Augher Man Set To Sue Hollywood For ‘Stealing My Idea’
By Staff Reporter Shengas McGlumphie
Augher in the 60s?
An Augher farmer plans to sue Hollywood makers for the theft of an idea which may have been as the basis for the recent smash hit movie, ‘Life of Pi’, currently shown in cinemas across the UK. Phelim McAlinden from McAlinden Farm near Altadavin wrote a poem called ‘Life of Pie’ in 1966 after his teacher punished him for throwing the spit bucket around another pupil by ordering a young Phelim to write a poem about pies over breaktime.
“I’m fuming if the truth be told. Them boys in Amerikay are ruthless. The Master said it was one of the best poems he’d ever seen a 6-year-old write and I’ve sort of been living off that praise since then. I’m known as ‘the boy who wrote the poem’ around these parts, even in my 53rd year. I remember it word for word:
Oh me. Oh my. I love a pie
And always will. I do decry.
Other food I sometimes try
But till the day I die. It’s a life of pie.”
‘Life Of Pi’, the film based on the book of the same name by Yann Martel, tells the story of a spiritual journey of a young boy in India who rejects his father’s rationalism and creates a personal amalgam of Hinduism, Christianity and Islam. Phelim admits he has no idea how they managed to come across the idea, nor accepts that the film has nothing whatsoever to do with his poem, including the title, the basic premise, the plot, the characters, the start, the middle, and the ending. He was originally advised to sue for £20m but has since said he’d settle for a ‘lock of pounds’.
“That’s what they do, lucksee. They change all the story to get out of paying. They’re crafty that way. Sometimes you have to stand up to the man. I don’t want to get in the way of a good movie but credit where credit’s due boys. If them boys in Hollywood send me twenty quid that would probably be the end of it”.
McAlinden says he is also also looking closely at the recent Quentin Tarantino film ‘Django Unchained’, which he believes may be sourced from another poem he wrote in the 1980s called ‘Jangle’, based on the loose change he had in the pocket of his dungarees that day.
Brocagh Woman Had Been Using Monopoly Money For 15 Years. Finally Caught.
Mrs McKeevney bought cooked ham with this
A Brocagh octogenarian had been buying groceries in her local shop since 1998 with monopoly money, Cookstown Court heard today.
The pensioner was apprehended last week when the aging shopkeeper’s son finally took over the family business.
Mary McKeevney (88), of Ballybeg Road, had been given the popular Christmas game in the late 1990s and mistakenly paid for a tin of corned beef and a pint of buttermilk on St Stephen’s Day 1998 using a Monopoly fiver. Having realised her good fortune, McKeevney continued to swindle the owner of Davidson’s Greengrocers, Ignatious Davidson (85), on a daily basis until her final purchase last Saturday night.
Davidson’s son and new proprietor of the shop, Kieran, filled in the blanks:
“Daddy always had a notion of Mary, ever since she won the Miss Wrangler Jeans at Brocagh Sports Day in 1966. Even as they approached their 80s he’d be flirting with her in the shop, making suggestive remarks about beef sausages and lemon tarts. I’ve no doubt that Mary’s initial purchase of the corned beef with the fake fiver was a legitimate mistake but it’s also clear her skulduggery spiralled out of control.”
Mrs McKeevney admitted purchasing nearly 400 Monopoly boards over the following years, dishing out £500’000 in Monopoly money in that time for bananas, teabags, Nutty Crust bread and sucking sweets mostly.
“My da is a deadly hoarder can just kept all takings under his bed in a big box. He has over a million pounds in it. Unfortunately half of it is useless unless you want to buy Mayfair or Marylebone Station. He was too busy ogling Mary’s aged and decrepit features to realise he was being hoodwinked. He retired last week so Mary got some shock when she saw me behind the counter. The brazen hussy tried it on with me but I knew straight away it was a Monopoly £20 she was using to pay for the Irish News and 20 white bonbons. She’s good looking for an 88-year old, I’ll give her that.”
Police now suspect that McKeevney’s husband wasn’t actually murdered in May 1991 by Professor Plum with a piece of lead piping in the billiard room as initially believed following his wife’s statement that fateful night.
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”.
Saint Patrick Found Parts Of Tyrone Hard To Convert, Especially Brackaville
St Patrick, pointing at the ground
Recent ecclesiastical papers released under the 1500 year rule at Trinity College in Dublin have revealed that St Patrick admitted he had his work cut out making Tyrone natives to give up their Pagan ways and embrace Christianity, predominately in Newmills, Pomeroy and Brackaville.
Written in Latin, St Patrick penned a letter to a mate in Wales detailing his frustration and exasperation at the heathen way of life in and around Brackaville and at once stage remarked that it’d be ‘easier to take the wet from water than to get them boys to pray even for a second’. Latin expert, Dr Patrick Mossey, translated his first short letter in its entirety:
Dear Alad,
This is turning out to be some handling. Converting Ardboe was tough. They worshipped the pollan fish before I arrived. A man fired a dog at me through the window of a pub in Coagh. But none of that compares to the troubles I’m having in Brackaville. These people are something else, lad. Twice I’ve tried to preach from the hill on the Derryvale Road and it’d be going well initially. Then a shower of women from Edendork would arrive and the orgies would start. I’d be shouting over the mass of bare arses. Deadly annoying, Alad.
They still sacrifice things there y’know. Wolves, deer, Armagh people. I’m thinking of calling it a day and hoping the Coalisland ones marry into this area, bringing their more refined ways with them. Ach I’ll miss the craic a bit at Campbell’s shebeen but God didn’t send me to gulp down the black stuff in Brackaville.
Yours, Patrick.
Although little evidence remains in Brackaville of St Patrick’s failed attempt to Christianise the area, some of the older members of the community do remember something of a boy called Patrick who tried to do something here but admit that might have been the lignite man they ignored in 1984.
Bridges on new A4 extension ‘deadly for trolls’ claims Ballygawley man
Deadly for trolls
By Staff Reporter Shengas McGlumphie
“Them wee troll boys are bad news” said Terry McGerr from Church Street. “They’ve been nothing but trouble since thon new big road opened. And it’s all because they hang about under all them new fancy bridges. Bridges to trolls is like what a jar of honey is to bees. Anyways, what was wrong with the Ballygawley line?”
A troll is a supernatural being from Norse mythology and Scandinavian folklore. Known for living under bridges, trolls are said to be ugly and slow-witted, often with particularly grotesque facial characteristics.
“I’m sure I’ve seen some hanging about Donaghmore outside Grimes’ place, bold as brass, like they own the shop. They’ll be taking our jobs next, and then what? It was fine when it was just the one wee troll underneath Hopper’s Bridge on the Aughnagar Road. He kept himself to himself. In fact, you’d never even see him. Now you can’t move for feckin trolls.”
McGerr admitted that he hadn’t actually made any conclusive troll sightings but says he has come close:
“Oh aye, two Friday nights ago late on I saw a bunch of them all squatted down under the bridge at Cabragh like a wee witch’s coven, all cacklin away thinking no-one was watching them. It was only when I got up close I realised it was just some Killeeshil lasses on their way home from Quinn’s Corner, stopping off to relieve themselves in the sheuk”.
Undeterred, McGerr intends to continue his not-in-my-back-yard style of Council lobbying until action is taken.
New Pope Not Sure If Cookstown Will Stay Up
Up the Pope
In a moment of weakness, perhaps brought on by the stress of his new job, Pope Francis the First admitted to an aide that he fears Cookstown Fr Rocks will tumble back down to the Intermediate grade having learned nothing from their previous foray into the senior grade a couple of years ago. The Argentinian Pontiff has never hidden his admiration for the Fr Rocks as well as his love for San Lorenzo, his local soccer side. Under his previous name, Jorge Bergoglio, the former Cardinal would combine watching his home team with scouring the Internet for a live stream of Cookstown’s league and Championship outings.
“Ah he’s mad about them Father Rocks”, admitted his best friend Fr Toto Schillachi. “There bes times when you’d catch him dreaming mid-service and you know it has dawned on him that the Rocks are playing a league match that day, probably against the likes of Killeeshil or Urney. One day, in Buenos Aires, he had the whole school dressed in blonde mullets singing ‘Mugsy’s Blue and Navy Army’ in Latin. It was quite a spectacle. He’s a quare eejit.”
Reports that he fears for Cookstown’s ability to stay in the senior grade has come as a blow for the busy market town although early signs indicate it will make the Rocks more resolute to keep their place in the top grade. A club insider remarked:
“Listen, it’s great that His Holiness is part of the Azzuri Army but we can do without the negativity. He should stick to the praying and we’ll do the playing. At the same time, he’s welcome down at Convent Lane any time he wants. It’s usually only a fiver in to club games.”
The Pope celebrated Cookstown’s All-Ireland last month with a slap-up feast of Cookstown Sizzlers, champ and a glass of Buckfast.
Moortown Woman “Put Manners On Husband” By Locking Him In Byre For 48 Hours
Artist’s impression of Sunday night
A Moortown teacher, Bernie Corkery (nee Quinn), has been hailed as a hero after she locked her husband in a byre for two days following a domestic argument last weekend. Neighbours reported ‘shouting and roaring’ emanating from the Battery Road abode on Sunday night after her Cork-born husband Fonsie Corkery returned home after midnight having attended the Tyrone-Cork game earlier in the day. Reports suggest Corkery stopped off in Quinns and then the Battery Bar itself before returning home in high spirits following the comprehensive rebel victory over the Red Hands. Bernie’s sister, Jackie Quinn, maintains the Cork man had it coming:
“Ah sure, too good for him says I. She should’ve kept him in the byre til the weekend. He’d been crowing away down at the Battery singing about Skibbereen and A Rebel Heart. A couple of the Devlins needed held back from boxing the ears off him but they gave him a fool’s pardon in the day that was in it. I knew our Bernie wouldn’t. That woman should get some kind of recognition for tying that bastard up with the cattle til Tuesday. Fair play to her. It’ll put manners on him.”
Friends of Corkery arrived at the house on Tuesday morning as he hadn’t appeared at the Whist Night in the club the night before. It was only when they heard the gentle whining that they investigated the byre itself. Tony Hurson explained:
“It was some sight, ghost-oh. The cattle were licking away at his head, with the smell rather rancid. A bit extreme I thought from Bernie. She has a fierce temper on her though and with him in a bullish mood after the Cork massacre in Omagh as well as being well-oiled from the stout in Quinns, it was a lethal concoction. I thought I heard screaming coming from their place on Sunday night but thought she was just dishing out a few slaps. I didn’t know she’s tie him up out here.”
Dubliner John McGregory, married to Bernie’s sister Tamsin, says he’ll play it down if the Dubs win this weekend.
Coalisland Navvies Built Stonehenge 3000 Years Ago To Get Women, New Book Claims
The Island Men Built This By Mistake
A recent addition to the prehistoric monument library in London’s chief library has claimed that a group of Coalisland lads over looking for work in England 3000 years ago built the Stonehenge construction after another unsuccessful night out chasing the local women whilst most likely drinking ether or absinthe. Why the Fianna labourers built the monument is still open to interpretation although expert archeologist Dr Fredrick Winston OBE has put forward a couple of hypotheses:
“Firstly, let us acknowledge these brave innovators from Coalisland who came over here to lay down a few roads over 3000 years ago. Having arrived here they probably realised that roads hadn’t been invented yet nor train tracks for that matter. It’s a likely scenario that they decidhed to stay in England for the time being before making the long trek back to Coalisland by foot, a journey lasting 133 days. Personally, I believe they decided to built some kind of construction, hoping to entice the local women with their labouring skills. They definitely were not some kind of Pagans or spiritual hippies. Just after a bit of skirt I think. They appear to have erected coarse load-bearing walls with the intention of adding the plasterboard later. What went wrong we cannot ascertain but it’s likely they just gave up the ghost what with the effects of hardened drinking and simply threw up a few long irregular stones to act as ceilings. “
A group of Coalisland Historical Committee members have put in place plans to finish off what their forefathers started and build some kind of courting court or brothel that the original planners probably intended to do. The British Archeological Society will receive notification of their idea later in the week. Timmy Herron is confident they’ll get the green light.
“It’d be a crying shame if they don’t let us finish off the whorehouse, like. We in Coalisland have a long history of building things. Eastern Building Supplies recently built the outhouse around the back of the Cohannon Inn and anyone who has used the toilet there says it’s a great job and you can do your business in comfort.”
The book – “The Crazy Womanizing ‘Island Navvies Weren’t Hippies At All” will be on sale next year some time.
Loughmacrory Coalman Gets Nod To Supply Coal For Vatican Smoke Signal
Cardinal Hjata throws on Loughmacrory coal.
There was much rejoicing in Loughmacrory this morning after it emerged that local coalman and animal balloon contortionist, Malachy O’Brien, has been chosen to supply the coal for the papal conclave’s fireplace today. Whilst the world watches on in anticipation for the signal, it will be Loughmacrory smoke emerging from the Sistine Chapel’s chimney which will hopefully spark a mass tourism boost for the beleaguered village.
“I’m delighted,” O’Brien told the assembled media. “I had a bad reputation a few years ago for selling that oul shite coal that burns out in seconds giving no hate (heat) at all. Now the hate is deadly. If you dig deep enough in Loughmacrory you’ll get the good stuff. Still, I didn’t expect to hear Benedict on the other side of the phone. He just asked if this was O’Brien from Loughmacrory and if I’d throw a lock of 20kg bags on a plane before they started the meeting today. I thought it was Red Loughran from up the road and started calling him all the hoors of the day. It wasn’t until I heard the distinctive German brogue coming down the phone when he threatened to ex-communicate me and all that hellish damnation stuff that I backed down and asked for forgiveness. We’ll laugh at it in years to come.”
O’Brien’s coal is burning at the moment but early reports have indicated that a couple of Cardinals have complained about the ‘deadly heat’ and that the coal was spitting a bit when a new batch is thrown on, burning small holes into an expensive furry mat they had made by slave workers in Cambodia. Loughmacrory Coals are investigating whether wetting the coal beforehand will dampen its explosive nature by doing experiments in a disused fireplace on the Drumnakilly Road.
Date Set For ‘New Tyrone 2014’ Image Conference
Possible Donegal/Tyrone border signpost.
A date has finally been agreed on for the inaugural Tyrone New Image Conference, the County Tyrone Tourism Board announced today at their Seskinore headquarters. March 31st, despite falling on Easter Sunday, was unanimously agreed after representatives from all townlands intimated they’d rather be at this congress than sitting at home eating chocolate for the risen Jesus. All members also agreed on the need for speed on this issue following twelve harrowing months of negative headlines emanating from the county from ball-grabbing, handbag-swinging and mouth-gouging to person-gobbing, diesel-laundering and a declining standards in Country and Western musicians. Chairman of the tourism committee, Lisa Horridge, set out the agenda this morning:
“First up, we need to decide whether we stick or twist. Do we embrace the negativity and turn our county into a fearless wilderness like Mexico or Dundalk, or do we start with a clean slate and clamp down on any behaviour we see as being detrimental to our reputation? We appear to be split on that stance as we speak. The Carrickmore delegation are proposing that we go full-on and get signs saying “Welcome To Hell” at various locations on the county borders. Ardboe have motioned the idea of rejecting any attempts by the government to police the county or pay taxes. Strabane wish to bring back lynching for people suspected of having liaised with outsiders and witch hunts against folk susceptible to politeness. Then you have the other side of the coin like Donaghmore. They want sanctions put in place that forbid people with ‘an odd eye in their head’ to be seen outside during daylight hours, like inbreds or something especially up near Castlecaulfield. Sion Mills want compulsory elocution lessons for farmers and labourers. There’s a lot to discuss really.”
In what promises to be a heated debate, all townlands have been asked to canvass their population to find out where they stand on the whole ‘New Image 2014’ debate. Presently, only Brocagh have revealed their preference indicating they will be taking a ‘No’ stance, instead advocating public displays of nudity and stepping up general bad manners at all times.
Greedy Dromore Father Fools Children On Mother’s Day
Artist’s impression of fight
A devious Dromore daddy, who conned his children into thinking he was their mother this morning whilst the mother herself was out tending to the cattle, was this afternoon hanging his head in shame around the back of the house. Barney McCarron, who recently celebrated his birthday as well, put on his wife’s nightgown and hair rollers whilst she toiled outside doing the early shift dunging out the yard from 5am. The eldest child, Cathair (9), was the first to fall for it:
“Jaysus he’s some bollocks. I saw the hair rollers above the duvet just and didn’t want to wake ‘mummy’ on her special day so I just left the Ferrero Rocher and scratch cards beside the bed. About twenty minutes later I brought my younger sister in who had prepared her a breakfast and ‘she’ was still asleep but I saw that the chocolates had been eaten and the cards scratched. We left the breakfast beside her again and left.”
The scam was uncovered when the actual mother, Kitty McCarron, returned to the house in clabber to the throat. Having established what had just happened, all three pounded up the stairs and caught Barney finishing off the black pudding, still with the rollers in.
“Well, you could have heard the slap in Tattyreagh. My mother kicked the dung clean out of him for the guts of an hour, calling him things I’d never even heard before. He’s out the back at the minute sulking with her nightie still on. I can’t see things thawing in this house until he does something big to compensate. He tried to compliment her on how tidy the yard looked but that just made it worse. She was a fearsome sight with the eyes bulging and her covered in manure from top to toe. Some handlin.”
Neighbours have rallied around and brought Kitty some buns whilst shouting obscenities at Barney on the way out.
Tyrone Weekend Gossip Snippets – March 9/10
ELECTION NEWS
Francie Molloy’s victory in Mid-Ulster have seen a rise in extreme beard-sporting men across the county. Molloy’s fashion statement has been embraced warmly by the locals who wanted a new fad as the Dennis Taylor upsidedown glasses were starting to look dated.
BENBURB SUNDAY
Benburb Sunday organisers have warned Justin Bieber that if he’s late or takes ill during his performance in the townland this summer that they’ll kick ‘seven shades of shite’ out of him. The threat was sent by fax.
MOTHERS’ DAY IN ARDBOE CANCELLED
Mothers’ Day in Ardboe has been postponed for a year after a shop in the village mistakenly advertised it as Mother’s Day, with the apostrophe in the wrong place signalling it was just one mother. Children took this as gospel and neglected to buy anything for their own mothers. Mrs McGuigan is the lucky mother.
STREET LIGHTING IN GREENCASTLE REJECTED BY LOCALS
Greencastle residents have cut down the recently erected street-lighting on the main street. They said it was shining a light on the ‘things’ they do at night.
PLUMBRIDGE ROMANCE
A 21-year old carpenter from The Plum ‘got a woman’ at the Greenvale last weekend. The priest is to mention the success at Mass tonight and the choir have promised to sing the song from Titanic.
GORTIN MONITOR KOREAN CRISIS
The Gortin International War Monitoring Committee have issued a statement saying they’re keeping an eye on ‘them there Koreans’ and that they’re not afraid to ‘start swinging’ if they don’t calm down a bit.
TONY DONNELLY PISSED OFF
Tyrone assistant manager is reportedly ‘pissed off’ at having to stand behind the wire during games with the ‘ordinary plebs from the East’, complaining of wire marks on his hands. Negotiations to do a swop deal every now and again with Mickey are on-going but Harte is refusing to budge, stating an allergy to wire mesh and people close to the lough.
Police Foil Derrytresk Man’s Plans To Shout Stuff At Derrylaughan Man in Dublin On 16th
How McGarrell might have looked
This morning a successful raid on a house on the Derrytresk Road uncovered detailed plans for a 36-year old joiner to shout mild abuse at a Dublin player who originally hailed from neighbouring Derrylaughan. Aloysius McGarrell, an ex waterboy for the local senior team, had painstakingly drawn up a list of things to shout at Paddy Quinn during the Dublin/Tyrone match on the 16th of March in Croke Park. The piece of paper was discovered down the side of his settee after a tip-off from another Derrytresk man who didn’t want further negative coverage on the Joe Duffy Show the following Monday. PSNI spokesman, Herbert Houlihan, was in no doubt they acted just in time:
“We fully understand that Paddy Quinn is a Derrylaughan man and now a Dub, two things that are sure to get the blood pumping in any Derrytresk woman and man – a double whammy so to speak. That still does not excuse shouting barely threatening things at a player in full earshot of southern children who wouldn’t be used to that talk at all.”
Houlihan proceeded to list the worst of the abuse in what now appears to be a carefully worded assault in order to unnerve the new Dub from the north:
“Top of the list was “away a that a ye”. Next was “aye, you’re some boy”‘ followed by “typical Derrylaughan”, “not good enough, are we?”, “please come back” and, most harrowing of all – “wouldn’t get on the Hill team”. No spectator pays in good money to hear that, especially the posher Dublin ones in sheepskin coats. We’ve done the game a great service today. Fair play to young Hagan for touting.”
McGarrell says he has learned his lesson but wasn’t really going to do it anyway as the list was just things he was shouting at the TV on his own when Quinn played for the Dubs a lock of weeks ago.
Strabane Farmer Appears On Piers Morgan’s Life Stories By Mistake
Not Tom Hughes
An unfortunate error saw a whole one-hour show hosted by Piers Morgan dedicated to the life and times of Strabane pig farmer Tom Hughes, screened live to initially 7.3m viewers across the UK last night.
Morgan was slow to realise a mistake had been made and that Tom Hughes was not the Tom Cruise they had been preparing for since the Spring season line-up was announced shortly after Christmas.
Hughes, who was only in London that day to inspect a champion pot-bellied pig that a woman had been auctioning on Gumtree, had decided to kill a few hours by visiting the TV studios in the capital city:
“I was just dandering around the TV place when someone shouted if Tom Hughes was here yet. I presumed they’d heard I’d be in London as you know what Strabane people are like for the gossiping. I put my hand up and they ushered me onto the set and this boy started asking me questions about Top Gun and Mission Impossible. It was a bit odd for him to be quizzing me about that stuff and I just told him I’d never seen them at which the audience laughed heartily.”
The penny dropped when Hughes started talking about his love of mashed spuds and scallions and needing to get home before the Angelus came on the TV.
“The man then asked me if I was the real Tom Cruise atall and says I sure I’m Tom Hughes from Strabane, one of the Baker Hughes’ from Lifford originally. To be fair to him he kept on with the interview as it was apparently live and they’d spent over a million pounds making it. The audience fairly emptied though and the women who’d thrown their knickers at me as I came on to the set at the start retrieved their underwear sheepishly.”
Viewing figures plummeted during the second half of the show with only seven people watching as Hughes told of his love of scorching through Strabane in his Nissan Sunny with the soundtrack from The Matrix or Jaws playing full blast on the car radio, making him feel he was in the movies himself.
Morgan finished the interview, clearly embarrassed, by claiming that Hughes was possibly one of the most unhinged people he’d ever met.
Next week, Morgan interviews Bruno Tonioli.
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.
Aughnacloy Nurse Looked After Queen. Says She Was Quare Craic.
Queen – not as grumpy as she looks
An Aughnacloy woman was given the job of looking after the UK Queen this week in hospital as the British monarch battled bad wind and irregular bowel movements. Belinda Gildernew, an employee of the King Edward VII hospital since she was dismissed from Craigavon for slipping patients a ‘drop of the hard stuff’, maintains the head of the royal family wasn’t grumpy at all and was ‘some girl for the slaggings’.
“To be honest I wasn’t overly excited when I was given the briefing. I thought she’d be too old for a bit of banter. How wrong was I? As soon as she heard my accent she was ‘Paddy this’ and ‘to be sure to be sure’ that, all in good taste. I told her where I came from and I was astonished when she asked if Sean Douglas still played for Aghaloo. I really underestimated her knowledge of the lower leagues in Tyrone.”
Gildernew was sad to see Windsor leave the hospital yesterday as it meant she had to go back to cleaning the arses of patients who weren’t all that much craic at all.
“Ah I’ll miss the oul bint you know. She’d obviously done a bit of research on the Gildernews overnight using a special computer because the next morning she was fit to slag me about the fight we’re having with the Hughes family over access to a field near Caledon. There was one scary moment though when I dropped my guard and told her about my uncle who tried to blow her up in the 80s. Her faced dropped and she said she’d have me hanged in the tower for treason. I nearly dunged the togs. She then broke out laughing and told me to ‘have a titter of wit’ and sure it was all water under the bridge. She said her and Philip even listen to the Wolfe Tones before weddings.”
Belinda says she told the Queen she’s welcome down the Monaghan Road any time apart from Saturday mornings as they’re normally dying with the hangovers.
Newell Stores Creating 150 Jobs In Coalisland – One Man Not Happy
The cat that went for Thornton
Despite the general excitement in the greater Coalisland area that the new supertmarket, Newell Stores, is to create a rake of jobs for people on the dole, Pedro ‘The Deballer’ Thornton took to the street this morning to campaign against the latest addition to the Coalisland retail landscape. Thornton, 59, maintains he wanted a job there too but his back was too sore for sweeping or doing shelves. After arranging a meeting with the owners to discuss other options, Thornton left in disgust after being told the only job left was to lick stamps:
“I used to be big news around here. I neutered cats for 25 years for everyone within a 10-mile radius. Even the Yellow Pages had me as ‘Mr Deballer, Coalisland’. I was a celebrity, like, and had no bother with getting the women because of it.”
Pedro had to give up the neutering business after he had the face scratched off him by a continental large cat as he attempted to neuter the beast which was imported during the International Festival. He claims he will not degrade himself by becoming the supermarket stamp licker:
“I had to take a couple of years off after the stress of that big bastard clawing away at my choppers like. My good looks never really returned and I think that’s why I’m not getting jobs anymore. There are worse looking people than me in management positions. Fair enough, the empty eye socket and missing nose might frighten the young’uns but after a while they become less scared. I’m not buckin licking stamps though. Imagine the slagging down in O’Neills I’d be getting about being an ‘oul lick’ or ‘gluey tongue scratch-the-face himself’. I’ll campaign here for a day or two just against the store as long as it’s not too cold.”
Thornton says he’ll not give up on finding employment though and has turned his hand to freak show performances for an illegal Croatian circus in Dungannon, calling himself ‘The Deballing Demon‘ as he attempts to neuter lions.
What’s On In Tyrone – March 5/6
Penrose in full flight
SATURDAY
Brocagh Spring Festival
Saturday 5th (12pm) sees the annual Brocagh Spring Festival, a pagan celebration dating back thousands of years when the first settlers in Ireland headed up to Brocagh for a rake about. This year, famous Brocagh exports including Tom McGurk (RTE), Gerry Davidson (finished third in a 3-mile race in Liverpool during the 80s) and ex-president Mary Robinson (passed through Brocagh by mistake in 1991) will be there to sign autographs and smile in photos. Other activities conclude ‘blind man’s bluff in the buff‘, “staring competitions” and “drink a gallon of cider and score from the 45m line“. Festivities conclude with the traditional dance between two self-confessed virgins between the ages of 20 and 30. Organisers have announced that Kitty O’Neill is now 31 so a new woman must come forward.
Loughmacrory Baby-Jumping Competition
This controversial event is probably in its last year as the European Courts are closing in. All babies taking part win a week’s supply of Farley Rusks. Last year’s record of 8 babies is the target for competitors Larry Penrose (above), Hillary Lily and Dan Barr. First jump 11am.
SUNDAY
Ardboe Fish-Swallowing Festival
The first year for this weekend extravaganza, the fish-loving community in Ardboe have come up with a unique way to celebrate their talents by holding a fish-swallowing competition with the unique take that the fish must still be alive. No one really knows how this will work at all but it’s sure to attract massive crowds to the loughshore at 3pm Sunday for the eel section.
Gortin-Glen Nude Bathing
Bare men and women here on Sunday
The famous Gortin Glen Forest Park hosts their nude-bathing evening this Sunday. Men and women from as far as Glenelly will take part in the hope that the magical Gortin waters will cure all warts and other things like that. Come along to cheer on the bare bathers from 7pm.
Derrytresk GAA Club Take Reality Show Fundraiser Too Far. Men Hurt.
After coming around, Fitzgerald won
In an attempt to do something different from the run-of-the-mill GAA fundraising attempts such as Strictly Come Dancing or blue-collar boxing, the Derrytresk club have been accused of taking the whole reality genre too far after 34 players were hurt to varying degrees whilst participating in Splash! (At The Hill). The format closely mimicked the ITV version where Tom Daley teaches celebrities to dive into a swimming pool. In order to keep it realistic as possible, club officials convinced one of the local Dalys to judge the competition, despite being a non-swimmer himself. Eventual winner, Pat Fitzgerald, criticised the rushed format and maintains he may never play again.
“It was a bitter-sweet victory like. I knew we were in trouble when I saw the set-up in the middle of a field. They’d gotten a telegraph pole, lodged it 5 feet down into the ground and a big nine metre ladder for climbing up. Once you got up there you had to balance on top of the pole and dive into a family-sized paddling pool, filled to the brim with cold water and suds for effect. Poor Harry Corr was the first man up and him 61. The screams when he hit the pool will live with me forever. I still hear him in my dreams. But people had donated good money to see this and we couldn’t back out now, especially with the Italian tourists in the area for the pipe-smoking competition. I don’t know how we’ll field a senior side this year. There were thirteen broken legs, ten shattered collar bones, eight hip breaks and five lads are being counselled for the trauma of being up at the top of the pole looking down at the blood from the lad before. By the time the last lad jumped there was no water left in the pool even. It was kamikaze stuff. I’m banjaxed.”
Despite the negative reviews, the club have said they made £30’000 and are contemplating doing ‘Splash! (At The Hill) 2‘ with the camogie team, although maybe using a smaller pole.
Killyman Pharmacist Allowed Local Gossiper Read Prescription Book For A Kiss
Gilroy new what belong to whom
Dungannon court yesterday heard how aged Killyman Pharmacist, Mal Le Chien, allowed a local serial gossiper read the prescription book every day in exchange for a kiss on the cheek. The accusation was heard after the woman in question, Mary Gilroy, decided to ‘land him in the s**t’ after he allowed one of his hands to wander during the daily peck on his choppers. A packed courthouse heard how Le Chien fed Gilroy’s love of chit-chat by offering her his indecent proposal:
“I’d been coming in to the chemist for tablets to ease my woman’s problems and had built up a customer relationship with Mal. After a few weeks, and knowing of my penchant for tittle-tattle, he said he’d let me see his prescription book for everyone in the Killyman area as long as I planted the lips on him once a day. It was too good to turn down. Ha! – the things I saw. Finally, I understood my Mrs Donnelly had that oul sour bake on her. She’s a chronic migraine sufferer. Still didn’t stop me roaring at her in the morning even harder. Gary Taggert was taking viagra and him with no woman at all. Made no sense to me but at least I knew how to behave around him. Drove him mad I did with the low tops and winks. Fr Jackson’s itchy arse was causing him some bother going by the ass-cream he was picking up fortnightly. That fairly affected my communion-going habits. I had a head start on everyone.”
The agreement came to an end when Le Chien attempted to take things to the next level and laid a hand on her hip during the kiss.
“Typical man. He thought I was turning up to see him. Only for the free gossip I’d never be seen near than oul whack. One day he dropped the hand on me. Well, that was that. Everyone knows I’m a hateful warbler in these parts so I had nothing to lose. This oul pervert needed to be exposed. Sure he himself takes five aspirin every morning cos he’s on a bottle of brandy a day.”
The case continues tomorrow when Le Chien takes to the stand to explain how the amount of hypochondriacs in Killyman drove him to drink.
Tyrone Tribulations 