Category Archives: Pomeroy
Stewartstown Labourer Sacked For Having Fancy Sandwiches
Coyne felt alienated
An experienced labourer and expert hole-digger has expressed his disappointment after receiving his marching orders for continually bringing less traditional fillings for his lunch time sandwiches. Fergal Coyne, 44, claims his ability to think outside the box has cost him his job:
“I’ve been working on sites since I was 15 and recently got sick of eating corned beef and ham sandwiches day in-day out. We’re currently adding a beer garden to the back of the Credit Union and I thought I would spice up my lunch break by bringing in smoked salmon and egg mayo fillings for a granary breaded effort. Well, the looks I got when I explained what it was. One lad from Galbally said ‘your type is not wanted around here’ as he got tore into his apple and chocolate Club bar. I ignored him but then his mate came over and kicked the sandwich clean out of my hand.”
Undeterred, Coyne returned next morning with a mango and cashew filling but was met with an even frostier reception.
“I was digging a great hole and I spotted two boys from Pomeroy going through my stuff. By the time I went over they had smeared ‘stop being a bollocks’ on the gable wall with my filling. It was disheartening. I phoned the Builders’ Union that night to come in and observe the discrimination the next day”.
The Stewartstown Builders’ Union were on site in the morning and witnessed events first hand:
“Yes, we saw what the problem was. Fergal arrived this morning with pita bread filled with beef and vegetables. We were shocked and felt quite angry, almost aggressive, towards him. For decades we’ve been eating the traditional four ham sandwiches, tin of Fanta, apple, Club biscuit and maybe a banana. We’ve no time for this fancy dan American stuff. So we fecked him off the site and told him he’ll never get another job digging holes in Stewartstown again. We’ll also pay out compensation to the other workers for stress related illnesses.”
Coyne is considering moving to Donaghmore.
Crowd Of O’Neills Turned Away From Swedish Royal Wedding, Then Wreck The Place.
Should’ve happened in Dungannon
Approximately 300 O’Neills from all over Tyrone were impolitely refused entry to Princess Madeleine’s lavish wedding with New York banker Christopher O’Neill in Stockholm on Saturday. With numerous pleas from the leaders of the different local clans to Swedish police falling on deaf ears, the former powerful dynasty’s descendants drank the city dry before “completely wrecking half of Sweden” according to a British tabloid journalist. One of the O’Neills, Paddy ‘The Ram’, told us:
“It was some handlin. When we heard that boy O’Neill was marrying into the Swedish royal family, we decided to welcome her into the family by surprising King Carl XVI Gustaf and his clan by landing on his doorstep with gifts from Ireland. We brought over a leg of lamb, plum poteen, 3lb of ham, a box of Tayto, The Irish News from all of last week, a DVD of Diarmuid Corr’s Sketchy and a few other bits and bobs. Well, we mightn’t have bothered. Them Swedish police started batoning us outside the church. There was a whole flaying session for the guts of an hour, all caught on the international news channels. Not friendly at all. Should’ve been marrying in Dungannon anyway.”
Swedish officials say the O’Neills ‘just went buck mad’ and drank every bar dry in Stockholm before jumping through hedges, singing songs about Peter Canavan and lying on top of cars. Chief of Police Johanna Johannason admitted:
“Pure animals. What’s all this “yahooing” they do? It was like a scene out of Braveheart. One boy, Peter ‘The Mower’ O’Neill, cycled the whole way to Malmo, full. The bike was so mangled when he got there that locals thought it was a unicycle.”
Christopher O’Neill has since released a statement saying he is not one of the Tyrone O’Neills and is, in fact, London born and bred. Paddy the Ram refuses to buy into this theory:
“Who’s he trying to kid? He has that oul O’Neill head on him. Sort-of pointy at the top and square at the back. Listen, we’ll have him pinting in Mulligan’s before the year is out. The Swedish princesses will love Benburb, the Island, Tullyhogue and slapping the eel soup down them at the Battery. That was only Round 1. Fermanagh has the G8. We’ll have this shower.”
Tyrone Pensioner Biscuit Addiction On The Increase
Nightmare concoction in Tyrone
BY SHENGAS MCGLUMPHIE
The worrying problem of pensioner biscuit addiction worsened yesterday in the County when three octogenarians from Cappagh were arrested for manufacturing substitute custard creams and trying to sell them in the Pomeroy Diamond. It is believed that the pensioners were trying to make home-made biscuits using custard powder, milk and two small rectangular pieces of cardboard.
“The price of custard creams is now up to 75p for 400 grams, and that has created a thriving black market” said Chief Inspector John Quinn of the PSNI, which has set up a dedicated ‘Custard Cream Team’ to deal with the problem. “The addiction is a growing problem in Tyrone. Walk round Stewartstown on a Saturday morning and you can hardly move for the used teabags lying about. It’s disgusting. People are scared of going out of their house for fear of being accosted by a wrinkly pestering them for a ‘couple of biccies’. The street price for sandwich biscuits has gone crazy, with a single chocolate bourbon costing as much as 7 pence on some street corners in East Tyrone”.
Quinn also warned of a growing scam across the County, “where pensioners ask if they can ‘just pop in for a wee cup of tae in ma hand’ and as soon as the unwitting neighbour’s back is turned they’re getting tore into the biscuit box like a demon possessed”.
“I started experimenting with biscuits when I got into my 70s” said Kitty Clarke, a biscuit taker from Cabragh. “At first I just took them recreationally when I was down the Killeeshil Community Centre on a Wednesday morning at the sewing bee, maybe the odd fig roll or malted milk. But by the time I was 75 I was into the heavy stuff like chocolate bourbons, custard creams, even jammy dodgers. They say crystal meth rots your teeth? Try troughing your way through six packets if iced gems without so much as a cup of tea. I feel so ashamed. Last week I got into a fight with old Tommy Crawford from Castlecaulfield, because I had got hold of his ginger nuts and wouldn’t let go. We’re fine now, but only because he insisted I gave him a chocolate finger”.
In a desperate effort to curb the problem Dungannon Hospital has started administering substitute custard creams in the form of garibaldis and digestives. The hospital also has a detox programme, gradually weaning the pensioners onto hobnobs, to rich tea biscuits and finally onto a plain piece of Ryvita bread.
Readers affected by this article should contact any branch of Biscuits Anonymous.
Mixed Reaction In Tyrone To Eurovision Disaster
We were out and about this morning gauging early reactions to last night’s tragedy in Sweden:
“Who ever heard of Denmark, like? They can stick their tin whistle up their hole.” B McElduff, Carrickmore
“Them leather trousers lost it. The lad could hardly move. His lad could hardly move. He should’ve thrown some shapes.” M Gildernew, Aghaloo
“See next year. I’m going to enter and during the last bar I’ll turn around, drop my trousers and have ‘Up Yours Europe’ tattooed on my buttocks. That’ll learn them.” F McGuigan, Ardboe
“Trappatoni OUT!” P Canavan, Ballygawley
“I’ve more buckin points on my licence.” G Cavlan, Dungannon
“That girl didn’t even have any shoes and still won. Embarrassing. We need to send a tramp out next year.” P Donaghy, Moy
“Them boys with the bodhrans should’ve worn shirts. And not played bodhrans.” P Begley, Pomeroy
“One point from the UK? No more Mr Kipling for me.” M Cush, Donaghmore
“We’d still drink them under the table. But they won’t have a Eurovision for that, will they?” J Devlin, Gortin
“The lorry-top parade has been cancelled because of ….poor visibility. Yes, the weather is cat.” Strabane Council
“His teeth were too white. People didn’t believe he was Irish. And the tan? Come on, like.” M O’Neill, Clonoe
“We need to send out Bono, all greased up like, playing the accordion and maybe the girls from Betwitched leaping about him singing about the Sean Quinn thing.” R McMenamin, Dromore
TYRONE NEWS IN BRIEF
By Staff Reporter Shengas McGlumphie
Kildress baker shop to close
‘Claire’s Wee Scone Shop’ in Kildress is set to close after only 10 months in business. “I’m gutted, but I’ve run out of money” said Claire Rafferty, owner of the baker shop on the Drum Road. “I’ve been flat-out 6 days a week making cheesecakes, sponges, flapjacks and fruit scones and they’ve all shot off the shelves, but I’ve barely made a penny of profit. I’ve no idea what’s went wrong”. Kelly McNulty, Rafferty’s 28-stone shop assistant, agreed that she was “also puzzled”.
Clogher man on hold suspects his call isn’t important after all
Cathal Sheeran of Clogher, is thinking of hanging up the phone after having spent three days on hold to his bank. “I’ve now been on hold since Tuesday. I’m now unsure whether my call really is important to them. But then again, why would they keep telling me it is if it’s not?” said a bewildered Sheeran. “I might as well wait a wee while longer. To be honest, I’m only calling to thank them for sending through the offer on travel insurance”.
Dungannon Square to be re-named
Under new EU rules, Dungannon Square is to be re-classified as ‘Dungannon Trapezoid Rhombus’. Dungannon Councillor and part-time nutter Liam O’Donoghue said, “Well, it’s not an exact square is it? Not a right angle to be seen. Go on, measure it. We’d be a laughing stock if Brussels found out we’re calling it a Square. They’d think we’re all culchies. It’s not going to happen on my watch”. Residents in the Pomeroy Diamond are reported as being nervous.
340 lb Cabragh man didn’t go to doctor to get told to ‘lose some beef big man’.
32-stone Cabragh man Sidney Clarke was reported as being furious last night after having been told he was ‘like the side of a house’ by his local doctor. “I was expecting to get some dietary advice and a few exercise pamphlets all of which I could ignore, just like last time” said Clarke. “Instead, he told me in a very direct and uncompromising manner that I had to lose weight”. Dr Kevin McElhatton said afterwards, “Jaysus. The yoke looks like something out of ‘Lord of the Rings’. All that’s missing is the spear”. Clarke however was livid. “This is a personal affront to my dignity”, he said, before waddling off and stopping to wheeze against the side of a lamp post a few yards up the road.
Tattyreagh author publishes book
In an effort to capitalise on the recent success of the best-selling book ’50 Shades of Grey’, Tattyreagh’s very own Sarah Hagan today publishes her debut novel ‘7 Shades of Shite’. On sale in Costcutter’s, it is an autobiographical tale of Hagan’s own coming to terms with her errant and frequently-drunk husband Seamus, and how she experimented with the erotic and sado-masochistic side of their physical relationship by ‘battering lumps out of him with her ironing board’.
Pomeroy Village Council Launches Health Awareness Campaign About People’s Unmentionables
Pomeroy doctor raring to go
By Staff Reporter Shengas McGlumphie
Pomeroy Village Council today kicked off a health awareness campaign urging people to stop being embarrassed and to start some plain-talking about their unwhisperables.
“Let’s get to the point”, said Danny Devlin, chairperson of the PVC. “We need to adopt an adult and common sense approach when it comes to health. People in Pomeroy might not like our blunt approach in discussing people’s arses and the like but we’re tackling it head-on. Definitely”.
Asked whether the campaign related specifically to any of the common health threats to adults such as piles or varicose veins, Devlin retorted,
“We can do without the potty-mouth thank you. There’s no place for smut in this campaign. Just honest, clear, unambiguous language about people’s bottom halves. People from the Rock are mad into talking about this stuff”.
However, some of the Council members are privately squeamish about the campaign. One who asked not to be named admitted:
“It’s tara. I mentioned it to someone at mass in Altmore on Sunday and he told me about a problem he’s got with his yoke. Jaysus, I nearly brought the breakfast up all over my trousers. I still feel the bad taste coming on just thinking about it. Does he expect me to be interested just because I’m a doctor?”
Launched with the slogan, ‘Is Everything Quare Down There?’ the campaign says that if people have any problems with their etceteras they should be open and talk to someone, as long as it isn’t anyone in the Council.
“There’s no point skirting round the issue. If someone has a problem with that there stuff down there, we need to discuss it graphically and openly. It’s the only way”, said Devlin, before hurrying off and vomiting into a ditch.
Kildress Woman Told To Leave The Area For Using Big Words. “That’ll Learn Her”.
McNally stood out
By Gombeen
A returning Kildress student was banished from the mid-Ulster townland after using a succession of big words over two nights during Easter celebrations in the Kildress Inn. Gretta McNally has spoken of her disillusionment at having been rejected by her people despite achieving a 2:2 in her Arts Photography degree at the University of Ulster in Coleraine.
“Typical Kildress. As soon as you step outside the norm you’re there to be shot at. When I did well in my A Levels I had hordes of well-wishers back-slapping me off to university. The local club even ran a fundraiser. Deep down I suspected they thought I’d come back with my tail between my legs, drunk out and expelled from the University within a month. Well, I stuck at it, got my degree and now I’m homeless because of it. As soon as I got off the bus last week I was met with a torrent of sly digs. I asked for a pint of lager and the barman said under his breath ‘I’m surprised it’s not a Martini on the rocks’ and gave me a dirty look. That was the start of it.”
A different story emerged when we spoke to local boiler servicer Lionel McClean.
“That blade got what she deserved. She swanned into the Arms with her fancy thoughts and degrees and all that. When I heard her say she liked the ‘interior design’ of the pub, well, that was enough for me. What’s wrong with the word ‘inside’? The next night she said ‘when is the Tones’ initial match?’. Initial? Initial? Spit the buckin marbles out girl. We’re not impressed. So we went down to her da’s house and told him she must leave or we’d burn them out. He agreed and said he himself couldn’t stick her saying the dinner was ‘splendid’. That’ll learn her and any other youngster who has fancy-dan thoughts of education.”
Gretta is currently wandering the hills around Pomeroy and has vowed to work on toning down her vocabulary so she can return for Christmas.
Tyrone Children To Be Disappointed At Easter. Parents ‘Finding It Tight’.
Typical Tyrone child, Easter morning, 8am
By Gombeen
A plethora of fathers and the odd mother let rip in Quinn’ Corner last night, intimating that thousands of Tyrone children will wake up on Easter Sunday without the chocolatey surprises they took for granted waiting on them. In what initially appeared to be a series of drunken rants, children are now fearing the worst and are stocking up on Wispas and Yorkies with the intention of melting them into a roundish shape and covering it with tinfoil, in the hope of replicating the same pleasure from tearing into one hollow chocolate egg after another before vomiting. This morning, an unrepentant Ballygawley father, Iggy Kelly, refused to back down:
“I got 900 litres of oil delivered yesterday. It was nearly a pound a litre. If them weans think I’ve the money to be going out buying a dozen KitKat eggs the size of their own heads then they’re in for a mighty surprise. It’s time to end the madness. Last year the missus bought 88 Easter eggs ‘just in case’ and us with just the three children. The floors, walls, ceiling and furniture was covered in the stuff on the Monday morning and there were 80 of the bastards still left. Listen, in my day my oul fella threw us a boiled egg and a piece of blue rope and we were ecstatic. These children today expect 20 Easter eggs minimum, eat two and tramp the rest of them into the carpet. Like, did Jesus say anything about eggs?”
The local Spar reacted to the overnight developments by reducing the price of a Malteser Egg to 50p or 99p for 2 in the hope that they can counteract the sweeping movement initiated last night. Kelly was unimpressed:
“That’s another scam. These shops think we’re stupid like. When you walk in there are a pile of things with a gigantic £1 written on it, convincing you you’re getting a bargain. I saw three women in the space of 10 seconds buy a small packet of Hula Hoops for a pound, just because of the size of the sticker. Sure they’re 60p normally. I even bought one. It’s like hypnosis. Fair enough, I might buy a few of those 99p for 2 egg offers as it’s too good to miss but I’ll be putting them straight in the bin. There’s a logic in there somewhere. We cannot afford this.”
The Donaghmore Parents’ Society released a statement this morning reminding people that there are no such money worries where they come from and that they’ll be setting up an ‘egg kitchen’ to feed disappointed children from Pomeroy, Rock and Carrickmore.
Pomeroy Council Considered Cannibalistic Contingency Plans Due To Heavy Snow
Sliding down a mountain in Pomeroy
A leaked document this morning has indicated that the Pomeroy Village Council (PVC) met up on Sunday morning to draw up armageddon proposals if the snow didn’t thaw any time soon. With all roads leading out of the quiet townland looking increasingly impassable due to the heavy drifting, the secret council met up after Mass and laid down a two-point plan in case of a worst-case scenario. They were as follows:
1. If the roads become totally impassable for more than 24 hours, a time capsule is to be filled with remnants of what life was like in Pomeroy in 2013. Suggested contents included an xbox, a Dandy yoyo, Pomeroy GAA togs, a bit of the mountain, a Wispa, a piece of hair, the Irish News and Philomena Begley.
2. The human race to be kept going as long as possible. This might necessitate eating each other. Everyone over the age of 18 is to write an essay on why they think they should not be eaten. The authors of the worst essays as judged by the council will be slaughtered and fed to the youngsters and babies as they have longer to live and might survive long enough for it to thaw. The council members will only be considered for consumption when everyone else over 18 has been eaten.
The PVC were quick to play down the meeting and its contents today. Danny Devlin, chairperson, stated:
“Ah we got a bit carried away on Sunday morning. The snow flakes were deadly and cars were queued from the bottom of Pomeroy Street to the Bawn Orange Hall. I admit we panicked. I would like to assure the people of Pomeroy that no one will be eaten. All roads seem to be open. In fact none were closed at any stage really. We’ve made a hames of this. Sorry.”
Calls for the PVC to resign en masse have fallen on deaf ears. Devlin laughed when it was put to him and muttered “I’d like to see them try make us” whilst menacingly reaching into his coat pocket and winking.
Galbally’s ‘The Three Plunketts’ Still Short Of Material For Show At Cohannon Inn
Galbally’s next big thing
By Staff Reporter Shengas McGlumphie
Three Galbally men who will debut their three-man comedy show this Friday at the Cohannon Inn admit that with only days to go they have virtually no material to fill the ambitious two and a half hour slot. Plunkett Drummond, Plunkett Quinn and Plunkett Keown, all born in 1986 when Plunkett Donaghy’s dreamy locks was breaking housewives’ hearts in the All-Ireland, booked the gig after deciding their witty banter deserved a bigger audience.
“Us three boys were always having mad craic down the pub and we thought, Jaysus, people would pay big money to listen to this” said Plunkett Drummond from Corlea Road. “Even last Friday night we were out at Nugent’s in Pomeroy, and the craic was ninety. But no-one bothered to write any of it down and the next morning I couldn’t remember a thing. We thought we could really go all the way to the top, maybe even as far as the Community Centre in Galbally. Just look at other successful threesomes, the likes of The Three Stooges or the Three Degrees or the Two Ronnies. Big comedy trio acts raking in a whole lock of pounds.”
However, the group are struggling to re-create the magic by transferring the hilarious pub banter into a tightly-constructed, joke-packed, fun-filled, 2½ hour set.
“We did take a pencil and start scribbling notes on the back of the Auto Trader”, said Plunkett Keown, an unemployed fitter, “but we were laughing so much the writing ended up all shoogly and couldn’t really make it out the next day. The only words I could read were ‘Holland tractor’, ‘mushroom’, and ‘trousers’ and we can hardly squeeze 2½ hours out of that”.
In growing concern that they will not have sufficient material in time for the show, the three men have tried gathering at lunchtime without alcohol to see if they can produce any gems.
“It was rubbish. All we talked about was the new roadworks near the Rock. We’ve even watched Riverdance on Plunket’s VHS with Flatley doing all the high kicks for a bit of inspiration. That might be an option”, muttered Plunkett Drummond doubtfully.
The group now plan to extend the show to include traditional song, with Plunkett Keown singing ‘The Mountains Of Pomeroy’ accompanied by Drummond on the tin whistle. So far, the threesome have a story about a wasp landing on Plunkett Keown’s cheese and pickle sandwich during the Thrills in the Hills in Pomeroy last summer, and an anecdote involving a beer mat sticking to the bottom of Quinn’s pint glass. To date no tickets have been sold, but Plunkett Drummond remains hopeful.
“Tonight’s a last ditch all-out effort. We’re going to Tally’s to get properly hammered, but this time we’ll get the boyo on the next table to listen in and take notes. As long as we remember to ask him”.
Omagh Journalist Hires Personal Security After Goading Utd Fans
Outside Omagh offices this morning
In a bizarre development, roving journalist Roger McGuinness was seen walking into his Omagh offices this morning surrounded by a bevy of American-style security men in sunglasses talking down into their wrists. In what he is now calling ‘a severe backlash’, McGuinness took to social networking last night to wind up as many Manchester United fans humanly possible within an hour of the English soccer club’s demise in a top European competition. Misjudging the chronic disappointment of their fans, the freelance hack received a torrent of abuse initially before things took a turn for the worse overnight.
“Jaysus boys it’s tarra. I was only having a laugh like – the sort of barstool slagging you’d dish out in Sally’s or Tessie’s. I didn’t realise how serious these boys took it all. At the start it was just the odd gentle bad-tempered reply. Soon it got personal. I was up at three o’clock this morning hosing down grown men who were dancing on top of my motor shouting “Twelve Cantonas” or something like that whilst giving me the fingers. I never slept a wink.”
McGuinness immediately contacted Fermanagh novelist Damien Brogg who suffered the same fate after claiming in his highly-acclaimed book that Donegal smelt of vomit most of the time.
“I knew Brogg had been through this too. I remember he said men from Donegal would just stare through the kitchen window of his house in Fermanagh at night for six months after the book launch, as a form of silent psychological intimidation. He put me onto these six boys from New York who used to look after Tom McDermott from Greencastle after he came out of the Big Brother house. So far so good. They’ve managed to stretch out three United fans who went for me in the Centra this morning. I’ll not be letting my guard down yet and ironically saw a martial-arts course flyer in Pomeroy this morning. I’ll be fly-kicking these boys soon myself.”
McGuinness says his slagging days are well and truly behind him though he claims he might have one more shot at Liverpool supporters before the season finishes.
Pomeroy Family To Quit The Village. Row Over 11+ Money.
Grimes, last night.
The family of Gregory Grimes, the first boy to achieve an A in the 11+ in Pomeroy since 1986, have said they’ll be gone from the village by the weekend and hope never to set foot amongst the “tightest shower in Ireland”. The remarkable turnaround by the Grimes’ seemingly surrounds the level of generosity in the village after young Gregory travelled from door to door last Saturday morning to inform the locals of his top grade in the ‘qualifying’ tests. Gregory’s father Kieran, a former A grade student himself and current Pomeroy tourism officer, claims they’ll never return to Pomeroy whilst there’s a breath left in his body:
“I loved Pomeroy. The mountains, the Diamond, Philomena Begley. We had it all. Well, all that’s wiped from my memory ever since young Greg, the first A in Pomeroy in 27 years, returned on his travels last Saturday with £3.56 in his pocket after telling his good news to 36 houses around the centre of the village. Three buckin fifty buckin six buckin pounds. Themuns couldn’t be happy for ye. The Kavanaghs down the road actually tapped him up for money for to pay the electricity meter. Paddy Devlin, and him a doctor too, gave him 11p after fumbling around in his suit jacket for fifteen minutes. The headmaster himself didn’t even open the door even though I could see him duking from the kitchen window and him boasting about our lad’s result at the shop this morning thinking he’s King Dick. What a begrudging, tight-fisted shower of glipes. Young Gregory, God bless him, was happy with the money and went out and bought a bottle of Lucozade and a giant Snickers. I’m not hanging around to count the pennies after his Confirmation. They can go and shite.”
No one from Pomeroy was prepared to officially comment on the Grimes’ plans to move off but the headmaster was reported to have said the following, on hearing about the A grade the previous night in the pub from the school secretary: “that wee Grimes lad needs taking down a peg or two. Who does he think he is? You’ll get nowhere reading books and spelling things correctly. He’ll be thinking he’s all it. We don’t need that sort in Pomeroy.”
The Grimes family are due to settle in Carrickmore.
Donaghmore Parents In Hiding After Son Expresses Ambitions To The Master
Donaghmore sewage treatment in progress
A once-respected Donaghmore family are refusing to engage in daily pleasantries in the village after their four-year-old son told his teacher about his future plans concerning employment and family. Toby Gallagher, who will be starting Donaghmore P.S. in September, was attending an induction day at the school when the Headmaster lined all the children up to ask them what they wanted to be when they grew up. Donaghmore, with its affluence and tendency to attract former landlords or those with aristocratic ancestors, appeared to have its fair quota of potential doctors, solicitors, barristers and lawyers which seemed to please the Master greatly. Little Toby Gallagher was last in line. Mr Toner, the P2 teacher, takes up the story:
“The silence was deafening. The Master had received twenty-five favourable answers to the question (one said he wished to be an accountant but he let that go) – probably the most promising batch we’d received in my time here – and with young Gallagher left it was looking like a clean-sweep. All heads turned to the lad as he jumped up onto the Master’s knee. Well, his answer will stay with us for a long time. He looked the Master in the eye and said, “I want to be the boy who sucks the shite clean out of the septic tank”. Well, you could’ve heard the thud from the mother hitting the ground. There was a muffled laugh from a couple of the P7s knocking about. It’s hard to see young Gallagher getting a place now. He said he wanted a husband too.”
It appears that the Gallaghers had been paid a visit the previous day by the man who normally does that job and young Gallagher was awestruck at the operation. Toby’s father, Paddy Gallagher OBE, attempted to salvage some respectability from the occasion by intimating that his young son was a great comedian but few appear to have accepted that explanation. The family are now considering moving to Pomeroy.
Rock Rampart Riot Over Whether Mrs Brown’s Boys Was Funny.
The Rock, yesterday
The sleepy Tyrone village of the Rock was plunged into mayhem last night when rival gangs from Pomeroy and Cookstown clashed on a rampart just off the Rockdale Road.
Cudgels, shillelaghs and wet sods of turf were said to have been employed to settle a long-standing argument over the comical merit of the award-winning sitcom Mrs Brown’s Boys.
With Pomeroy fiercely in the no-camp, they faced stiff opposition from Cookstown locals who have recently started up a Mrs Brown Appreciation Society. Some were said to have attended the pre-arranged brawl dressed in the same garb as Mrs Brown herself. Eye-witness reports state that the Pomeroy nay-sayers came out slightly on top but that analysis is sternly denied by Cookstown Mrs Brown Society chairperson Jay Sheehy:
“1-0 til us I thought. Mrs Brown is the best comedy since Jasper Carrot. Them Pomeroy ones are so serious. Like, when was the last time you went there to see a pantomime? Their local primary school did a version of Schindler’s List for Christmas. Like for Jaysus sake. There were parents throwing up. This fighting has to stop and that will only be achieved when they lighten up a bit.”
The Pomeroy squad remained unrepentant:
“We fairly laid into them, boys,” claimed Fran Grimes. “I’ve seen funnier month’s minds that that shower of shite they call Mrs Brown’ Boys. I’m ashamed to be Irish so I am. It’s nearly worse than The Hole in the Wall Gang. Nearly. Seriously like, it’s Fr Ted in drag. Pre-historic lump of dung: Man with dress says ‘feck’; Drunken audience piss themselves laughing; repeat for half an hour. A friend of mine started to watch it, regretted it, couldn’t find the remote so attempted to burn his own house down. This is only the beginning too. The Glenavon and Greenvale are going to cut up rough this weekend over it. And that’s not a real audience I think. Just a pile of turkeys or something. “
Although the PSNI were aware of the arranged brawl, the decided to let the fight go ahead for ‘a bit of craic in the Rock’.
Cookstown Credit Union Workers Are County’s Heaviest Party-Goers
Cookstown CU in the Greenvale at the weekend
A recent survey carried out by the Matt Talbot Research Centre in Omagh has discovered that the staff at the Cookstown CU are the most likely workforce in the county to get completely blattered every weekend and every other day during the week. The infamous Strabane Bikers – ‘The Pissed Off Bastards of Bridge Street’ – are the most teetotal grouping, closely followed by the ‘Eskra Eucharistic Ministry Society’.
The news that the Credit Union in Cookstown came out top in the survey came as no surprise to customers who commented on the outlet’s reluctance to give out any loans at all on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays due to severe hangovers.
“Ah sure I’m not surprised one bit,” Seamie Sheehey told us. “Everyone knows that you haven’t a hope in hell of getting even a tenner on a Wednesday. They’d be awkward and call your bluff. You’d be asking for a lock of pound to ‘do the kitchen’ and they’d be saying ‘sure I was in your kitchen last week and there’s nothing wrong with it’. Yet on Thursday they’ll hand out a grand even if you only needed a ton to pay the parking fines. It’s a lottery, especially if they’ve been on two day benders. My mother asked for £2000 for a holiday in Portygal and even though she had £1500 savings in it, they told her it’d be more in her line to go to mass more often than to be galavanting around Faro.”
In second place were the clergy in Pomeroy who consume more wine in a year than the whole Basque region in northern Spain.
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.
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’.
Pomeroy Man Gets Colonic Irrigation By Mistake – Didn’t Like It
Pomeroy professional funeral-wailer Denver Douglas has managed to get his life back to some semblance of normality after a terrible mix-up with his GP led to a rectum-cleaning marathon for the 66-year old. In what turned out to be a comedic/almost tragic turn of events, Douglas ended up in the clinic bent over after a short conversation about what he believed to be personal farming problems with Dr Devlin, the local GP since 1944.
“I was saying to the doctor that I was having cramps because the crop of strawberries was terrible this year. That bollox Devlin recommended irrigation and I thought he was talking about field drainage. Little did I know he was thinking of my bowels and sticking a hose up me to clane her out. I said I’d be on for that alright and he told me to call around tomorrow to the clinic for a chat about it.”
The room where the cleansing was performed
Things got out of hand when Dr Devlin ran at Douglas when he came in with a tranquilizing needle to sedate him in case he backed down.
“I thought I was there to see plans for a new drainage system. The next thing I knew I was bent over the desk with Devlin shoving a 20-inch garden hose up my passage and told the nurse to turn her up to the hilt. I was too far gone with the injection to resist. I didn’t like it. I was like that for 2 hours, dignity gone completely like. That nurse would be a niece of mine and she didn’t need to see that side of me.”
Despite the trauma, Douglas says he’s never felt better and apologises to Dr Devlin for shattering his left jaw in three pieces when he came round. He has promised to wail loudly at Devlin’s funeral, free of charge.
Tyrone Tribulations 