Old Railway Line From Cookstown To Dungannon To Become A Massive Ghost Train Ride
How it might look
The old railway line between Cookstown and Dungannon, visiting Stewartstown and Coalisland, may be getting touched up under ambitious plans by the council to create a ‘deadly long ghost train ride’ for bored children and stressed parents. The railway line, last used in the late 50s, has been declared ‘probably near enough intact’ and only requires a bit of hammering here and there as well as hedge cutting and a couple of buildings knocked down.
Madcap optimist Concubar Corr is certain he can pull this off:
“I’m never done hearing about unruly children terrorising East Tyrone by gathering in corners and sniggering whilst parents are out of their wits worried about their social development. Then one day I was hoking around a ditch in Tullyhogue and spotted the disused railway line. The idea hit me straight away – I can use this to solve all our delinquency problems. I can build a ghost train stretching 10 miles and taking 2 hours to complete. 4 hours if you go back the same way.”
Corr has set out the fearsome sights the train passengers will encounter on the journey. They include:
- Boys in Stewartstown jumping out from behind hedges shouting ‘yahoooooo’ and other frightful sounds.
- At Lisnastraine have TV licence men stand about staring at parents on the train or dole officers pretending to take notes.
- In Coalisland there’ll be women striking sliotars at the passengers
- The whole way have planted workers secretly making “wooooooooo” noises every 2-3 minutes
“I understand we need to ask a few householders to knock down internal walls so that the train can follow its original route but we’ll look for compensation for them like 3 free rides or something. Sure won’t it be great craic seeing a train pass through your living room whilst watching The One Show. I already have 41 bookings even though we haven’t checked if the line is still there. I’ve only checked from Cookstown to Sandholes, about 1 mile.”
Rides will cost £20 per child or £100 for a family ticket.
Derrytresk To Host Its First Orange March
In what has been described as a historic gesture that’ll reverberate across the globe, Derrytresk are to host a 12th of July parade for the brethren up at Tamnamore. The controversial decision has been roundly applauded with a couple of high profile republican and unionist ministers declaring that they’ll think about going if there’s nothing else on.
The march’s chief organiser, Sadie McClure, outlined the schedule:
“The band and its supporters will arrive at about 11. We’ve commissioned a few desks from Kingsisland School and a couple of women say they’ll prepare a pile of mineral, maybe 10 jugs of diluted juice, and we’ll have the mineral sitting on the desks at the electric pole outside the pitch. I’m making cheese sandwiches and the barman says he’ll throw up a couple of packets of Bacon Fries.”
The route itself is slightly less straight forward according to McClure:
“It’s a wee bit tricky. They’ll be marching mostly across barren ramparts the whole way to Drumurrer, negotiating a few hateful ditches that have claimed small dogs in the past. We’ve asked Johnny Hagan to tie up his buck goat for that one day. It roams the moss along with Tomney’s bull. It can’t be tied so we’d be hoping the lambeg drummer will give it a few skites if it runs for them. It should be ok.”
The PSNI have revealed they will not be patrolling the march as there’s nowhere to stand and no jeeps can access the route anyway.
Tamnamore have said they’ll return the favour next Easter Sunday with the Derrytresk Ceile Band allowed to parade around their roundabout about 20 times hassle free.
“White-Van Men” – The Sexiest In Tyrone
Dromore van man earlier
A door-to-door survey has revealed that white-van men make Tyrone women go weak at the knees, surpassing firemen for the first time in 150 years. An emphatic 99% of women from as far apart as Castlederg and Moortown say that the sight of a man in a white van makes their jaw drop and brightens up their day no end. A further 88% say the dirtier the van the better.
Julie Tierney, a musician from the Moy, explained:
“Ah Jaysus don’t talk. About 25 years ago my boiler was being served by what could only be described as the ugliest man I’d ever set eyes on. He had a big bushy moustache that seemed to hold the contents of his last week’s meals in it. He was about 22 stone yet only 5 feet tall. It was a shocking experience. However, as he left I saw him climb into this Ford Transit van that was covered in dung from top to bottom. But you could tell it was a white van. I immediately fell in love with this man and we’ve been married 24 years now and have 9 middlin looking children.”
The survey also specified that the dirtier the man and van the better. Julie shouted:
“Yes, we don’t really fall for the men in suits delivering Asda stuff or Powerscreen men and the like. It’s the plumbers, plasterers, joiners, sparks and general hands-on men with spanners in their back pockets, filthy nails and knee-torn jeans that are hanging off them that turn us weak at the knees. Jaysus I’m getting all bothered here thinking about them.”
The Greenvale in Cookstown has seen a rise in men turning up for the discos in white vans since the findings of the survey were published. Chief fireman Pat Mangan claims it’s only a flash in the pan:
“Bastards. Them and their oul white rust buckets. We’ll up our game in the morning. Women can’t resist the sight of a man wrestling with a hose. Cats will be washed down from trees in future.”
Loughmacrory Man Still Traumatised After Landing Jumbo Jet On Playstation
Loughmacrory earlier
BY SHENGAS MCGLUMPHIE
A man is still recovering from the trauma of having successfully landed a jumbo jet on his son’s Playstation.
Felix McVeigh, 38, an unemployed light bulb installer from Loughmacrory, took over the controls in an emergency with virtually no previous experience, after his 10 year old son Kieran vomited his lunch all over his legs whilst playing the game.
“I acted on instinct”, admitted the modest father. “I grabbed the joystick and immediately engaged the autopilot, checking that the flight coordinates correlated to the airport bearing. Jaysus, it wasn’t easy. My eyes were waterin’ from the stench of puke. I quickly fecked Kieran up to the bathroom and told him to get changed. I took a deep breath, and sat down to the challenge of my life. Landing the biggest passenger plane in the world”.
The game, ‘Wingthrust Simulator Extreme’, was given to young Kieran for his birthday in March. A Playstation 4 multi-platform game, it allows the player to fly the simulator controls of the massive twin-level Airbus A380 aircraft, taking off at a factually accurate San Francisco Airport and landing at an equally realistic London Heathrow.
“The psychological pressure of landing this computer-generated monster was huge”, said McVeigh. “It was all I could do to hold my nerve. At one stage I got so nervous the bowl of Doritos nearly fell off my lap. But by the time I was 6 virtual miles away and I pressed Button 2 to lower the landing gear, I knew there was no going back”.
McVeigh re-lived the final few moments before the successful landing, saying that he struggled in particular with modulating the auto-throttle to reduce height and speed, engaging the omni-bearing selector to the correct runway heading, and trying to Sky Plus ‘Cash In The Attic’ before it started.
However, since the incident McVeigh has suffered from sleepless nights, and believes he may be suffering from PTSD, post traumatic stress disorder.
“There were 540 virtual passengers depending on me. Their lives were in my hands. You can’t comprehend that sort of mental pressure. And I’m not after recognition or anything like that, but to be honest the response from the Loughmacrory community has been cat. Andrea Begley gets a hero’s welcome and a camera crew just for singing some songs. What do I get for saving the lives of hundreds of passengers? Feck all. Fair enough, the passengers didn’t actually exist, but that’s not the point, is it? What if they had, eh? Exactly”.
McVeigh compared his feat to that of US pilot Chesley Sullenberger, who was given the Freedom of New York City after safely landing an Airbus A320 on the River Hudson in 2009 after a flock of geese flew into its engines.
“Sullenberger did okay but in a way my job was even more difficult. He didn’t have to deal with his wife phoning half-way through the final approach asking what the feck he was doing sitting on his arse all day doing nothing and suchlike”.
McVeigh has made a request via the local Council to be given the ‘Freedom of Loughmacrory’, which entitles the holder to ridicule a shire horse in Welsh on a Tuesday.
Cookstown Writer ‘Certain’ That Next James Bond Movie Will Be Filmed In Tyrone
Bond for Cookstown?
BY SHENGAS MCGLUMPHIE
A self-styled scriptwriter from Tyrone has confirmed that he has received an ‘almost definite yes’ from Hollywood that the next James Bond film will be based in and around Tyrone.
“I finished the script last week and sent if off”, declared a proud Daragh McGee, from Cookstown. “And I’ve had a letter back thanking me for it. It’s a done deal as far as I’m concerned. Bond is coming to Tyrone!” He went on, “See, lots of ‘Skyfall’ got filmed in London, so we’ll do the same in Tyrone. We’ll showcase the county. Imagine doing some of it in Greencastle. That’d be deadly. And they can use special effects to get rid of all the weird-looking ones in the final cut. Some boost for the area and the revenue could be spent on free drink or something for the locals”.
McGee was coy about revealing too much of the story, and then promptly told us the entire plot.
“Bond becomes embroiled in this conspiracy all about dirty diesel. He flies helicopters, shoots stuff, kills people, and gives a few deadly-lookin’ wemin plenty of hammer along the way”, said the writer. He admitted, “It might need a bit more work but them Hollywood boys can sort it out. I’ve done the hard bit. And the movie ends in this lethal fight to the death between Bond and the villain in the middle of Ballygawley roundabout with lorries and tractors whizzin’ by. Imagine that. Class”.
McGee as yet is undecided on a title but says he is toying with the idea of ‘From Cappagh with Love’, or ‘Quantum of Diffing’.
The Cookstown man has always had a deep fondness for the Bond movies.
“Nobody knows the James Bond films like me”, he asserted. “I know them inside out and back to front. As the current Bond, I’d say Pierce Brosnan is definitely the best. He was deadly in ‘The Spies Who Loved Them’. Some film”.
The scriptwriter confirmed that he has already commenced auditioning for the part of the beautiful Bond girl, and also for other parts.
“For the evil villain I wanted someone that looks tara scary and grotesque, like Gollum out of ‘Lord of The Rings’ only worser and uglier. I auditioned down in Mountfield last Friday night and there was that many I was fighting them off with a stick. I’m not even sure some of them were there for the evil villain audition. They were just hanging around. At least we’d save on the prosthetic make-up”. McGee went on to add, “Come to think of it, some of the wemin who turned up for the Bond girl could probably have auditioned for it”.
McGee concluded, “Thon Alfred Hitchcock was some boy to have written all those James Bond books. I hope to be able to tell him that in person if he comes over for the filming and stuff. He can stay at my aunt’s in Donaghmore. She’s got a spare settee and sleeping bag”.
Tyrone ‘School Of Plastering’ Opens In Kildress To Improve Spreading Standards
A finished job in Cappagh
In order to combat the sharp decline in plastering skills in the county, the Tyrone County Council have opened a School of Plastering in Kildress which will teach youngsters who aspire to be plasterers the basic skills in the trade. The move comes after a series of street protests all over the county complaining about the cowboy spreading jobs being carried out in most new developments.
Peter Carney, a plasterer from Clonoe with 44 years experience, fully supports the new school:
“It has been a long time coming. I stopped taking on apprentices after a series of unbelievable mishaps last year. I took on a team of young lads from Brocagh and Derrylaughan for a big job in the Moy. Never again. I told one of them to scratch a wall for me. I came back an hour later and he was literally scratching a wall with his fingernails the way you’d scratch a cat. The poor fellow’s fingers were dripping with blood. Another boy was using the bible as a straight edge.”
Jack Kelly (61) from Galbally added:
“I took a nephew from Greencastle on last month. He arrived with what he thought were the tools needed. He brought a rubber duck (plastic float), a pet budgie (hawk) and a towel (trowel). And his da’s a spark too. I told him to go out and get a scratching tool and he came with nothing but a worried face and said ‘sure I can scratch ye’. I’d have been better off taking my ma with me and she’s 97 and deaf but a damn decent spread.”
So far 300 have signed up for the Plastering Summer School with the first week’s topic “How To Use A Darby” already in progress. Mary Farrell, a mother to 7 teenage sons, says all her lads will be attending:
“It was either that of the Gaeltacht. There’ll be plenty of time for curtin’ when they’re older so it’s off to the spreading school for them. There’ll be no curtin’ there hopefully.”
A place on the Spreading Degree course costs £300 and runs for 6 weeks.
Killyman Man Laments Loss of ‘Good Old-Fashioned Prejudice’ During Visit To London
A thing of the past?
A man returning from a holiday in London is thinking about complaining to the Lord Mayor’s office after having been treated with courtesy and friendliness throughout the visit.
63 year old Patrick Dunn from Killyman worked in Cricklewood in the 1970s as a bricklayer and labourer, and expected a very different type of reception from the one he received when he went for a month’s holiday in May to visit some of his old haunts in north west London.
“Thon feckers couldn’t have been nicer”, complained Dunn. “What’s that all about? I remember the times when the Irish were treated as proper outcasts. I was fully expecting some old-fashioned discrimination so that I could go into O’Donnell’s Bar in Kilburn and moan about it. I couldn’t, could I? Everyone was lovely. And also because they’ve turned it into a delicatessen”.
In an effort to experience more traditional discrimination, Dunn met up with a West Indian friend of his and after finding a stray collie dog went to look for bed and breakfast accommodation, expecting to be given his marching orders very quickly.
“Jaysus, did the first door we knock on not offer us 50% off for 3 nights and that the dog would be most welcome”, said a disappointed Dunn. “What’s the world coming to? They were so lovely I ended up staying for a week. Evil hoors. They were even calling me ‘Mister Dunn’. Mister Dunn? I thought they were takin’ the haun out of me, but then they said they they didn’t want to call me Paddy for fear of offending me. And Paddy’s my bloody name. What about my rights? Where’s all the old-fashioned intolerance, eh? I was even getting offers of work without so much as asking for it. I’m a brickie by trade. I build walls. But I got offered full-time work as a plumber, a vet, a systems analyst, and a Boeing 747 pilot. I couldn’t believe it. What’s the world coming to? It was a nightmare. Especially the jet lag after flying jumbos all day”.
“I don’t know. They bloody love the Irish over there”, lamented Dunn. “I won’t be going back”.
County Tyrone’s Top-Ranked Tennis Player Gutted About Not Making It To Final Rounds
Tyrone’s no.1
BY SHENGAS MCGLUMPHIE
County Tyrone’s highest-ranked tennis player, Connor Muldoon from Dregish, has once again failed to make it to the final stages of Wimbledon.
Whilst official world rankings only include the top 1,000 players, it is believed that Muldoon, whilst number 1 in Tyrone, ranks approximately 6-millionth in the world. He tried to enter this year’s Wimbledon tournament on the wild card entry system, but was rejected on the grounds of not having the necessary funds to travel to London, lack of an authenticated playing record, and for not having a tennis racquet.
“I’m devastated”, said the forlorn player. “I really thought that this was going to be my year. With Roger Federal and the other one already knocked out, I could have gone all the way. If I had just got in in the first place”.
Muldoon was originally tipped to win the tournament by bookies in Omagh as somewhat of an outsider at odds of 10,000,000 to 1.
“That proves my point, see?” said Muldoon. “A 1 in 10 million chance. That means even the bookies think I’ve got a chance. And they haven’t even seen me play. I’m deadly. And thon strawberries and cream are quare. I’d be horsin’ them into them by the punnet. I’d fit right in. And I reckon I could take thon Venus brothers on and give them a right going over”.
Muldoon had plenty of advice to offer the current contenders.
“I’ve been watching the technique of thon Scotch boy Andy Murdoch, and he’s vulnerable”, he said. “When he hits the ball with the bat thing he’s not hitting it hard enough. He should hit it harder. I can hit the ball really hard. They’re my favourites. Bang! Like that. Mighty. And he needs to work on his tantrums. They’re not tantrums. I’ll show him tantrums. If thon referee called one of my hits out I’d drag him off his big ladder and cut the lining out of him. I’d stick that Hawkeye yolk right up his arse. That’d learn him”.
“I’m definitely going to win Wimbledon next year”, said a determined Muldoon. “Once I learn the rules there’ll be no stopping me”.
Tyrone News In Brief – July 2013 – O’Driscoll/Snowden/Pomeroy
O’DRISCOLL AND MULLIGAN DROWN SORROWS TOGETHER
Brian – not in deadly form
It emerged this morning that Brian O’Driscoll immediately Skyped Owen Mulligan in Cookstown after hearing he had been dropped from the Lions side to face Australia in the final test. Needing to find comfort in the aftermath of his devastating news, O’Driscoll quickly contacted Mulligan over the Internet and they reportedly drank the night away sharing stories of heartbreak before breaking into a few songs. A source close to Mulligan told us:
“Jaysus Mugsy had some head on him this morning. Apparently they both ran out of liquor at about 3am our time so O’Driscoll told him to drink some oul water that Owen had been cleaning his paint brushes in whilst the Dub quaffed fermented coconut milk. I could hear the whole thing. They were crying at one stage, calling their managers all the names of the day before I heard O’Driscoll break into Dirty Old Town followed by Mugsy’s rendition of Horse It Into Ye Cynthia. It seemed liked great craic. It turned sour at the end though and they effed each other off before calling it a day.”
EDWARD SNOWDEN TO SEEK ASYLUM IN DUNGANNON
Edward Snowden, the US National Security Agency whistleblower, has been offered asylum in Dungannon today, possibly around the White City area of the town. Deputy Lord Mayoress Jane Hurson confirmed that he’d be welcome in Dungannon as long as he abides by a couple of rules:
“Yes, we’re happy to nip in in front of them Koreans, Bolivians or Ecuadorians. Dungannon is a safe haven for boys like Snowden but he’ll have to abide by a couple of conditions. Firstly, he must spend all his money in local shops and not be buying stuff over the Internet. Secondly, he’s not allowed to use his whistleblowing skills in the White City as regards families doing the double, claiming for DLA or dirty diesel. If he does he’ll get some kicking from me.”
Hagan’s Bar have already planned a ‘Snowden Night’ theme with people asked to dress up as spies or Americans or simply bring whistles.
POMEROY IS JUST A BIG SPEED BUMP BETWEEN STEWARTSTOWN AND CARRICKMORE
Under the 100 year document release policy, the Tyrone Council have revealed that Pomeroy was originally built to slow down horses and carts ‘flying’ between Stewartstown and Carrickmore as well as Cookstown to Beragh. Pomeroy burglar Kevin Og Devlin was not impressed:
“It all makes sense now. We thought people were slowing down to take in the majestic views or to marvel at the architecture of the Credit Union, the Medical Hall, the bookies or the vets. Turns out not a bit of it. They’re just slowing down so that the suspension doesn’t wreck itself. You don’t know how bad we feel today to be a glorified speed bump. Well, feck them. We’re blocking off the Termon Road, Tandragee Road, Edendoit Road and the Pomeroy Road for a fortnight. That’ll learn them.”
East Tyrone Council To Spray Foul-Mouthed Locals With Blue Paint
Three Boys Caught In Donaghmore Today
Following the successful implementation of the Strabane Dog-Fouling Initiative where dog excrement is to be sprayed pink in order to shame the dog-owners, East Tyrone Council have gone one step further and have warned that anyone heard coming out with bad language could be sprayed blue on the spot.
Paddy Jake Cushnahan, Council Chairman, explained the initiative:
“We’re sick and tired with people cursing around these parts. It has become part of the language now. I was at the Council Christmas Dinner and the waitress asked me if I wanted any f*ckin red sauce with my chips, and that was her asking nicely with a smile and all. Well, as from July 1st, if anyone is heard cursing anywhere from Ballygawley to Brocagh they run the risk of one of us jumping out of the hedge or wherever and spraying their heads with blue paint. That’ll shame them. Blue paint for blue language.”
Cushnahan claims that all households will receive a list of bad words that are punishable, as soon as they’ve finished compiling them:
“We’re nearly ready for printing it off now. So far we have 77 words including ‘b*llocks’, ‘sh*te’, ‘dungbag’, ‘oul b*stard’ or any type of b*stard really, ‘f*cker’, ‘f*ck sake’, ‘d*ckhead’, ‘clift’ and so on although clift is a controversial one. We need to stamp this stuff out. ‘Buckin’ is allowed.”
A blue headed mascot, called ‘No Need For That Oul Talk’, will be unveiled later in the week and he’ll be visiting schools and churches to spread the awareness of the new initiative. Anyone caught cursing will be fined £10 on the spot or £8 if they refuse to pay at all, as well as being sprayed with the blue paint that takes a week to come off. A trial run went badly last week in Cookstown when Fr Fay from Clonoe was sprayed blue for saying ‘Jaysus Christ’ at Drum Manor Forest Park. He had been practicing his prayers.
mascot
Killyclogher Man Has To Spend 5p Yet Again For Carrier Bag In Shop. Goes Berserk.
McNabb. Annoyed.
BY SHENGAS MCGLUMPHIE
Police were called yesterday when a man lost his temper in his local supermarket after forgetting to bring his supply of carrier bags with him for the fifth consecutive visit to the shop. Prominent Killyclogher businessman Terence McNabb, 46, arrived at the check-out to discover that he had yet again forgotten to bring his ‘bags for life’ and was told that he would be charged 5 pence for each plastic one.
Check-out assistant Gemma Carson, 18, of Drumquin, said,
“He started off trying to stuff all the shopping into his pockets and down his trousers. How was that ever going to work with a 2-litre bottle of Pepsi and multi-pack of Tayto Spirals? After that he just went off his head. I said I’d have to charge him the 5p carrier bag tax and he started shouting all the bad curses like ‘them environmentalists can go an feck’, and suchlike. It was awful, like watching that fillum with Michael Douglas when he goes mental in the shop with the machine gun. This was just as bad. Well, this man didn’t have a machine gun, but he did have a frozen garlic baguette that he kept waving about in quite a scary way”.
By the time the PSNI arrived McNabb was sitting on the floor suffering from concussion after having head-butted the Thomas the Tank Engine children’s ride. He was forcibly removed from the shop whilst shouting, ‘feck the dolphins’ at the top of his voice, before asking if he could have the coupons for the pyrex dish offer. After examination of CCTV footage he was later charged with threatening a police officer with a box of Tictacs, and criminal damage for having broken Thomas’s funnel.
Supermarket manager Sean Keenan said,
“This bollix has got form. He was in here last year after Kerry bate Tyrone in the GAA, wreckin’ the Kerrygold butter display. Loony. He won’t be welcome back. Well, not until he’s paid over the 5 pence. Every penny counts”.
‘Thon Zumba Classes’ in Glenelly Under PSNI Investigation. No-one Knows What They Are.
By Shengas McGlumphie
A self-help group for men with wives and girlfriends who participate in the practice known as ‘zumba’ have referred the matter to the PSNI in growing concern that they have no idea what it actually is. The hurriedly-formed ‘Glenelly Action Against Zumba-Mentalists’ spoke to the police after consulting neighbours, colleagues, and reading stuff off the internet.
“There’s no doubt about it, something’s going on”, claimed an anxious husband whose wife he said was a zumba addict. “My wife is lost to thon zumba classes. They’ve brainwashed her. They’ve stripped her of every penny she earns. Well, £2.50 a week anyway. And she comes back all red in the face and a bit sweaty-lookin’, like she’s got something to hide”.
“I’m devastated. They’ve taken my girl away”, added a stricken boyfriend of another zumba-ist, “for 1½ hours every week on a Tuesday and Thursday. I’m struggling to cope”, he admitted. “It’s definitely a religious cult. Or a secret society. Or maybe naked pagan dancing and the like. I don’t know. Is it drugs?”
“It’s to do with special cooking classes so they can feed menfolk food that make them do their every bidding” said another. “I used to hate cabbage and bacon and now I can’t get enough of the muck. What’s that about? And apparently there are squats involved”, he added ominously, “and lunges. Thon zumba hoors need watching”.
“It’s a growing disease” agreed another worried man. “My missus succumbed to it a month ago. Now I can’t even get a hot dinner without her rushin’ off with thon bunch of wemin. What next? Limbo dancing to country music, or some such? These are dark days for the county, dark days. If it’s exercise they want, what’s wrong with a slip jig or brooming the yard?”
The PSNI in Dungannon confirmed they had received an approach from an unintelligible group of men who had made a number of incoherent remarks without any foundation whatsoever.
Meantime, local priest Father Joseph Hannigan got in on the act warning his flock last Sunday that anyone caught doing ‘deadly hip gyrations and stuff’ would rot at the very gates of hell with Beelzebub himself breathing fire upon them. Aerobics however were fine.
Stewartstown Ball-Boy Sacked At Wimbledon For Winding Up Players
Coyle throwing a towel on player
Tyrone’s first ever ball-boy at Wimbledon was sent packing today after both tennis players complained about his behaviour on court. Lionel Coyle, an 11-year old student from Donaghendry Road in Stewartstown, had been officiating in only his second Wimbledon game before being escorted off the centre court premises and straight onto a plane from London to Stewartstown. The game in question between Andy Murray and Tommy Robredo carried on regardless with many spectators unaware that one of the ball-boys had been replaced during a break in play.
“He was winding up both players from the start”, referee Peter Willis told us. “He’d loosened all the screws from Robredo’s chair before he sat down on it when he came in. I’d seen him fiddling with the chair beforehand. Then at the end of the first set he handed Andy Murray a banana skin as he’d eaten the banana himself. Worst of all, during the second set he imitated the noise women would make every time both players would hit the ball, like a high pitched squeal and shouting things like “take that ye bollocks” in a Scottish accent. Robredo nearly fought Murray over that comment. It was confusing the spectators and players.”
The players also accused Coyle of messing about during play, throwing them a towel if they asked for a ball. The final straw occurred when he was caught putting glue on the balls was lobbing at the players.
“I was wondering why the balls were sticking to the racquets”, Willis stated. “I kept ordering new balls and the same thing would happen. Then the young lad started firing the balls at wicked speed when the players called for one. A rocket hit Murray on his head and stayed there what with the glue on it. We’ll not be hiring any more ball-boys from Stewartstown again. Maybe Coagh, but not Stewartstown.”
Andy Murray has also requested the return of his favourite sweatbands that mysteriously went missing when Coyle was hoking through his bag looking for “an oul hanky”.
Clogher’s New Lap Dancing Bar ‘Needs A Few Changes’, Admits Owner
BY SHENGAS MCGLUMPHIE
Clogher woman auditioning for club
The owner of a new lap dancing establishment in Clogher admitted after its opening night on Friday that it needs more work to make it a success.
The controversial ‘Eye Candy Gentlemen’s Club’, based in Main Street in Clogher, opened on Friday to considerable criticism from customers. Owner, manager, and borderline pervert Seasamh Mallon agreed that there were a number of issues that needed work, and in particular the two dancers employed by the club, one of which was Kitty McVeigh of Crossowen Road.
“Old Kitty did her best, bless her” said an apologetic Mallon. “She was up on the Eye Candy stage doing a nice wee slip jig, and all thon boys were chanting ‘get them out, get them out’, getting louder and angrier. To be fair to Kitty she obliged, but I don’t think she realised they weren’t talking about her teeth”. Matters took a turn for the worse as the men became more and more insistent. “It could have got ugly, I have to tell you”, said Mallon. “Them boys wanted flesh and weren’t leaving until they had got some. Thank god they calmed down a bit when Kitty eventually undid the top toggle of her duffel coat”.
A customer, who didn’t want to give his name said,
“It was dung. I knew something was dodgy when the sign said it 50p a dance, or 25p plus a bag of boiled sweets. And she had a face like a welder’s bench. ‘Eye Candy’? ‘Eye Cabbage’ more like”.
The club fared no better with the club’s other dancer, Peggy Hagan, of no fixed abode. Mallon commented,
“It was a bit of an eye-opener when she started dancing to Beyoncé’s ‘All The Single Ladies’, but it can’t be easy when you’ve just had both your hips replaced”. He continued, “The lads were starting to get into it but when she was unrolling one of her surgical stockings, her back went and she couldn’t straighten up. She’d have couped right off the front of the stage if she hadn’t been holding onto her zimmer frame”.
A furious customer who also asked not to be named, ranted,
“Feckin’ disgrace. I was expecting a clatter of young wemin, not a couple of feckin’ 70 year olds. I had taken along a big bag of 10 pence pieces and barely spent half of it. And if you ask me 50 feckin’ pence a feckin’ dance is a bit steep for the likes of me, especially when dues every Sunday are in decline. How do they expect a priest to be able to afford that sort of feckin’ money? And they didn’t even accept Nectar points. Feckers”.
Carrickmore Woman Sells Car Boot At Car Boot Sale. Husband Furious.
The Audi, an hour ago
A Carrickmore school cook has angered her husband after selling off the boot of their red Audi A4 at the Dean Maguire College’s annual car boot sale. Hillary Gormley, a canteen cook in a nearby primary school, took the 2009 Audi to the sale whilst her husband, Pat Gormley, attended a cattle market in Edinburgh. Hoping to surprise her husband with a bit of extra cash, Gormley now admits she completely misinterpreted the nature of a car boot sale:
“I’d never actually been to one for the simple reason that I never needed a car boot. Pat had mentioned before he left for Scotland that I should go down to the school’s car boot sale and sell something. As we’ve only the one motor at the minute, I thought it a bit surprising as he cherished that Audi. But I went anyway and sold the boot within minutes for £2000. How the hell was I to know what a car boot sale meant? I just thought the other people hadn’t cleaned their boots out yet when I arrived and saw toys and cutlery lying about theirs.”
Pat Gormley was aghast when driving up his loanan only to see the beloved Audi cut in half, supported by two barrels at the back.
“I thought it was some type of elaborate joke at first, that maybe it was some kind of optical illusion played by a local magician. It wasn’t until I saw Hilary’s face that I realised she had ballsed something up. This is an appeal to the fellow who bought the boot of my motor. Please can we have it back with a full refund. Hillary reckons he has a Loughmacrory or maybe Pomeroy accent. We’ll weld it back on.”
This is not the first time Hillary got the wrong end of the stick. In 1988, she bought 99 ice creams after her mother sent her to the van man to get her a ’99’.
Tyrone Clergy Bemoan Lack Of Badness In Youngsters
Should be out gallivanting
A statement this morning by the underground ‘Red Hand Priests Are Us’ movement has called on parents and guardians to turn a blind eye to bad manners and general impishness in their children in order to save the tradition of confessions across the county. In recent years priests in many parishes have complained they are twiddling their thumbs between two and three on a Saturday as empty booths and vanishing queues are now a normal sight from Ardboe to Aghyaran. Fr Johnston from Greencastle admitted:
“We might have to abandon confessions completely. The children are now just sitting on their iPads or PlayStations. Even the couple who do trickle in tell us nothing worthwhile like knocking over a vase or sneezing and they end up taking on all the Hail Marys to be given out that day. One girl last week said she forgot to give her mother a hug and I had to hit her with 19 decades of the rosary. That’s not fair, but there’s too much penance to go around now.”
Fr Traynor from Carrickmore agreed:
“Oh how I long for the days when there’d be queues out the door with lads telling you about blowing up frogs, leaving bags of shite on the elderly neighbour’s doorstep or robbing the pub. Nowadays these youngster are too buckin lazy to get up to devilment. What are parents at these days? Can they not see the basic fabric of a young Irish child’s life is disappearing? I’m not talking devil-worshipping here but confessing to giving your brother a kicking or two would brighten the whole process up for us.”
A school in Dungannon has been first to act with a proposed GCSE class on ‘General Bad Manners and Skulduggery’ starting in September 2013. Master Cullen informed us:
“This will be a rigorous course with an element of practical which involves two pupils playing dangerous pranks on each other like locking one in a skip and rolling it down the steep bank. That sort of thing. They’ll be allowed to curse at the teacher too.”
Confessions continue this week at 2pm everywhere.
Pomeroy Frantically ‘Doing Itself Up’ As It Prepares For Triumphant Andrea’s Return
Pomeroy Clean-Up Begins
By Shengas McGlumphie
The village of Pomeroy spent much of Sunday in a state of panic as it prepares itself for the much-awaited return of local singing sensation Andrea Begley, who won BBC’s ‘The Voice’ on Saturday night. After an emergency meeting of the Pomeroy Village Council (PVC), a clearly-flustered Chairman Danny Devlin said,
“Jaysus, we’re sweating like Hugo on Mastermind. We’re expecting Andrea back soon and we’ve nothing ready. Not even sandwiches. What if she turns up this afternoon with all the cameras and there are no sandwiches?”
It emerged that the PVC spent much of Sunday trying to get hold of Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen on the phone to ask if he could give the village ‘a quick makeover’. As Devlin explained,
“If that big floppy-haired bollix or thon Smillie woman can come along to give the place a wee tidy-up that would help. We’d expect a big crowd of people for Andrea and we could ask the BBC if they could CGI out all the odd-looking ones. We don’t want people thinking Halloween’s come early. Fortunately we’ve some of the bunting left over from the time Dermott O’Gara from Altmore won £50 on a scratch card in Costcutter’s in 2008, so that might improve the look of the place”.
Several local residents have queried the whereabouts of a much-touted open-topped bus which the PVC spent £10,000 on only a few weeks ago.
“It’s a touch embarrassing”, said a sheepish Devlin. “We bought this fancy open-topped bus from Carrickmore. They got it as a welcome home for that boy who made it into the grand final of ‘Embarrassing Bodies’ on Channel 4. We wanted it for Obama’s visit because we reckoned he’d take a wee jaunt down to Pomeroy after the G8. As it turns out he didn’t, so a few of the committee members sort of took it out on the bus in a wee fit of annoyance. Understandable like. Turns out we now need it for Andrea. But we’ve got to fix all the dents and the graffiti. And the fire damage. And we can’t do that until we’ve pulled it back out of Dungannon Lake. We’ve really made a hames of it”.
The PVC meantime intend to fax Philomena Begley to ask if she can ‘keep Andrea talking for a bit’ if she arrives too early.
Riot Breaks Out In Loughmacrory Store Over ‘Patrick’ Coke Bottle
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Up to 120 people were responsible for a mass brawl lasting twenty minutes after the name ‘Patrick’ was spotted on a Coca-Cola bottle at 4pm today in the Loughmacrory Store. The ‘Share a Coke’ campaign has taken 150 of the most popular names and stuck them on their bottles. 119 Loughmacrory residents had been patiently waiting for Patrick to appear after every male child in from 1975-1980 was named Patrick in the area. Store owner Mary Loughran told us:
“Feck me. We thought we’d averted any possible brawl by placing the bottles behind the counter with the names out of sight. Unfortunately, the young apprentice helping me out nudged one of the bottles to show ‘Patrick’ and all hell broke loose. What with social networking these days, every Patrick in the area was on the scene within five minutes, pretending to buy Wagon Wheels or things like that. Smattering of fights started to break out in the queue for the till and before long the Pot Noodle stand was being hurled through the shop window followed by a couple of the weaker Patricks. It was some handlin alright.”
The police arrived on the scene, only to worsen the situation. The constable on charge ‘Patrick Quinn’ himself set his sights on the bottle and started arresting as many Patricks as he could before the penny dropped amongst the other Patricks. Paddy McGee, who lost three upper teeth, said he went down fighting:
“I didn’t get the bottle but I got a quare few clinkers on the constable’s nose. He told me he’d cut off my balls in the blink of an eye and I sorta believed him. Even Patricia Morgan took the head clean off Fr Patrick Maguire.”
The bottle was finally purchased by electrician Patrick Jordan who has since hired the bouncers from Sally’s to stand outside his house at night whilst his wife Amanda will mind it during the day.
Brackaville’s Pagans Rejoice On The Summer Solstice. “Just Like Christmas”
Brackaville, five minutes ago
Brackaville, the most pagan village in the northern hemisphere, is today celebrating the longest day in the year by having their biggest party yet according to the postman, Leo McClure. Bonfires lit the landscape coming out of Coalisland up the Brackaville Road from as early as 6am with reports of men and women ‘buck leapin about drinking clear stuff from mineral bottles’.
“Frig me. I’ve been delivering letters up the Brackaville Road for years and thought I’d seen it all. But this morning, it was like a big mad frenzied orgy thing even though there was none of that stuff going on. Just men and wemen leaping about a bonfire buck naked shouting just ‘yahoooo’ and stuff like that. Some of them were teachers, doctors, chapel cleaners and all. They love their midsummer up there, them pagans.”
The name Brackaville itself derives from the old Latin ‘Brak a Vil’ which means Heathens on the Hill. Paganism in the area has been rife since the late 1700s with reports of mad dancing and yahooing in old newspapers at the time. Chief Summer Solstice organiser, Harry Gillis, told us:
“Ah you should see the wee children’s faces this morning when they woke up to hear that it was midsummer. It’s even better than Christmas which we don’t believe in but do it anyway for the craic. How often do you get to see Mrs Campbell out in her bra dancing about and singing songs about goats and flowers? It’s a special day. Them believers down in Coalisland are fierce jealous. Them with their oul sad heads trapsing to the chapel to be told about damnation and looking up the road and seeing the sights up here. It must be tough for them.”
The one-day festival ends at midnight after the sacred ritual of capturing someone from Coalisland and Newmills, placing them in a pot of water and pretending to sacrifice them before letting them go just as the water reaches lukewarm.
Dullest Man in Urney ‘Mad for The Craic’ As Mid-Life Crisis Threatens
Typical Urney man
BY SHENGAS MCGLUMPHIE
A mind-numbingly boring man from Urney has surprised friends and family by embarking on what he has declared as being “a series of extraordinarily reckless adventures” as a result of a mid-life crisis.
“I suppose my life has been a bit dreary” admitted 43 year old Terence ‘Driller’ McDiarmid, an assistant accountant from Urney, “But all that’s changing. It’s time to start acting all deadly, and boy am I doing that in style. It’s been a long time since my riotous youth when I earned the mad ‘Driller’ nickname”.
McDiarmid’s change in behaviour came when when his wife, long-suffering Angela, noticed he had stopped tying a double-knot in his shoelaces.
“He’s a boring pernickety bollix so he is” she admitted. “So I noticed the change straight away. And I knew something was different when he ate an apple after dinner without washing it first”.
McDiarmid, an ardent Elton John fan, also said he had radically changed his musical tastes by buying every Billy Joel album of the last 20 years.
“I know, it’s madness. Nothing’s off limits. Last night I went to bed and left the hall landing light on the whole night”, said a proud McDiarmid. “And it was a hundred-watter”, he added.
A source close to McDiarmid told us:
“Ah Jaysus, Terry’s the most boring man you’ll ever meet this side of Stewartstown. Ask Driller the time and he’ll tell you how to make the feckin’ clock”.
Other reckless incidents undertaken by McDiarmid in the last two weeks have included eating a yoghurt two days past its sell-by date, going to the shops in the car without wearing driving gloves, and walking to work without an umbrella when the forecast said it might be showery.
McDiarmid now says he is contemplating a complete career change and becoming an insurance broker. Meanwhile, his family have admitted that the nickname ‘Driller’ was given in his teens as a result of his ability to bore everyone to death.
Tyrone Tribulations 