include provision for a 10-room suite with gold sofas, cushions, gilt mirrors and chandeliers. A grand foyer will dazzle the eye with an elaborate floor made of four kinds of marble from the Bahamas. The 15-metre-long living room will hold a baby grand piano. The vast entertainment centre will come with a full-service bar. Throw in the eye-popping balcony views of Pomeroy and Kildress, a butler and it’ll be hard to turn down the £25’000 a night offer.
Local convenience store owner Mary McCann wasn’t completely in favour:
“Listen, I’m all on for people coming to Galbally. It would be great to se people like Sean Connery and Gandhi coming here and spending all their money. That’s fine. It’s just that my store only does the papers, bread and a slap of milk. Them foreigners will be asking for queer things like salami and celery. And probably Amazonian camel’s piss. Can’t be scundered with that craic.”
Johnson claims he has a few lads from Cappagh with experience of plastering at GNVQ level.
Kildress Senior Citizen Christmas Dinner Ends In Carnage
The annual Kildress Christmas dinner at the weekend saw scenes of violence not witnessed in the area since the 1822 McGurk/McHenry feud over access to a field. Tempers had been fraying in the preceding weeks between two of the more elderly locals over the choice of sauce for the turkey. Maisie Loughran (93) insisted that the sauce has always been Cranberry and that’s how it would be come December 9th (yesterday). Paudie Quinn (88) disagreed:
“Her head’s cut and it has been since 1994. I’ve been attending the SC Christmas dinner for twenty years now and the sauce has always been chestnut sauce. Without fail. That oul witch was just causing bother because her arch nemesis Jacinta McIntyre was doing the singing for a change this year. She has a wonderful voice, a much better alternative to the cat-screeching coming out of Maisie’s gob. There’s only so many times you can listen to ‘Cloak Of Many Colours’ in the wrong key.”
Things cut up rough when dinner was served and Maisie’s sauce was poured. Old People’s Home director Sandy Castle took up the story:
“It was a bloodbath. As soon as the chestnut sauce was poured, Maisie gingerly lifted her plate full of food and eventually fired it straight at Paudie’s face, the turkey hanging from his nose. It all went off from there. Paudie made his way over to Maisie’s chair after a few minutes and started pulling the hair off her. Others waded in and it was like watching a WWF fight in extreme slow motion. Century-old vendettas surfaced and the McGurk/McHenry residents bate the heads clean off each other with walking sticks and denture creams. It was disgraceful but it has managed 7000 views on YouTube and hopefully I can sell the Director’s Cut stuff at Nutts Corner this weekend. Savage stuff. Jacinta was singing away throughout it all ‘I Saw Mummy Kissing Santa Clause’, oblivious to the war scenes around her, God bless her.”
Police arrived before dessert was served to restore peace and order. One was hit with a piece of Christmas cake as they left.
Derrylaughan Naval Base Plans Leaked. Ardboe On Alert.
Leaked documentation has confirmed that Derrylaughan’s ambition to become a world power by assembling an impressive fleet of naval ships at their own base on Lough Neagh are at an advanced stage. Suspicions grew at the weekend following the plantation of 30-feet tall evergreen trees at the loughshore, covering from view any work being carried out on the warships or port at the Lough. This morning, the documentation shows they plan to assemble 10 aircraft carriers, 22 cruisers, 62 destroyers, 28 frigates, 3 littoral combat ships, 9 amphibious assault ships, 2 amphibious command ships, 9 amphibious transport docks, 12 dock landing ships, 53 attack submarines, 14 ballistic missile submarines, 4 guided missile submarines, 14 mine countermeasures ships, 11 patrol boats, and 1 ship for catching pullens.
Worried Ardboe fisherman Frankie McGrogan told us:
“We knew this day would come. Them fcukers down the road have been up to something for ages. I’d a fair idea it was on the cards when we played Derrylaughan down at the Washingbay earlier in the year. I heard some of their players refer to Admiral Cushnahan and Commander In Chief Carney during play. We’re on red alert. They’re going to plunder us first mission just like the Vikings did in 955. I’ve locked up the shed anyway. They can take our women and Brocagh.”
Admiral Cushnahan denied any knowledge of the plans and explained his new name:
“Ah now sure it’s only a bit of craic like. The boys call me admiral because I’m a big fan of butterflies and my personal favourite is the Red Admiral. As for them there plans you have, it’s just some bucko messing around – probably a school project. I’ll give them back to the Rear-Admiral, sorry, young lad. Listen, we have no designs on world dominance. There’s no way we could complete with the South Korea Navy. Their modern ships and amphibious capability with AEGIS technology would destroy us in a millisecond. And sure, how could we get them out of the Lough? It’d be some sight for the people of Toome to watch those ships pass down the Bann. Frightening. Powerful.”
Ardboe have moved to counteract these recent developments by building a big wooden boat with a giant-sized slingshot.
Moy Woman Gets Tattoo. Locals Give Verdict.
Miss Moy 1988, Pamela Jordan (42), ‘went ahead anyway’ and got a tattoo of a llama on her outer thigh despite reservations expressed in the hamlet during the week. Jordan became the first Moy woman to go under the needle since Kirsty Mackle had a small gnu tattooed onto her heel in 1986. They remain the only people from the area to sport a tattoo. Eglish have reportedly seventeen people with skin graffiti. Tyrone Tribulations went out and about The Moy this morning to gauge reaction to Jordan’s decision.
“Well Holy Jaysus. Why in under God did she go ahead with it? She was a great looking young girl. That Miss Moy ’88 has gone to her head altogether. It’s in them Jordans. Her great aunt Elma was the first woman in the Moy to wear a short skirt, in 1949. I remember the local PP fainting when she went up for communion. To be fair, attendances went up. Something for the dads.” PADDY HOLMES (88)
“A llama. A buckin llama. What is wrong with a chinese proverb or some kind of celtic thing? It’s in them Jordans. Always thinking they’re pioneers. See them llamas, when they don’t like the eye in your head they start spitting, kicking and neck wrestling. Give it three months and all the young girls will be spitting and neck wrestling. I don’t mind the kicking.” SUSAN GLACKIN (55)
“Ah sure isn’t it great. A bit of positive news for the village. Although it’s in them Jordans, she’s free to do what she wants with her thighs. As for the llama, sure isn’t better than my nephew from Eglish who got one of a cock. Or was it a hen? I cannot remember but it was some kind of fowl. Some dick. Not the tattoo, him.” DENISE MARTIN (45)
“A gnu. Now a llama. Next they’ll be devil worshipping or snorting meth.” FR TOBY CASSIDY (71)
Coalisland Crowd Storm Brackaville Demanding Removal Of Flag
Inspired by the goings on at the City Hall in Belfast earlier in the week, a group calling themselves the Coalisland Restoration Appreciation Party (CRAP) have stormed the Brackaville Social Club tonight, demanding that the Brackaville Owen Roes flag hanging from the guttering is removed before Monday morning or they ‘take her down’ themselves. CRAP spokesman, Jab Herron, claimed they were willing to tolerate the flying of the flag in the midst of the local club’s failed assault on the Ulster title but now that it was at an end, there was no reason to keep it up.
“It’s bloody ridiculous. Brackaville is really the outskirts of Coalisland. We call it inner-city Coalisland where the shanty town type families scrape together a living by doing odd jobs like collecting golf balls. Now and again we do tours out to Brackaville for the Primate Dixon ones to show them what happens if you don’t do your sums and learn the english. Recently, we discovered that a few Brackaville residents were making forays into Coalisland under the cover of darkness. They were probably drinking the slops in bars or hanging around the back of Landi’s for scraps. We need to be vigilant about that. However, this flag flying craic must stop. Sometimes we have to travel through Brackaville to get to other places. We don’t need to see those dirty flags goading us. Provocation, all from a movement to follow a team bate by a river in Armagh.”
Brackaville Disaster Fund spokesman, Harry Gillis, sees it differently.
“Them fcukers would paint over us if they could. We are Brackaville. We are a people. This great run that the Owen Roes lads performed was a real lift for the community. Ok, we’ve had to start us a disaster fund to cover the expenses of every family in Brackaville heading to the final last week, but we can survive without tourism from the Island. We have the golf course and a lock of other lads doing stuff like welding. Them hoors are just jealous that we had Sean McNally, probably the best footballer in Tyrone ever after Iggy Jones. We shall not be moved. The flag stays. No surrender.”
CRAP have given Brackaville 48 hours to comply or they will dam Barrack Street, cutting off vital supplies like soda bread and the Irish News.
TYRONE COURT NOTICES DECEMBER
AGHALOO man Gertrude Sherry (55) has been sentenced to three weeks hard labour after being found guilty of wrecking a few shops in Aughnacloy. The original sentence was reduced on empathetic grounds after the full details emerged behind Sherry’s furious rampage. Having checked his lottery numbers on Saturday night, Sherry realised he had all six numbers and with a jackpot of £1.2m he immediately set off on a shopping spree overnight on the Internet, purchasing a 2011 Porche, a small helicopter, a cruise holiday for 12, back stage passes for the next Springsteen concert and a year’s worth of oil heating. It wasn’t until he went to collect his winnings that he was told 500,000 others had the same numbers (1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6), each winning just over £2. Sherry demolished half the town when he arrived home. The judge said any man would do the same, especially in Aughnacloy.
BERAGH boiler servicer Horace McNally (31) was remanded in custody after a failed robbery attempt just outside the village. McNally, out of work since the summer, attempted to rob a cafe in the Beragh area only to be told that he had to order something for them to be able to open the till. Looking at the menu, McNally ordered a ham sandwich and a cup of tea. After being told they’d run out of ham, he changed the order to a sausage bap. Again, unluckily for McNally, they’d run out of baps. Frustrated, Horace said he’d just take the tea to go. As the brew was being made, 15 minutes after the original demand, the police arrived on the scene and apprehended the hungry villain.
PLUMBRIDGE A Level student Leon McCabe (17) has been ordered to pay username ‘BigLad33’ £30 after calling him names on a well known GAA online forum. McCabe, who goes under the name of ‘BateItIntoThem’ on the same forum, got into a heated written exchange on the internet regarding Gortin’s failure to achieve promotion this year. Reacting to BigLad33’s assertion that Gortin weren’t good enough for division 1, McCabe released a torrent of abuse, calling BigLad33 a ‘tramp’, ‘c*ntyballs’ and ‘f*ckin frigid w*anker from Omagh’. The distressed BigLad33 said he was happy with the thirty quid. McCabe has been ordered to take a deep breath before typing.
Obama For Ardboe. Secret Footage Found
The following video was forwarded to us by an anonymous emailer.
http://www.xtranormal.com/watch/13985364/obama-heads-for-ardboe
Derrylaughan Apply To UN For Independent State Status
Following the successful and historic vote on Palestine during the week, Derrylaughan have forward a motion to follow in the Palestinian footsteps in the hope of becoming an independent state with its own currency and language. The small loughshore townland claim they have been misunderstood and discriminated against for over a century, citing the fact that even Mickey Harte doesn’t pick Derrylaughan men for the county team apart from the odd one. Other gripes include bad roads, flooding, midges, lack of investment from American fast food outlets and the absence of a red light district. Harry Corr, a long-time Derrylaughan Seperatist Movement (DSM) member, explains further:
“The Palestinian lads have shown us the path to independence. Derrylaughan has always been treated as the dregs of the county. I remember a Lord Mayor of Dungannon, when asked in the paper how he’d better the county, saying that he’d raise the levels of the Lough to wipe out Derrylaughan so he wouldn’t be ate by midges going to a game down there. Well, fcuk him I say. Them there midges are a part of us, a bit like the aborigines and their didgeridoos. Even the Brocagh ones talk with marbles in their gobs and look down on us as lowland munchies all because Tom McGurk is on the TV. Enough is enough. I wrote a letter to the UN and got a lock of lads in Falls’ pub to sign it. We’re going to call ourselves ‘The United Kingdom of The Lowlands Formerly Known As Derrylaughan (UKOTLFKAD)’. We’ll have our own money, passports and language an all. A brothel is only a matter of time.”
The UN refused to pass comment on the possibility of success but the Under-Secretary-General for Peacekeeping Hervé Ladsous did add “them boys have tried this before. Pat Kennedy filed for independence in 1981 after the county title, citing civil unrest with Derrytresk. We sent a 200-strong delegation only to discover it was a simple 2-man dispute over access to a rampart up near Kingsisland Church. It was a long drive from Brussels to listen to that.”
Corr has already devised a flag for UKOTLFKAD and an anthem called ‘They May Put Me In Prison, But They Can’t Stop My Face From Breakin’ Out’.
What’s On In Tyrone This Weekend – Nov 1st-2nd
COOKSTOWN
PARADE OF THE ELEPHANTS – Barney Eastwood and Jimmy Cricket lead the annual Parade of the Elephants at 10am Saturday morning. These fine creatures, 9 in total, live on the Tullhogue side of the town and are native to the area. They are a distant relative to the elephants you’d see in programmes about Africa and barely survived the hose pipe ban of 1995. Young children at risk from being excreted on so caution needs to be exercised.
COALISLAND/CLONOE LEAGUE FINAL
Edendork will witness the coming together of Coalisland and Clonoe people – a must-see event (Sat 2pm). The East Tyrone diaspora are a uniquely indigenous people, many of whom haven’t set foot out of a 15-mile radius of the area apart from going to Nutt’s Corner in the lead up to Christmas. Sit back and watch how they interact using one-syllable words. Witness their jeans and tucked-in jumpers – a real heart warmer. Observe how they manage to throw a pound into the turnstyle and get away with it by employing a pretend innocent ignorance that you had to pay in at all. Get there tomorrow before they start watching Friends and change.
OMAGH
Celebration of Polygamy. The marriage of one man and several women or one woman and several men, is prohibited in modern day Omagh, but only in the first weekend of December and must be terminated by St Stephen’s Day. The great Seamus McMahon, the oldest living functional man in Omagh, is said to have had 700 wives and 300 concubines. Sunday polygamy service starts at 4pm Sunday at Healy Park.
STRABANE
Baler Twine Belt Competition. Sunday 9am sees the inaugural baler twine belt event. Men and women will parade down the main street in their Sunday best with only baler twine holding up their modesty. Best twine judged by Hugo Duncan and Jimmy McGuinness.
First Obese Man In Gortin ‘Ashamed’. Pledges To ‘Cut Down’
With the recent news that sixty–four people in NI are currently claiming incapacity benefit because they are too obese to work, one man from Gortin has come forward to confirm that he, in fact, is one of the three from Tyrone included in the above investigation. Johnny Coyle, a 31-year old ex-timber merchant from the village, says obesity sort-of crept up on him out of nowhere and blames the foreigners for opening their delicious outlets in the greater Omagh area.
“Jaysus I’m tara embarrassed. I knew I’d put on a lock of pounds after everyone stopped buying timber from the yard in favour of them straw bales and I had to retire, but little did I know I’d actually ballooned to 31 stone from my fighting weight of 13 stone. I knew a couple of chairs had broken over the last year but I just put that down to shoddy workmanship in Fermanagh. The bed collapsing should have been a tell-tale sign. It wasn’t until I got stuck in the doorway of Mossey’s Bar back toilet that I couldn’t ignore the truth. I’d been eating too much. The government came around to weigh me and told me what I already knew. I’m the first obese person in Gortin. Stop eating or I won’t get a woman they said.”
Coyle has made it his goal to find out where the other two obese people in Tyrone are so he can set up an Eaters’ Anonymous Society. He also also promised to cut down on the Chineses, Indians, pic ‘n’ mix from Centra and the thrice daily fries.
“My runners have told me there may be a middle-aged woman in Brocagh and a young lad in Trillick around the same size as myself. I’d have to be sure though. You’d get some abuse if you asked the wrong person if they were obese. I’m just looking for moral support as we begin our descent towards an acceptable level of heaviness. It’s all about what you eat. A gradual change in lifestyle should do the trick. For breakfast, instead of the 5 bacon, 9 sausage, biscuits, gravy, cream hotcakes, dozens of scrambled and fried eggs and pounds upon pounds of melted cheese with ice cream on Fridays, cut out the ice cream on Fridays.”
The Gortin Pioneers’ Society released a statement saying they wholeheartedly supported Johnny but that you’d think he’d learn the lessons from his da who died after choking on a Frankfurter in 2001.




















