Toilet Incident Sees Derrylaughan Tiler Marooned For Hours. Charges For Time Anyway.
An unfortunate toilet stop before the end of work saw a Derrylaughan tiler, Kirby McGrath, stuck in the upstairs bathroom of a neighbour’s house well into the late evening. McGrath was repairing a leaking sink and was about to red up at 5:30 after a full day’s work with the problem solved before disaster struck. The leak, caused by faulty sealant used by a young lad from the Windmill a couple of years ago, had been troubling the McMahon household for a few weeks. Leo McMahon takes up the story:
“Thon cowboy from the Windmill seemed to have just used superglue and painted white over it. The bathroom had been steadily flooding since Hallowe’en. I knew Kirby was the best tiler in Derrylaughan so I had no hesitation in getting him in to fix the seal. He arrived, as expected, just after nine and set to work, promising to grout a few tiles as well which had given way recently. I arrived back at five to find out how much I owed him and didn’t McGrath have it mended and was tidying up, such is his perfection. I was a bit surprised to hear him still tramping about upstairs at six o’clock though. I told the wife to dish the dinner out anyway. Half six came and there was still this commotion upstairs. I put it down to Kirby perhaps finding a few more loose tiles.”
The McMahon family became alarmed when eight o’clock came and passed and the same futtering about was heard above them.
“It was getting beyond a joke to be honest and I was concerned for Kirby’s wife and young family who were probably waiting for him to return with bread for the table. Time was money for me too. At a quarter to nine I was about to head upstairs to see what the problem was, only to be met with Kirby bounding down telling me he was finally finished. I gave him the money he initially asked for as well as the extra time added on. He speedily ran out which I found a bit odd as he’s usually a talkative lad. It was only after inspecting the job that it became obvious what the delay was. Thon hoor Kirby had made a last minute toilet stop at half five and sure wouldn’t the thing not flush. He must’ve spent three hours flushing that toilet to get rid of it. The toilet roll was piled up beyond the rim of the basin. The dirty bastard left some mess and smell, and charged me for it. Then didn’t the toilet flood.”
McGrath refused to take responsibility for the incident but did admit he had a big feed of black pudding that morning before he left the house.
McMahon’s bathroom that night
New Reality TV Show For Benburb. ‘Wreckin About’ To Air In July.
Benburb on a Saturday
A new reality TV show is to be launched in Benburb later in the year as part of the Benburb Sunday celebrations. Filmed entirely in the area, the show is set to follow three families around for 24 hours a day for ten weeks, called ‘Wreckin About’. Despite initial apathy towards the idea amongst the locals, the Dutch TV company BSE managed to convince three families in the area to take part in the programme which will record their every second on camera, be it at work, home or just wandering about the fields. The first to sign up were the Glackans, one of the quietest families in the area. Gertie Glackan explained their decision:
“Ah sure isn’t it great. They did a trial run last week and all went well. I was afraid there wouldn’t be much happening in the house or Benburb itself and people would turn off the TV in their droves. But you just don’t realise the dramas that happens week in week out. Didn’t the top shower start leaking. It was some handlin. The cameras were up like a shot and filmed the drip. Then a tiler from the Moy turned up to give a quote to fix it. He said £120 all in – £85 for the labour and £35 for the sealant. Well didn’t my Patsy go clean mad and called him all the fleecing bastards of the day and a typical Moy thieving bollocks. It was very dramatic. I pretended to cry to add to the whole atmosphere. Them Dutch ones were loving it.”
The identity of the two other families remain a mystery at the minute but speculation is rife that the Martins, the blow-ins from Eglish who encounter bad manners from locals on a daily basis, have signed up to the project. Last year there was a bit of a scandal when Leo Martin was called ‘an oul woman’ by the Benburb Church cleaner after he turned up for service wearing a jumper tied around his shoulders.
The show will air in July.
Fears For Farming In Fintona. Computers To Blame.
Cow browses through Fintona Continental market
Fresh fears that farming in Fintona is now a fading occupation have magnified since the New Year after it was revealed that livestock were left unattended for three months as farmers played out their farming fantasies online. Although Facebook’s Farmville and Farmtown had claimed a few farming families in Fintona recently, the latest farming fads (Wii farming) during the festivities has confirmed fears that farming is approaching a thing of the past in the area.
These alarming developments were laid bare when cattle roamed freely down the Fintona Main Street whilst pigs wandered in and out of public houses without a bat on an eyelid, on January 3rd. A local ex-farmer, who wished to remain anonymous, told us of his predicament after neglecting his 200-year family farming traditions:
“I just can’t quit it. I’m not a big Facebook user but I always click on any link when I see the word ‘farm’. Herself would be on the Facebook and I was just messing around on Farmville. Before long I was calving more in three hours than I had in three years on the land. Sure, how could you turn that down? OK, no money was coming in but isn’t it a great feeling? I received savage satisfaction from boasting about it on her Facebook wall. I invited other farmers onto my virtual land. Previously all we had in common was gawking at the Farmers’ Wives magazine. Before long I was cultivating beyond my wildest dreams. It is far better than the stark reality of getting up at the age of 45 before dawn to red out the shed. I even talk to the wife now, on the computer, telling her about my harvest. I feel great. I need to shoot on here. Harry is watering my vegetables but he is a hoor for over-doing it.”
Pubs and clubs in Fintona experienced a sharp downturn in takings as their most loyal clientele remain indoors farming cabbages and keeping flowerbeds well weeded online. One pub owner, Gabriel McKenna, claimed:
“For feck sake. Them lazy balaxes are sitting on their arses in their spare rooms tending to virtual farms with their curtains pulled and probably bollock naked. This is fecked up beyond all recognition. The sheep are a wooly as feck now. Like Rastafarian sheep. Cattle are bulging. Pigs are just covered in so much shite that look like wild dingos. Orwell was right. These yokes will be running the joint soon. I had a big hairy yak in the bar yesterday slurping on a half pint of stout.”
The Fintona Farmers’ Forum have called for the Internet to be turned off in the town.
Paganism On The Rise In Galbally
A typical winter’s morning in Galbally
The mysterious arrival of a large batch of broomsticks to the community centre in Galbally has confirmed rumours that paganism is rife in the area and has been since 2006 when the seniors won Division 1B which sparked a free-love session. Speculation that pagan rituals were a weekly occurrence appears to have been close to the mark, upholding Galbally’s dark and murky traditions dating back to the Stone Age. With falling numbers attending the more traditional local places of worship, the rise in paganism explains away many of the unusual sightings of nude ring-a-rosies and the spate of yard-brush thefts in the community in recent years.
“I’m not surprised in the slightest”, farmer Harry Traynor explained. “I be up at the crack of dawn and I be seeing these wemen buck naked circling around a dead crow or the like. Then they’d just run off with a yard-brush between their legs. Not flying like. Just running. I be telling people and they’d be saying I’m going mad. Well, it looks as if I was on the ball. I don’t know much about pagans but I found it easy to get up in the mornings to be greeted by heartily bosomed wemen dancing about at 5am. The church should take note.”
An anonymous Galbally paganist told us that their numbers were touching on a hundred. She gave us an insight into their daily rituals.
“Lucksee, there’s no harm in it. Myself and the girls just get together two or three times a week at midnight, set out to kill some kind of wildlife and then just sacrifice it by either drinking its blood or reciting a poem over its corpse. Last week, Mary gave us a lovely rendition of The Ballad of Reading Gaol over the cold body a dying mink. It felt wholesome. Sometimes, if we don’t catch anything, he just grab some yahoo coming home full from the football club and strip him. He’s usually too far gone to remember and even if he does, he daren’t admit it around here. We haven’t quite mastered the broomsticks yet so we just run a few yards with them as a ceremonial thing.”
The Galbally Historical Society have welcomed the news, stating that it is simply an extension of the rich pagan history in the area dating right back to 40’000 years ago when Galbally was the epicentre for paganism in Europe. The society states that on the 6th day of the moon, Druid priests dressed in white robes would prepare a banquet beneath a tree and bring up to it two white bulls. A priest would then climb the tree and cut down a branch with an oul rusty sickle. The white bulls would be sacrificed while the attendants prayed to a god; the branch was then given to women in a drink which, it was believed, would make any Galbally woman attractive to all men.
Gortin Robin Hood Remains A Mystery
Gortin Robin Hood this morning
The identity of a man who robs visitors to Gortin to give back to the people of his village is still clouded in secrecy after a lucrative Christmas period saw locals experiencing their most plentiful and affluent festive celebrations since the area was founded in 1788 by a Portuguese explorer. Gortin, which depends on tourism from outsiders who come to stare at the locals, has a history of highwaymen that preyed on stray travellers to Omagh who’d get lost after buying nails or corn from the capital town. One such rogue, Gerty Keenan, was so admired that John Wayne was reported to have tracked him down and advised him, “If you’ve got them by the balls, their hearts and minds will follow”.
The current outlaw, who wears a Simon Cowell novelty mask, green outfit and ginger wig, appears to do his best work in and around the forest. One such victim, Sally Prendergast from Newtownstewart, described her ordeal when she was robbed on Christmas Eve:
“I was taking the children to Gortin as it was a wet day and they said they wanted to look at the people down there. So, as a special treat, I took them up the road in the Renault Scenic only to be accosted by a mask-wearing midget who danced from foot to foot shouting ‘stand and deliver yiz hoors’. I threw him a lock of pounds and a few of them toys you get from McDonalds Happy Meals. He ran off yahooing. It was a great experience for the kids and they cannot wait to write about it when they get back to school.”
Locals have turned a blind eye to the masked villain as he left all households a gift on their doorsteps this Christmas from his loot: ragged scarves, broken car seats, ash trays, toy cameras that squirt but are missing the plug, out of date tax disks etc. Local PP Fr McCullagh said that although he was not condoning the mysterious rapscallion, it wasn’t as if he was slaughtering folk.
Out and About – Hopes For 2013
We took a scoot out to the market in Cookstown to collate the hopes and wishes for 2013.
“Wouldn’t it be great if ourselves and Augher finally put our differences behind us and mixed next year. At the church the Clogher ones still sit on one side and the Augher folk on the other. There’s no intermarrying. We drink stout; they stick to triple X. The brawls on the streets are now a daily occurrence. Let’s pray for peace and try to endure those fcukers for 12 months.” GERDY MCNABB, CLOGHER
“A good looking priest. We’ve been starved out here in Donemana of young virile clergy. In fact, the last PP was so old he still read in Latin. Someone like the boy out of The Thornbirds would be deadly. Get me up in the morning, hangover or none.” MARY MAGUIRE, DONEMANA
“Bring back hanging for cattle rustling and trespassing.” DAMIEN COYLE, PLUMBRIDGE
“The government to turn a blind eye to women who bate the shite clean out of their husbands. That lazy hoor of a man I have needs a quare hiding to get his arse into gear on a Saturday. Say, once a week would be great.” NOLEEN MURPHY, EDENDORK
“Women wearing less in and around the streets. There are women now with jumpers and coats on even in the summer. If the powers taxed the amount of clothing you wore, they’d be more inclined to wear loose blouses and skirts. I’m 88 but I’d make more of an effort to get out to the shops if the women would shed a few layers. Not the fat ones though.” CATHAL JACKSON, DONAGHMORE
“Mickey Harte to pick players from the south east of the county. What did we ever do on him eh? There’s talk that he ruined his motor driving at 60 down the Annaghmore Road during the 80s. Well, that’s what we deal with day in, day out. We all drive 1990s motors from Lithuania now. Don’t hold it agin us Mickey.” FRANCIE O’NEILL, DERRYTRESK
“The price of diesel to come down a bit in Castlecaulfield. Might as well hope to grow wings. Miserable bastards.” SUSIE FOSTER, CASTLECAULFIELD.
“A traffic warden in Coalisland. In fact, anyone official at all. Even a TV licence man. Just for the craic.” JUSTIN LAVERY, COALISLAND
“A gay bar in Kildress.” ANONYMOUS, KILDRESS
No MBEs Again In Loughmacrory. Natives Restless.
You won’t see one of these in Loughmacrory
For the 95th consecutive year, there will be no MBEs, OBEs or Knighthoods in Loughmacrory after the list was leaked tonight at the Loughmacrory Pioneers’ Dance and Quiz in the community hall.
Initial reports suggest an air of apathy and resignation greeted the news. However, noises since have alerted the security forces with the intimation that there may be riots and road blockages over the next few days and possibly weeks.
The news comes as a massive blow to town gardeners Harriot McVeigh and Francey McNally who were confident that their maintenance of the village daffodil bed had landed them some sort of recognition this year. McNally, 61, was furious:
“That oul fcukin bitch. She sees fit to give a knighthood to Stephen Hawking or make Judi Dench a dame. Well, let me tell you this. I’ve had my fair share of dames over the years but none are a patch on Harriot. She gets up at 9 every Saturday morning and then maintains the daffodil patch in the afternoon. Are you telling me that word hasn’t got back to Buckingham Palace about the Loughmacrory daffodil display? That oul hag has spy cameras all over the place. She knows rightly and is sticking two fingers up to Loughmacrory just as her father did. It’s time to act.”
Word has filtered out tonight that the Loughmacrory Gardeners’ Society will be blocking the Ballybrack Road tomorrow and maybe the Skeboy Road on Monday if it’s a decent day. McNally summed up the mood:
“To be honest we wouldn’t be accepting the award anyway on principle but that’s not the point. Loughmacrory has been ignored when it came to the European Championships, the G17 meeting, the Eurovision as well as being turned down for a grant to build a memorial to those caught laundering. We’re not taking it any more. Before the year is out, Loughmacrory will make the Sky News. Even if I have to run to Mountfield naked.”
Buckingham Palace have refused to comment tonight.
Out And About: Reflecting On Christmas
We went out and about this morning to catch the opinions of the early shoppers in Cookstown regarding how their Christmas went:
“Ghost-oh. It was some handlin. I had a few stiff ones on Christmas Eve but came home early to let herself head out to pick up a few last minutes. I must’ve had more drink in me than I thought as I fell asleep whilst looking after the weeins. I woke an hour later to find they’d opened every present under the tree and ate most of the chocolates. She was like a pishmire when she came home. Christmas was a cold, dark day. She didn’t even comment on the pliers I got her.” JOHN DEVLIN, ARDBOE
“Santa the bastard. Didn’t come near me. Well, he can slide on. Did ye hear oul Margaret died this morning? She’ll not have to do that again I suppose.” PATSY JOHNSTONE, DREGISH
“Ah it was OK. Big feed and all but you miss The Irish News.” DARREN HUBBERT, AGHALOO
“Terrible. I’ve nine children and they just wrecked the place. At one stage two of my sons were in casualty having shot each other in the eyeball with an air rifle. A daughter broke her ankle trying to roller-skate down Scotch Street. Uncle Joe got drunk by midday and vomited over his own dinner. Mark, my husband, didn’t like the pants I got him as they were too small and he thought I was sending him a message. Hateful memories.” CATHY MULLAN, DUNGANNON
“Brillant day altogether. Went to mass and all the wemen had new clothes on. I was so impressed I went to all the masses in the neighbouring parish to look at the women and their frocks. It’s my favourite day of the year.” SEAMUS MCANALLAY, OMAGH
“A buckin book about Louis the bollocks Walsh. What was he thinking, the miserable oul hoor.” KATE CAMPBELL, COALISLAND
Brocagh Man Fights Shark In Roughan Lough. No Witnesses.
Artist’s impression of Davidson and Roughan shark
A Brocagh bulb-fitter, Dessie Davidson, yesterday claimed to have beaten off a ‘baste of a shark’ during a charity swim on St Stephen’s Day in Roughan Lough, just outside Newmills. Roughan officials are now investigating the incident and have warned people not to take to the lough unless they feel confident of beating a shark in a scuffle. Davidson, 46, was reportedly shaken up after the incident but has since managed to calm his nerves with an ‘unmerciful feed of stout’.
“Jays it was deadly like. I was swimming away, raising money for the new Mountjoy Donkey Sanctuary, when I felt a presence behind me. I turned and before I knew it I was in a full blown fist-fight with this shark. I don’t think it was local. It was pummelling away with its big leathery fins but I was giving it as good as I got. It was like punching leather at times and I could hear the yelps out of it after I dished out an uppercut or kidney punch. We both drew blood but it swam off first so I’d say I got the better of it. It was a traumatic experience and I’ve been on the batter since. I don’t think it was a swan. Nearly sure about that.”
Although there were no witnesses, Newmills knitting expert Greta Gordon (88) contacted the BBC last night to relate the story of being attacked by a dragon in the grounds of the castle last year during the Chinese New Year festivities. Roughan Castle Security Officals remain sceptical about the incident and maintain it could be Harry Campbell from Brackaville larking about in the shark costume he said he was getting for Christmas.
“No one has been beheaded in the castle since 1641. However, that could change if we find out Davidson was full drunk at the time and just got tangled up in seaweed,” claimed Lough manager Sir William Churchbottom.
He also announced that you can buy ‘I saw the Roughan shark’ mugs and tshirts up at the lough from today.
New Red Diesel Laws Sees Rise In Tractors At Clonoe Church
Mrs Quinn (76) out for a Sunday drive
“An effin tractor convention” were the words uttered by an irritated Fr Hannigan last week during his homily at a packed Clonoe church. HM Revenue & Custom confirmed that during extreme weather farmers can use red diesel in their tractors to help grit and clear snow from public roads, earlier in the month. In an obvious floutation of the new ruling, it has been estimated that every household in the parish now own a second hand tractor for everyday use, from going to the local shop for milk to bringing the children to carol services. Fr Hannigan’s patience finally cracked after the racket made by late-comers arriving in their New Hollands made the opening ten minutes of his service completely inaudible.
“The penny dropped when I saw Mrs McGrath and Mrs Taggart arriving at Saturday night’s mass in their own tractors. McGrath was attempting to steer a creaking 1967 Cockshut Hartparr through the front pillars. She broke the head off one of them and bulled on through the once-beautiful garden. My maid was distraught when she saw her demolished dahlia beds. Mrs Taggart was some sight. Descending from her Massey 2004, didn’t she get her frock caught somewhere in the cab, ripping the fabric from around her behind. There was some queue behind her at communion. Men who never took the bread were up like a shot for a gawk. No one will complain about the awkwardness of driving these monsters as the money saved on untaxed fuel seems to be worth the hassle. It has to stop though. The church grounds resemble a monster truck rally. And the buckin sound.”
Teachers have also complained about the carnage at hometime when over 150 tractors and snow ploughs turn up to collect the children. Police appear to be powerless to intervene as the roads are so bad around the area that even pensioners justified tramping through the shite in Davy Browns with Christmas presents balancing on the drawbars.
Coalisland Weatherman Sacked After One Day. Dialectal Differences Blamed.
Savage’s one appearance captured on poor phone
Despite three years at UUC studying Media and Journalism, Coalisland’s great TV hope Henry Savage was given his P45 after one day presenting the weather on obscure Sky channel Horse And Country HD. Savage was said to be distraught tonight having to deal with his first major failure in life after achieving seven GCSEs (2A, 2B, 3C) and three A Levels (BCD). Horse And Country HD issued a statement this evening explaining the sudden departure of the Brackaville Road presenter:
“It was a simple issue of translation. Although warned beforehand by our Maghery floor-mopper that the Tyrone accent was the least TV-friendly brogue out there, we were impressed at Savage’s educational background. He got a B in his 11+ back in 1986. Yet we had to let him go after our phoneline almost melted with complaints after his one and only weather presentation. When he said ‘I doubt it’ll be heavy rain for England today’, the nation assumed he was telling them it wouldn’t be raining beyond a light drizzle. Little did we know that in Coalisland ‘I doubt it will rain’ means ‘it’ll be raining, in my opinion’. You understand the difficulty we have in interpreting his predictions. Seventeen t-shirt wearing pensioners were admitted to a local A&E in Kent having been caught out in torrential rain following Henry’s advice, with three having suspected hyperthermia.”
Calls also swamped the network when Savage warned the viewers that they’d be ‘foundered’ if they ‘headed out’ as it’d be ‘tara’. Unable to find those words in the dictionary, many viewers refused to leave their houses for fear of some type of climatic disaster. Two men were sacked from their jobs for failing to turn up after Henry’s advice and are demanding compensation.
Savage says he’ll continue to pursue his dream of being a TV presenter but will start mixing with people from Edendork or Donaghmore in order to widen his vocabulary.
Strabane Prepares For End Of Civilisation on the 21st
Strabane today. Last minute worship.
Strabane, traditionally a few steps ahead of the rest of the county, have shown the way again by drawing up a watertight schedule for the end of the world on Friday. Whilst other towns and villages in Tyrone have received the Mayan prophecy with a sizeable degree of scepticism, the home of Hugo Duncan have bought one hundred percent into the doomsday scenario and have all received leaflets tonight offering instructions and advice for the apocalypse. Driving the initiative is local lunatic Damien McElhinney, a former taxi driver for the clergy.
“You have to laugh at them eejits up in Sion Mills. They’re waltzing about thinking things will be OK. Well, they’ll be kicking themselves when they’re hurriedly faced with the Final Judgement unprepared whilst the Strabane ones don’t bat an eyelid. I have been able to pinpoint the cataclysm at around 9:30pm on Friday, just before The Late Late Show starts. All farmers in the area have been told to have the milking done and land red up by around six. Then the spuds should be on the table long before The One Show starts. The rest of the time should be set aside to tidying the house, homework completed and then baths for the children, and general relaxation before the planet implodes and we’re transported to our everlasting paradise. Them Omagh ones are going to be raging at our meticulous planning whilst they worry about hair straighteners left on or the dog roaming the rampart.”
Although refusing to be drawn on the exact nature of the End of Times, McElhinney says there’ll be an unbearable sound of wailing and gnashing of teeth coupled with horrifying groans of the fatally maimed, but not in Strabane.
“We’ve decided to bring forward the Strabane Community Lottery a day from Saturday as there’d be some complaining about it from this shower, even up in Nirvana.”
33 Stewartstown Motorists Fined For Picking Nose In Traffic
Suggested driving gear for Stewartstonians
Over thirty Stewartstown women and men were fined this evening on their way out the Lisnastrane Road following a PSNI sting on blatant public nose-picking motorists.
Labelled ‘Operation Neb’, the police service landed £30 on the spot fines to the wannabe Christmas shoppers within an age range of 17-81. The action was taken after a rash of complaints since the summer regarding the upsurge of loose-fingered drivers, especially those driving Astras. Superintendent Mark Delilah explained:
“We’d been inundated with complaints from Coalisland and Cookstown residents in recent months regarding the chain of nose-pickers winding their way towards their towns to do a bit of shopping. Children were being chased into houses or alleyways by protective parents for fear they’d catch a glimpse of this monstrous habit. We simply had to act. Intelligence operators told us the residents generally left their houses around 7pm after dinner. Hiding in the hedge, we saw the initial few cars weave their way towards Coalisland and sure enough the first few were hoking around their snouts. Without hesitation we pounced, nailing 33 motorists. Hopefully that is the warning shot Stewartstown needed.”
Amongst the offenders was 75 year old Frances Dillon, a retired knitting machine operator.
“I was picking me nasal passage because I thought you had to. Any motor making its way to Coalisland from Stewartstown would have someone cleaning out their sniffer. I just believed it was compulsory in order to smell the delightful spices around Annagher or the Lineside. I’ll not be paying the thirty quid. They can stick it.”
Stewartstown Residents Society are considering blocking the Lisnastrane Road tomorrow in a show of solidarity for the accused, especially Fergal Tennyson so was fined £60 for scratching his arse at the same time.
New Rules See Polish Scrabble Champion In Dungannon
High tension in Dungannon
There was a sense of unease in Dungannon today after last night’s annual Scrabble tournament saw a foreign victor for the first time since its inception in 1984. With Matel announcing that they were allowing proper nouns, Polish native Wojech Wasnickski (19) romped to the title, beating 10-time champion and ex-schoolteacher Colm Doris (55) by over 100 points in the final. Wasnickski admitted afterwards that he simply spelt out the names of places from home as well as a few cousins’ first names. Doris said he was finding the whole thing a bit shambolic.
“Listen, everyone knows I’m the smartest in Dungannon. I’ve won this thing ten times. Last year I used words no one around here had ever heard of such as ‘ladylike’ and ‘apologetically’. Now these buckin rules have changed and yer man Wasnickski was in his element. I think he was making half them names up. He scored 122 points for Aleksandrów Kujawski. He says it is near Warsaw. Like for Jaysus’ sake. The longest we have is Loughmacrory or Castlecaufield. He then scored over 200 points for his cousin’s name, Benedyck Banaszynski. The most I managed was 43 for Iggy Jones. I’d have doubts that this Benedyck lad exists atall.”
Wasnickski goes on now to the county final as hot favourite where he’ll met the champions from other areas including three-time champion Hettie Horridge (82) who emerged from the Moortown heat yet again, winning her final with the word ‘budley’. Although not existing in the Oxford English Dictionary, local words are allowed as long as they’re placed in context by the user. Her explanation of “My husband has some budley on him” was found to be an acceptable usage.
Pig-Renting Shop Re-ignites Investment In Urney
Eddie Pig.
Despite being ‘laughed out of it’ during the infant weeks of his new business venture ‘iPigs’, Urney entrepreneur Joe McCafferty has turned the sleepy townland of Urney into Europe’s most affluent area after Paris in under a year.
Such is the reputation of the West Tyrone hinterland, high earners in Hollywood and Russian cosmonauts are considering buying a second home in the area.
McCafferty, despondent at the the chronic effect the never-ending recession has had on his homeplace, took a gamble and opened a pig-renting shop iPig. Despite being told that his idea was “a load of shit” by struggling local shop owners, Joe persisted and is now the wealthiest man in Ireland after Michael Lyster and Gay Byrne.
“I just thought the country was couped and had a lock of pigs floating about the back yard. I cleaned them up and started Joe’s iPigs and didn’t people start renting pigs. I’ve no idea why. I just suppose folk were so broke they thought somehow owning a pig for a week might make them happy. Anyone with a pig on a leash seemed to be without a care in the world.
Since word got out, over 400 pigs from iPigs were rented out for an average of 3 days with customers are young as 4.
“I think they then became a fashion accessory amongst youngsters so word got out on Twitter that the next big thing was to have a rented pig. I then started selling iPig pig clothes as accessories. They were like hot cakes. Within three months I’d made £3.5m I think. Another lad tried opening a rival pig-renting shop was Micropig at the other end of the street but I threatened him and then bought him off. To those who said I was mad – up yours, ye dicks.”
McCafferty has pumped much of his takings back into the townland and has built a massage parlour and a castle, opened a Harrods, Top Man, Prada, Georgio Armani and a Chanel shop.
Someone looking like Keira Knightly was reportedly seen down near Clady looking at houses whilst Nigella Lawson loosely talked about opening a cafe in the main street.
Joe’s iPig pigs can be rented for £5 a day for a maximum of two weeks.
Dromore Bankrupt After Bad Santa. Nativity Play Worse.
Dromore Santa was a surprise
Dromore this morning is reeling from the news that yesterday’s Santa visit to the community hall coupled with the riotous behaviour after the nativity play has cost the village £1.2m. Plans are already in place to raise funds over the next five years with talk of the next few Christmases being low-key affairs or even cancelled until they foot the bill. What hurt the committee even more this morning was the realisation that they had hired the worse Santa in living memory and the farcical scenes during the much-anticipated festive play. Gerard McAllister, chairman of the Dromore Christmas Society, explains:
“We knew we were in trouble when Santa pulled up in the back of a pick-up truck which sped off in the Omagh direction. The fact that he was a woman was one obstacle to overcome – reeking of drink doubled the disappointment. With 300 expectant children and parents waiting in the hall, I had no option but to sober her up. It was then that she demanded her cheque up front – £500’000. Our treasurer had booked her through an advert in the Irish News without thrashing out a deal beforehand. It turned out she was a Men’s Club Stripping Santa. After a bit of pushing, slapping and shoving we agreed to write out the cheque as long as she kept her clothes on whilst dishing out the gifts which we also had to find at short notice. We scoured the changing rooms and managed to gather old socks, deodorant and dirty shorts to wrap. Anything lying about was considered. Although the children were a bit confused with the cleavage, lipstick and blonde hair, she kept it professional and only blew kisses and winked at a couple of fathers.”
Things went from bad to worse minutes before the Nativity play was to commence. Half the cast, all male, left to go with the Santa into Belfast. That left them without a Joseph, two wise kings and baby Jesus. Beforehand they were just worried about the depiction of Mary who was being played by McAllister’s mother, 86-year old Jenny McAllister.
“It didn’t take long before the boos were raining down on us. You have to understand how short the notice was. We managed to convince 5-year-old Harry Behan to play Joseph and he has an awful stutter. One of the Wise Kings was played by my 12-year-old border collie Rufus, and Mary gave birth to a melon in a blanket. It was all we had. Well, the crowd started to cut up rough. The children had opened their presents by this stage and the contents were being used as missiles. Studs, y-fronts and Deep Heat tubes were arrowing up on stage. Rufus got nervous and started piddling in the crib, ate the melon and then bit young Harry. It was awful. Just awful. I understood their anger. We’d charged them £30 in for this.”
The proceeding village riot cost an estimate £700’000 in damages. Barns were set alight and the traffic lights defaced. Fund-raising starts tonight with a wet sponge throwing stall. McAllister has volunteered to take the hits.
Sean The Red Boy Wants Nicknames Banned. Soupy Agrees.
Sean The Red Boy yesterday
One of Tattyreagh’s most colourful characters, Sean The Red Boy, has called on people in the parish to use his proper name when he eventually finds out what it is. In a move to improve their chances of getting a good job in politics or civil service, others have followed suit including Gerard Soupy Campbell, Seamus The Yellow Fellow, Tom’s Damien and Ramblin Henry. In a statement to be read out at Mass on Sunday in six neighbouring parishes as well as their own, forty-nine signatories have ratified the move for formal recognition of the birth names and the eradication of tradition family nicknames. Sean The Red Boy explains further:
“I’m buckin sick and tired of it y’know. There are times I go into the job office and I don’t get past the introduction stage. As soon as I say I’m Sean The Red Boy, they thank me for turning up and that they’ll be in touch. My father, Hugh The Red Boy, had the same problem in Tattyreagh and never worked a day in his life because of it apart from the odd bit of help he gave to farmers with horses stuck in ditches. As soon as I find out what my real surname is I’ll be using it. I checked the census and even in 1911 my great grandfather wrote ‘X the Red Boy’. He was aware of his nickname but not his first nor surname. It has to stop. All them Soupy Campbells are the same. Gerard Soupy says he got serious slagging in school with lads filling his schoolbag with lentils and leeks. It stops now.”
Tattyreagh Historical Society Chairman, John ‘The Baker’ King, rebuked this initiative and claimed it’ll take more than a few whiners to changes the ways of the area that they’ve held dear for generations.
“Sean The Red Boy would need to wise the head. He’ll always be one of the Red Boys in the same way as Francie The Cock up the road will remain one of the Cocks. And sure hasn’t he a great job picking blackberries for Mrs Turner from Omagh in the summer. You can succeed with a nickname. Look at me. I’m chairman of this committee, doing The Bakers proud. OK, I do nothing else but I’m not moaning about it.”
Meanwhile, Seamus The Yellow Fellow has threatened blow the head clean off anyone who calls him or his sons one of The Yellow Fellows from now on, or even if he hears about it. The PSNI have appealed for calm.
Plans For Hotel In Galbally May Go Ahead
Artist’s impression of Galbally Hotel
Ambitious plans to build an hotel in Galbally by ‘the end of the year’ by local lunatic, Peader Johnson, may actually be passed in time for work to begin on Sunday at the latest. The sleepy hamlet, which vies for tourism with nearby Cappagh, has been devoid of visitors since 2008. Johnson, an unemployed plasterer, was said to have ‘thrown the head up’ in the bar last week and decided to submit plans for a luxurious hotel to be built on a piece of land behind the pub. Bar manager Johnny Tally was impressed by Johnson’s plans:
“Jayz it sounds great like. Peader’s a bit of a header but he means well and if he manages to pull this off we’ll erect a statue in his honour. To be honest, it’s a bit depressing here. I’ve had the same dozen customers for four years now and even they’re getting sick at the sight of each other. Them Cappagh fcukers have the market cornered with their outdoor natural spa and mountain. Where they got the mountain idea from I don’t know but it was a genius stroke, all those millions of years ago.”
Johnson’s plans include provision for a 10-room suite with gold sofas, cushions, gilt mirrors and chandeliers. A grand foyer will dazzle the eye with an elaborate floor made of four kinds of marble from the Bahamas. The 15-metre-long living room will hold a baby grand piano. The vast entertainment centre will come with a full-service bar. Throw in the eye-popping balcony views of Pomeroy and Kildress, a butler and it’ll be hard to turn down the £25’000 a night offer.
Local convenience store owner Mary McCann wasn’t completely in favour:
“Listen, I’m all on for people coming to Galbally. It would be great to se people like Sean Connery and Gandhi coming here and spending all their money. That’s fine. It’s just that my store only does the papers, bread and a slap of milk. Them foreigners will be asking for queer things like salami and celery. And probably Amazonian camel’s piss. Can’t be scundered with that craic.”
Johnson claims he has a few lads from Cappagh with experience of plastering at GNVQ level.
Kildress Senior Citizen Christmas Dinner Ends In Carnage
Loughran and Quinn before dinner was served
The annual Kildress Christmas dinner at the weekend saw scenes of violence not witnessed in the area since the 1822 McGurk/McHenry feud over access to a field. Tempers had been fraying in the preceding weeks between two of the more elderly locals over the choice of sauce for the turkey. Maisie Loughran (93) insisted that the sauce has always been Cranberry and that’s how it would be come December 9th (yesterday). Paudie Quinn (88) disagreed:
“Her head’s cut and it has been since 1994. I’ve been attending the SC Christmas dinner for twenty years now and the sauce has always been chestnut sauce. Without fail. That oul witch was just causing bother because her arch nemesis Jacinta McIntyre was doing the singing for a change this year. She has a wonderful voice, a much better alternative to the cat-screeching coming out of Maisie’s gob. There’s only so many times you can listen to ‘Cloak Of Many Colours’ in the wrong key.”
Things cut up rough when dinner was served and Maisie’s sauce was poured. Old People’s Home director Sandy Castle took up the story:
“It was a bloodbath. As soon as the chestnut sauce was poured, Maisie gingerly lifted her plate full of food and eventually fired it straight at Paudie’s face, the turkey hanging from his nose. It all went off from there. Paudie made his way over to Maisie’s chair after a few minutes and started pulling the hair off her. Others waded in and it was like watching a WWF fight in extreme slow motion. Century-old vendettas surfaced and the McGurk/McHenry residents bate the heads clean off each other with walking sticks and denture creams. It was disgraceful but it has managed 7000 views on YouTube and hopefully I can sell the Director’s Cut stuff at Nutts Corner this weekend. Savage stuff. Jacinta was singing away throughout it all ‘I Saw Mummy Kissing Santa Clause’, oblivious to the war scenes around her, God bless her.”
Police arrived before dessert was served to restore peace and order. One was hit with a piece of Christmas cake as they left.
Derrylaughan Naval Base Plans Leaked. Ardboe On Alert.
Artist’s impression of Derrylaughan 2016
Leaked documentation has confirmed that Derrylaughan’s ambition to become a world power by assembling an impressive fleet of naval ships at their own base on Lough Neagh are at an advanced stage. Suspicions grew at the weekend following the plantation of 30-feet tall evergreen trees at the loughshore, covering from view any work being carried out on the warships or port at the Lough. This morning, the documentation shows they plan to assemble 10 aircraft carriers, 22 cruisers, 62 destroyers, 28 frigates, 3 littoral combat ships, 9 amphibious assault ships, 2 amphibious command ships, 9 amphibious transport docks, 12 dock landing ships, 53 attack submarines, 14 ballistic missile submarines, 4 guided missile submarines, 14 mine countermeasures ships, 11 patrol boats, and 1 ship for catching pullens.
Worried Ardboe fisherman Frankie McGrogan told us:
“We knew this day would come. Them fcukers down the road have been up to something for ages. I’d a fair idea it was on the cards when we played Derrylaughan down at the Washingbay earlier in the year. I heard some of their players refer to Admiral Cushnahan and Commander In Chief Carney during play. We’re on red alert. They’re going to plunder us first mission just like the Vikings did in 955. I’ve locked up the shed anyway. They can take our women and Brocagh.”
Admiral Cushnahan denied any knowledge of the plans and explained his new name:
“Ah now sure it’s only a bit of craic like. The boys call me admiral because I’m a big fan of butterflies and my personal favourite is the Red Admiral. As for them there plans you have, it’s just some bucko messing around – probably a school project. I’ll give them back to the Rear-Admiral, sorry, young lad. Listen, we have no designs on world dominance. There’s no way we could complete with the South Korea Navy. Their modern ships and amphibious capability with AEGIS technology would destroy us in a millisecond. And sure, how could we get them out of the Lough? It’d be some sight for the people of Toome to watch those ships pass down the Bann. Frightening. Powerful.”
Ardboe have moved to counteract these recent developments by building a big wooden boat with a giant-sized slingshot.
Tyrone Tribulations 