Eglish Entrepreneur’s Dragons’ Den Dejection
Self-styled madcap Eglish inventer Mattie Glackin has slammed the judges from the BBC show Dragon’s Den after being rejected by all five dragons following his sales pitch which fell on deaf ears. The show, which sees entrepreneurs attempt to secure funding from rich benefactors (dragons) for their innovative idea, saw its biggest viewing figures in Tyrone since the series began. A total of 68 people watched Mattie hit the dragons with everything he had, only to fall short of the mark in spectacular style. Earlier, Glackin gave his reaction:
“Shower a fcukers, the lot of them. How could they not be impressed, especially with my first proposal – the Spovel. The Spovel is a mixture of a spade and a shovel. You can dig holes with it as a spade and in order to shovel the soil away you press a button at the top of the shaft and hey presto – curved walls appear on either side of the spade. I showed it to the lads down the club the day before and one fella said it was class. Not these hoors. That Duncan Ballantyne boy said it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever seen. I nearly rammed the Spovel up his hole right there and then. I should have.”
Undeterred, Glackin managed to pull out two more inventions only to be faced with the same response only on a much blunter scale.
“I then showed them the Bocks. The Bock is a boot with a sock already inside it, attached. I tried it for a week beforehand and I found that I cut my getting ready time in the morning by at least 45 seconds. There was no need to be looking for socks. One of the dragons asked for security to remove me at this stage. Before they arrived up the stairs, I showed the dragons my Spork – a mixture of spoon and fork. The woman dragon told me never to darken their doors again “with that shite” she says. The tall boy at the end of the line said the Spork already exists and that I would be hearing from a solicitor. All-in-all it was a horrific experience. I was glad to be back in Eglish. I’ve already received six orders for the Bocks from local builders.”
Glackin says he remains positive about his future and aims to shatter the local impression of him as a ‘useless oul bollox’ as described by his old headmaster. He is currently working on a ‘Studgel’ – a stick and a cudgel all in one – an instrument you can use as a walking stick as well as a weapon for fighting outside discos at the weekend.
This Weekend In Tyrone
A guide to What’s on in Tyrone for the weekend Sat 6th – Sun 7th October:
Suckin Diesel Debut In Clubland
New Moortown band – Suckin Diesel – make their first public appearance in Cookstown tonight. Describing themselves as a mixture of Eileen Donaghy music rapper-style classical jazz, the loughshore boys use only tools they picked up in one of their da’s sheds. Paddy Quinn is lead singer and also plays the chisel. Francey Devlin is on empty crate, Mary Hagan is on hammer and hubcap whilst the joker of the pack, Red Harry O’Donnell plays the welding mask and spade. More Power To Your Elbow, move over! They will also perform in Cappagh beforehand (see below).
Pomeroy Train-Spotting Convention
Tomorrow sees the 19th annual PTSC extravaganza behind the Post Office in Pomeroy tomorrow morning at 8am sharp. Although no train has passed Pomeroy since the late 50s, fanatics still gather once a year with binoculars and sandwiches in case they catch a glimpse of one that was running late perhaps. For thrills and spills, come to Pomeroy tomorrow morning. No mention of the hill/mountain debacle allowed.
Seskinore Peter Canavan Lookalike Competition
Last year’s Canavan lookalike winner.
The third Canavan lookalike competition takes place in the parish hall in Seskinore tonight (9pm). Last year’s winner Harry Tully is a firm favourite to win it for the second time of asking. Last year’s victory was all the more surprising as Peter himself took part and only finished third. This year’s winner gets a pound of mince.
Cappagh World Record Attempt
This evening (7pm, chapel car park), Cappagh will have the Guinness World Record officials in the vicinity as Peter Hampsey attempts to suck the diesel from 40 cars in three minutes. Using just a bit of plastic piping and a bucket, he’ll attempt to drain over three dozen family vehicles by sucking the fuel and letting it low into the aforementioned container. Police are not welcome. Sucking Diesel will perform their hit record ‘Tramp On, Boss” during proceedings.
Derrylaughan Healing Weekend
Derrylaughan GFC are staging a weekend of healings and cures at their well-being centre on the edge of the lough. Using the powers of Lough Neagh and the mythical curing properties of the Holy River, organiser Dermot Brannigan claims all ailments are treated from bunions, verucas and facial warts to consumption, laziness and having quare notions. Entry is free and only a donation of £20 is required. All monies will be used to get water for the Holy River which dried up in 2001.
Strabane Woman ‘Not At Herself’ After ‘Bad Oul Bug’
Farmer, this morning
One of Strabane’s most respected citizens, 86 year old ex-stripper Jane Farmer, has still not completely recovered from a ‘bad oul bug’ she thinks she got after not washing her hands immediately after visiting an old people’s home in Sion Mills. Farmer, who used to dance seductively for visiting American soldiers during the Second World War for twenty dollars, claims she is ‘not at herself’ at all since the worst of the bug left her system.
“Feck me pink”, the octogenarian said, ” I put some time of it in there. Anything I ate came straight up and I love me pork chops. That was hard to take but it wasn’t the worst part. The shite was flying straight out of me. I’d be queuing up for the pension and you’d just hear the slap of it hitting the ground. I’m too long in the tooth to be embarrassed about it and if others were offended then they need to toughen up. These modern day people are useless with their private computers and mobile telephones. In my day you’d be mopping up your family’s dung every day and never bat an eyelid. Don’t get me started. What are them young people wearing. I saw a lad today and his trousers were below his briefs. A boy like that would have been strung up on a lamp-post in Strabane town in my day. Big dirty boxer shorts. Some bollocks that.”
Farmer thinks she contacted the bug when visiting her younger sister (82) in an old people’s home four miles away. Maisie Farmer, like Jane, never married and lived with her sister until they fell out over religion in 1999. Since then they have patched things up with Maisie moving in the the old people’s home to chase one-time dreamboat Dick Logan (89) who was an ex-marine from the 1950s.
“Maisie said she wasn’t at herself either and had been throwing up all week with the odd dose of explosive diarrhea. I asked her why the feck she hadn’t said it earlier. Typical selfish demented oul bitch. She just sits and stares at that tramp Dick Logan and him completely insane, dribbing away like a child. The smell of pish off him too. Stupidly, I got back into my Nova without washing my hands. Driving home was another bad experience with these sunglassed hoors in their massive cars and a pack of screaming spoilt pricks in the back. In my day you went to bed elated if you only got one welt around the head for coughing or sneezing. Don’t know they’re born.”
Jane hopes to be at herself tomorrow.
Mountains of Pomeroy Downgraded to Hills
One of the Pomeroy ex-mountains
Tension were high in Pomeroy tonight after UTV reported that their mountains were a sham and had always been just a ‘lock of wee hills’ according to the official Tyrone geologist Daniel Durkin.
In a move which has shaken the village to its foundations, the ramifications are mammoth with songs, poems and sign posts needing to be adjusted before midnight tonight. UTV revealed the exclusive as their lead item in this evening’s news, releasing Durkin’s statement to the general public:
“After extensive research over the last few days, we have come to the educated conclusion that there are, in fact, no mountains in Pomeroy. To be honest, there are a few hills and some of them aren’t even that big. I’ve seen bigger sandcastles. These people are deluding themselves. I witnessed women in the shop talking about there being ‘gold in them there mountains’. They even sell ‘The Pomeroy Yeti’ t-shirts to foreigners, making them believe that there’s a creature roaming about Pomeroy’s mounds. They’re just wee drumlins. From midnight tonight, anyone seen promoting the existence of hills or making money from merchandise around this fallacy will be detained without trial. Mountains my arse.”
Pomeranians have reacted angrily to the news with reports tonight of derelict farm buildings on fire and mass looting of the Centra shop. Local bulb-fixer Paddy Molloy voiced the anger of the village:
“Are they blind? Look at them there mountains. They’re massive and in the winter there’d be snow on them. Are you telling me that George Sigerson was wrong when he wrote that song about Renardine and the pale bride? What about the Artane Boys’ Band? What are they going to play now? The Lily of Lough Neagh? I say we burn the whole place down in protest.”
Durkin is currently looking into The Hills Above Drumquin with early indications pointing towards a downgrading to ‘a bit of a heap’.
Moygashel Man Not Fond Of Brussel Sprouts and Christmas
A Moygashel machine operator admitted this morning that he’s not overly enamored with Brussel Sprouts in spite of what he has said at every dinner table he has eaten at around Christmas since 1955. Malachy Carney made the astonishing outburst to his mate Gerry the plumber as they fished for small perch in the Torrent River before sunrise on Wednesday.
“I’m coming clean this year,” he told Gerry the plumber, “I can’t stand the fcukers. Since a young lad I’ve watched people put them in their gob and chew whilst trying not to show the utter feeling of revulsion and disgust on their face. It was a sign of weakness for a man in Moygashel not to like the sprouts. I remember my grandfather passing out after eating his second one and he put it down to ‘bad movements’ so no one asked any questions. I knew rightly. Well, that’s it for me. I’d rather ate a boul a dung.”
Carney’s nightmare
Malachy, who was in a particularly bad mood this morning, also admitted he didn’t really like Christmas and wouldn’t be sending any Christmas cards out this year, even to his in-laws. Gerry took up the story:
“Jaysus he was in foul form altogether. He said he hadn’t received a Christmas present he’d liked since he got a pile of Lego when he was 5. This annoyed me a bit as I’d bought him a pair of Brian Dooher trunks last year. Then he pledged not to reply to cards he received as the majority were a shower of miserable bastards the rest of the year who’d cross the street if they saw you coming. Just when I thought he was finished he said he didn’t believe in Jesus anyway and says there’s no way yer woman rode on a donkey with her nine months pregnant in the depths of winter.”
Malachy repeated the message to Mrs Carney on arriving home, only to be met with an avalanche of abuse about ‘acting the bollocks’ and that he would be eating the sprouts ‘or there’d be no drink bought the year’. Carney said he would take a few then.
Diesel 0.002p Cheaper in Coagh. Crowds Flock.
An estimated 40’000 visited Coagh yesterday, including people from France, after the news broke that the local filling station had boldly SLASHED their diesel prices by 0.002p per litre. Queues were backed right up to Cookstown as drivers filled up anything they could to avail of the unexpected bargain at Henry’s Store on the Urbal Road. Declan Herbert, a retired gardener, took no time in stocking up on fuel:
“I got a text message from my neighbour and immediately thought someone must be dead. I couldn’t believe my eyes when he told me Henry’s had cut the clear stuff by 0.002p per litre. It was a dream come through. I threw the family into the back of the yoke and gave them all a barrel to look after. We must’ve taken 4000 litres back with us, spending the guts of £5000 but it was worth it. Christmas will be a bit bare this year in the house. There’ll definitely be no turkey but look at all that diesel. Now I just need to buy a diesel car and other dieselly stuff.”
Carnage in Coagh
Punters were dealt a slight blow though when paying for the bought diesel. At the till, they were informed of the small print which stated that for customers to avail of the 0.002p reduction, they had to purchase £20 at the hot food counter. Eyewitnesses confirmed reports that mini-riots broke out in the garage as families fought over cooked turkeys and Irish stew in order to reach the £20 quota. Shelf-stacker Gerry Turbett observed the scenes:
“There was carnage in there. People were in a bad mood already because they’d spent hundreds of pounds on diesel only to be told they needed to buy another £20 of meat. Tempers were frayed and I personally saw one woman battering another repeatedly on the ground with a leg of lamb. It was frightening. People were climbing over the counter and stuffing pork chops down their trousers etc before others got to them. Coagh was a quiet town and the only bad thing to happen here was when a fella was caught looking at his neighbour getting ready with a pair of binoculars, the dirty bastard. But, listen, you don’t turn your nose up at a 0.002p diesel sale. “
Henry McCracken released a statement yesterday thanking all customers for their purchases, claiming he’d sold £1.3m in diesel and £9000 in hot food during a 6-hour period yesterday. He added that you could buy two bottles of water for a pound today, as long as you also purchased 3 items from the hardware store.
Galbally Man Says He’s Deadly At Javelin
A Galbally boiler servicer announced yesterday that he’s on course to reach the Olympics in Brazil 2016 at the javelin throwing. Mark Kerlin took the decision to train for the next Olympics in Rio after attending the London games earlier in the year with his father Joe, a former arm-wrestling champion at Galbally sports day.
“I only went to see yer man Bolt and the javelin was on at the same time. I know I was high up, and steaming as well, and that may have distorted my judgement but, Jaysus, them throwers were pure shite. My da agreed with me. He said he has thrown children further. It was then that it dawned on me. In a drunken pledge, I decided to get myself into shape and throw for Ireland in the next Olympics. I am going to put this place on the map. Imagine them Brazilians saying Galbally.”
It took Kerlin a while to get the rhythm
Kerlin managed to steal a javelin from the local primary school and set to work around the back of his house, throwing the thing “3 or 4 times a day”.
“I’m not saying it was easy at first. I spiked the neighbour’s Labrador with my first throw as well as other fatal mishaps. Half of my left ear is missing. What? But I soon got into a rhythm and, with the support of my good wife who tramps out the distance each time, I’m up to 15m a throw. The Irish record is 70m. It’s only a matter of time bejaysus. The cars on the main road probably think there’s something wrong with me when they see me hurling the thing, dressed in a sports vest. Well, I’ll have the last laugh when I line out in Rio de Janeiro, the sniggering fcukers. I can hear what they’re shouting out the window.”
The boilerman has started asking for sponsorship but has not managed to secure any funding from local businesses, labelling them “a miserable shower of fcuking stingy bastards. Typical Galbally hoors. I’m moving to Kildress.”
Dromore Man Has Cut On Leg – Fears For Sanity
Dromore butcher, Seamus Hassett, was said to be ‘inconsolable’ after a quick shower this morning unearthed a cut on his shin. The normally mild-mannered meat merchant was blubbering wildly as family and friends rallied around his house in a show of support.
“I hadn’t taken a shower since last Monday and didn’t think much more of it. As I was soaping away I saw a small cut on my leg, about the width of my small fingernail. I have no recollection of how it got there. You’d think you’d remember something like that.”
The leg. Cut not visible to naked eye.
Hassett gathered his family downstairs and, dressed in only a Transformers towel, questioned them on the cut to see if they could remember anything.
“All I saw were blank faces. Not a dicky. Then my youngest son got his iPhone out and typed in memory loss into the Internet. What he said next has haunted me for the rest of my life, well, since this morning. He mentioned things like Alzheimers, dementia, severe cognitive impairment, aging, depression and death. I just cannot believe it. There was one time, in 1988, when I went out into the shed and forgot why I had headed out there in the first place, for about twenty seconds. I then remembered it was to get a hatchet. I thought that was a one-off but obviously it was a very early warning sign.”
One comfort for Seamus has been the speed of well wishers to the house this morning. A distant cousin, Johnny McMenamin, was the first to arrive at the family home on the Tattysallagh Road.
“To be honest it’s a bit of excitement. Not since the town was burnt to the ground in 1798 has there been this much talk in Dromore. I’m devastated at the news. Jaysus. It could happen to anyone of us at any time and if the Internet says he’s more or less a goner then so be it. My condolences to his family and I can reassure Seamus that we’ll look after his wonderful and beautiful wife as well as the children.”
A collection will be made at the county final involving Dromore and Errigal Ciaran to raise money for whatever Seamus has and if he still has it.
Caledon Gets Computer – Great Joy
Bonfires blazed well into the night in Caledon as news spread regarding the purchase of a computer by someone near the Iron Bridge. The little plantation village, which is still inhabited by some of the Pictish tribe from northern Scotland, had until now resisted all forms of modern communication including mobile phones, electric showers and kettles.
Recently, though, tribe leader Cecil McCreight expressed fears that Caledon might be wiped off the face of the earth if they didn’t promote it or even make people aware of its existence, especially those “middle-class fcukers” in Dungannon and Armagh.
“Yea, it was a tough decision but the majority of the tribe as well as a few natives agreed that it was time to buy a computer. Sometimes I head into Clogher or Dungannon (spit) and I’d say to people on the streets ‘hi I’m Chief McCreight from Caledon’ and all I’d get is a blank face or sometimes a punch in the bake. It’s time to put Caledon on the map.”
Caledon’s first computer
Thousands descended on the home of the person near the Iron Bridge as the delivery van arrived shortly after noon, the first such vehicle to drive through Caledon safely. Previous transport companies had lost fleets of lorries by taking a wrong turn through the village only to be torched and destroyed by the suspicious locals. Local juggler Barney Norris told us:
“Jaysus I’m deadly excited about this. I’d heard that you can see bare women from all over the world. I’ve never seen a bare woman before apart from the streaker at the Caledon Heathen Carnival in 1988. She was my aunt so I sorta didn’t look.”
Excitement levels are expected to reach a crescendo today when someone works out how to turn it on.
Tyrone Lonely Hearts Club Vol. 2
Moortown man, heavy drinker, 35. Seeks any type of woman, size not important, who’s interested in a man who loves his pints, cigarettes, Moortown St Malachy’s and has been known to start fights outside the Glenavon at three o’clock in the morning. Good arms for pouring a must.
Teetotal Stewartstown joiner, 55, following a sad recent loss seeks a replacement mammy. Must like biscuits and answer to the name Minnie.
Augher man, 44, hideous looking, obese, bad odour, bad-tempered, cowardly and lazy. Seeks the complete opposite. No time-wasters.
Loughmacrory woman, 39, currently researching animal public executions, seeks man up to 40 for nights of gentle sobbing while shaking clenched fists at the ceiling. Must have own car.
Bitter unsuccessful Omagh woman, 41, wallowing in an unending pit of self-pity, seeks nerdy, leech-type who I can bore to tears with dull tales and listening to K.D. Lang CDs.
4-toed Mountjoy farmer, 51, likes spiders, buttermilk and a good long mass. Seeks chesty lesbian for the challenge. Must have no sense of smell.
Tall, well-built, frustrated Cookstown woman, 40, can’t take any more rejection, seeks man not unused to the sound of wailing coming from a bedroom from which he is strictly prohibited. Needs to tell me how attractive I am on the hour.
Angry, simple-minded Aghaloo widower, 77, balding, partially blind with a passion for pickles and scotch eggs. Seeks a heavily-tattooed hairy woman for nights of passion in the open fields of Aughnacloy. No freaks.
Omagh Woman, 35. Happily married until husband sponsored an African village goat in her name as a birthday gift. Would like to meet man for whom the phrase ‘I’d really like a pair of diamond earrings’ isn’t meant ironically. Must have holiday home in Donegal and Europe.
Beragh Batman ‘A Bit of a Disaster’
Beragh’s attempts to rid its streets, loanans and ramparts of crime has been abandoned after it failed to clean up any form of law-breaking over a two-week period. Last month, UTV highlighted the alarming rise in crime in Beragh since the start of 2012 with a 200% increase in jumping that red light they have on the Main Street as well as a general increase in cursing. Soon after the report the Beragh Crime Prevention Committee appointed a ‘Batman’ type vigilante who was given powers to deal with any form of illegal or unchristian activity on the spot.
“Ah Jaysus it was a disaster from the start,” local kitchen-fitter Gary Bogue told us. “Sure we all knew it was the Lord Mayor’s wife. She has that oul gammy leg from she was a wean and you could tell by the dander on her, even with the stupid mask on her. It wasn’t even a good mask either. No more like Batman than I’m like a cow clap. No one paid her any heed. Despite witnessing 45 motors break the red light in her first day, she didn’t manage to apprehend any. Once stopped, the offender would simply laugh at her and then tell her to go feck herself the limpy oul hoor. It was a farce. She should have been given an M45 or something and blown the head clean off the first offender. That’d get the message across.”
The Beragh Batman
Operation Batman came to a head when she entered the local bar and took down the names of anyone who she heard cursing. After filling two jotters comprising of almost everyone in the village, she was taken outside by a couple of hardened drinkers and ordered to squawk like a blackbird whilst doing a close form of Riverdance as they clapped and cheered. The Beragh Batman announced her retirement that evening.
“That’s the last time I’ll try to clean up the streets of Beragh. Savages.”
The traffic light was last night reported missing with a 450% increase in general cursing heard in the area. The UN are keeping an eye on proceedings.
Brocagh On “Verge of War” Over Chapel/Church Debate
An internal argument in Brocagh amongst the clergy has left Brocagh on the “verge of war” according to local historian Benjamin McCorry. The row was initiated when new PP for the area Fr Davidson told the congregation at 11 o’clock mass last Sunday from the pulpit to stop calling it Brocagh Chapel and to adopt the correct title ‘Brocagh Church’. Word quickly filtered through to Fr McCann, a Brocagh born and bred priest, who used his homily at the 12 o’clock in Clonoe to denounce anyone who was prepared to follow Fr Davidson’s directive.
“Davidson is a Ballinderry blow-in, the bollox. What would he know about the way we talk. I’ve always called it Brocagh Chapel as did my father and my father’s father. I couldn’t give two shites about what the difference is between a chapel and a church. It’s the way we roll. Let me make myself clear – if I hear anyone calling it Brocagh Church who previously called it chapel then don’t be thinking you’ll be getting anything at communion time. I’d like to think that’ll be applied to Last Rites too.”
Picture from the 1799 brawl
Approximately 150 loyal Davidson followers walked out at that stage with abuse from the pulpit ringing in their ears. “Aye, away ye go ye good for nothing fat bastard”, Fr McCann reportedly shouted at a prominent Brocagh businessman as he left his seat which resulted in a wrestling session in the aisle between at least a dozen opposing parishioners. A shot was reportedly heard outside soon after, though many think it was just a timed gun-scare for chasing crows from the local strawberry field. Historian Benjamin McCorry predicted that this was just the start of it:
“There’s a history of strife over words in Brocagh. In 1799 there was a massive brawl up near Mountjoy Castle over whether it was ‘Lough Neagh’ or ‘Lock Neagh’. The resulting mini-townland war almost wiped out the whole population. I’d fear for the future. We all know that Fr Davidson is officially correct but that doesn’t mean we should change it. We still say ‘tay’ ‘flure’ and ‘dure’ don’t we? Anyone could saying ‘tea’ or ‘door’ is seen as some kind of marbled-mouthed uppity gobshite. I’m with McCann on this. Chapel for me.”
Although Pope Benedict has yet to intervene, rumours suggest the Vatican is waiting to see how the parish bulletin pans out this weekend as both priests have asked for a few lines each to rally their troops.
Donemana Daredevil Still Not Back
A married Donemana stunt man has yet to return to earth following a winning “Deadly Leap” attempt at the Donemana Community Sports Day at the weekend. Francie McBurn was attempting to win the “Deadly Leap” competition for the first time having been out-jumped by his cousin Benny for the last 14 years consecutively. Competition rules stipulate that they are to reach the highest point possible for a human as long as they start from terra firma. He best friend and fellow former inmate Jemmy Hagan told us:
“Francie was determined to win it this year. He developed some kind of turbo-injection shoes that just shot him straight up into the air. I knew he hadn’t done a dry run of it as he thought there’d only be enough power for one shot at it. At first we cheered and yahoo-ed as he shot straight up into the sky. You could see the smile on his face. Then you just couldn’t see him at all. It has been three days now so we are beginning to get slightly alarmed. He definitely won though.”
McBurn’s shoes
His wife Kitty and three children still believe he’ll return before the week is out. Kitty, who has the “Deadly Leap” trophy sitting proudly on the mantlepiece for his return, was relatively calm about the prospect of him still being alive.
“Ach yiz are making a big deal of nothing. OK, I understand that if he kept going at that rate he’d be well into our stratosphere and possibly past the moon right now and I am aware of the whole lack of oxygen thing. But my Francie is a hardy lad and could drink anyone under the table. He’ll be here as he has to collect the bru on Friday. Young Francie Jnr does ask if ‘Daddy is down yet’ a lot and that can be a bit annoying. Even if he doesn’t return, he has the deadliest leap in Donemana and you can tell that to Benny McBurn,” she told us, laughing manically.
Kitty McBurn vehemently denied the accusations that this was a different sort of disappearing stunt as Francie is under investigation for benefit fraud.
Aghyaran Pensioners Won’t Talk To Each Other
Hughes and O’Neill in happier times
It has just been confirmed that the two remaining Aghyaran pensioners – Edna Hughes and Johnny O’Neill – have fallen out and are refusing to even mention each others’ names. Due to the high percentage of greenhouse gases produced by the highly flatulent cattle in the ara, life expectancy in the Aghyaran area has remained almost constant since the 1600s at around 40 for a man and 45 for a woman. Hughes (67) and O’Neill (66) hold almost celebrity status in the area such is their longevity, often opening pitches together or attending functions as guests of honour. Hughes and O’Neill are also the last surviving speakers of an almost-extinct West Tyrone dialect called Eoghainish. However, it looks like the locals will not hear a conversation in that tongue for the time being.
“He’s an ignorant fcuker”, Edna told us earlier. “We’d often meet up for a game of bridge or sing songs in Eoghainish but he was always correcting me in my grammar and pronunciation. Just because his father was a schoolmaster he thinks he knows it all. Well, I’ve had enough of his guff. He’s nothing without me. He might think he has the brains but I have the looks. I’m glad to be rid of him. He was always winking at me and making innuendos so I’ll not be missing that. I wouldn’t pish on him to put him out.”
O’Neill was equally adamant that he’ll not be making the first move at reconciliation. Speaking after collecting his pension from the PO, he said:
“I’ve not had a better day than today. Any day not having to look at that maggot-ridden hoor’s face is a good day in my book. I couldn’t stick the unyielding stench anyway. You’d think a woman of that age would wash the odd week. ‘Bini Bacht Gassan Yuru Ata Ici’ is an old Eoghainish phrase my da used to say – ‘there’s no sore ass like your own sore ass’. I don’t need another sore ass to be thinking about.”
The families of both issued a statement advising the media to stay well clear of the row as historically it ends in a bloodbath.
Gortin Man Steered Car With Pliers
A Gortin soup-maker, Marty Og Coyle, was arrested yesterday close to his own house after he was found to be steering his Nissan Sunny with a pair of pliers. Police noticed something unusual about the offending automobile as it took an extremely wide turn onto the Fintona Road which Coyle currently lives on. They also recognised that the driver was having difficulty straightening up the 1988 model. Out on £15 bail, Coyle took up the story:
“I was at my mother-in-laws and was mad keen to get away and home to see Joe Mahon on Lesser Spotted Ulster. He was in Plumbridge this week. I was maybe a bit excited and yanked the steering wheel clean off the motor just as I reversed back. Luckily I’d a pair of pliers in my pocket so I took it from there. I cannot see what the problem is. Granted, it’s a bit slow straightening up and I am taking the bends a fairly wide but sure everyone knows me in Gortin and usually steer well clear.”
PSNI photo after arrest
The PSNI were left no choice but to confiscate the car when they asked Coyle to step outside. He proceeded to climb into the back seat, into the boot and eventually managed to get out when an officer opened the boot from the outside.
“What’s the big effin deal? That’s how I’ve got out of that motor for nearly ten years now. I’d get home, beep the horn and one of the weans would run out and lift the boot up. I’m not doing any harm. I haven’t hit another motor yet. I bet them cops are ramming into lads every day. I’ll be back in her before long mark my words, as soon as I get break pads.”
The car has since been crushed.
Aghaloo Man Misheard Doctor Advice
An Aghaloo snake milker, Ned Johnson, was today recovering at home after a near-fatal misheard diagnosis left him in casualty soon after yesterday’s All-Ireland. Johnson, who milks snakes for research at Queen’s University, visited the doctor on Friday evening complaining of mouth ulcers.
“My gob had been killing me all week. I couldn’t ate a thing by Friday so I visited the doctor’s surgery in the middle of the village. My normal doctor, Dr Fargo, wasn’t in that day as he’s undergoing treatment himself for beer addiction in Armagh. I was seen by an Asian boy who gave me clear instructions when I gave him my details.”
As it transpired, Dr Ahmed couldn’t prescribe any medicine late that Friday as he needed clearance from Dr Fargo who was drying out in Armagh allegedly. Dr Ahmed takes up the story:
“I tried phoning Dr Fargo but he seemed, how can I put it, plastered. I told Mr Johnson to come back on Monday but in the mean time go to the garage and ask for some ice-cream and eat it slowly. That would soothe his mouth pain. They were clear instructions. In Aghaloo it appears not though.”
Not ice cream
We now know that Ned misheard the Pakistani medicine man’s advice and asked the boy at the checkout for some ass-cream. He was handed a tube of E45 which the ulcer-ridden Johnson slowly devoured after dinner on Sunday. It was as the Angelus came on that he began retching violently and was driven to Craigavon by his 9-year-old son. Johnson added:
“In years to come I’ll laugh about it but it was a harrowing experience. The stuff tasted worse than shite. Your man just got the wrong hole, God bless him.”
All-Ireland Final – A View From Tyrone
Tyrone Tribulations took a tour around the country this morning to catch people just walking about. We asked them for their views on today’s All-Ireland final between Mayo and Donegal.
Are Tyrone definitely not in it? In that case I’ll be watching the Eastenders Omnibus. It hasn’t been the same since Peggy Mitchell left. She was some blade. Took no crap. Reminded me of Mickey Harte without the stubble. JAMES MCCANN, Drumragh
I’m going for Mayo. There’s something about McGuinness that unnerves me. Some say he looks like Jesus. I see the buckin devil. Those big thick eyebrows. His eyes are dead inside, like Jaws in Jaws 1 and 2. The wife’s fond of him but she also had a notion for Pete McGrath and Sean Boylan so it seems to be a management thing. I’ve applied for a management job at Moy Park. Maybe that’ll rekindle the romance. JOHN MOORE, Edendork
I couldn’t give two fooks. HENRY MCGUIGAN, Ardboe
Ah, I’ll be supporting Donegal. Them big strapping lads like Murphy and McFadden I could watch all day long. Young McHugh and Lacey mightn’t be as easy on the eye but sure look at the ugly fcukers we have in Tyrone. I’d tackle livestock before curtin a Tyrone man. JENNY ARCHER, Dungannon
And I’ll tell you another thing. Shove that microphone in my bake again and you’ll be pulling it out of your hole. Ye hear me? Now fook away aff. HENRY MCGUIGAN, Ardboe (again)
To tell you the truth I’ll not be watching it atall. I’d be big into the religion now and I don’t think people should be playing things are enjoying themselves on a Sunday. I’ve just come back from tying up all the swings in the local play park. God be with you. CECIL WINTERBOTTOM, Tullyhogue
Donegal – no doubt. I’ve seen enough from that day they met us earlier in the year. You shoulda seen the size of their teeth and ears. Their eyes bulged and they were at least 1-2 feet taller than our lads. Penrose looked like a gnome. I’m not saying they’re completely off their heads on steroids but there’s something they’re eating and we need the recipe. Some big mad fecking new spud or something. Donegal by 17 points. PETER RYAN, Omagh
Ach probably Mayo but here listen, were there any cops up the road? The bastards were dipping last night in Donemana I heard. GARY MULGREW, Loughmacrory
Derrytresk Consider Relocating To The West
Derrytresk Townland Committee have called an extraordinary meeting tonight to consider moving the whole area to somewhere west in the county, it has emerged in the last twenty minutes. Listing a plethora of reasons, it appears that the move could take place with immediate effect or at least before Christmas. Committee member Alfie Fitzgerald was adamant the motion will be passed:
To tell you the truth we’re sick and tired of living down here. For ten months of the year the whole place is flooded, turning the turf to shite. Then when the sun does come out for a few days the midges have you ate alive as well as any flowers or plants you foolishly attempted to grow. Add to that you have the roar of the M1 up the road and those bastards driving the trucks from Tamnamore to Cookstown taking a short cut through Derrytresk, bucking up the road which is re-tarmaced 10 times a year. Plus there’s that noise the Lough makes on a windy night. Who in their right mind would want to live here? We’re getting out. Derrylaughan is welcome to it. Them boys would live in their own mess.
Derrytresk yesterday
Information on where they’re moving to appears sketchy at the minute and how the actual shifting of Derrytresk to another part of the county will take place. Fitzgerald attempted to clarify the situation:
Sure it’ll be no bother. Tonight we’ll draw up the names of all the families in Derrytresk and they’ll receive a letter this week informing them of how and when to get to their new abode. If we have to shift houses brick by brick we’ll do it. Myself and another boy has spotted an area below Drumquin on the map with no name on it. We’ll move there. Listen, the positives outweigh the bother of moving. We’ll be closer to Bundoran for holidays and maybe Mickey Harte will start picking some of our lads. He doesn’t like the East you know. That’s another thing, we’ll be taking the pitch, Church and school as well as most of the blackberries that haven’t been infested with them there flies that are enormous this year.
Derrylaughan Townland Committee chairman welcomed the move, saying they plan to use the extra space to build some kind of Loughshore Visitor Centre to rip off the foreigners or people from the south.
Augher/Clogher 2022 World Cup Bid Rejected
Residents in Augher and Clogher woke today to the disappointing news that Fifa have rejected their joint bid to host the 2022 World Cup at the first round of eliminations. The ambitious project was hoping to see off rivals Argentina, Australia and China but fell short in what Fifa described as ‘major accomodation issues’. Augher Lord Mayor Jackie McKenna, who headed the bid, announced the decision from Fifa this morning outside the Spar:
“We are bitterly disappointed. My committee put a lot of effort in to taking pictures of fields and makeshift pitches, put them all onto a PowerPoint and sent it in an email. Finding someone who could do all that computer stuff wasn’t easy. Although this is a set-back, we will regroup and perhaps target the 2024 Olympics. We will bring a major world event to Tyrone, mark my words.”
Plans were made for successful bid
Fifa sent back a list of reasons why they couldn’t advance the Augher/Clogher bid to the next round. They included the need to seat up to 100’000 people in a stadium, house half a million more fans in the area and general lack of media facilities to cope with 188 TV stations from around the world. McKenna claims this was a smokescreen:
To be honest, that’s a load of balls. There’s talk of a new Subway being built in Fivemiletown. We have this Spar, a Post Office and a few pubs. What more do these foreigners want? We got promises from a couple of local joiners that they’d build a big wooden stand and all. Also, my nephew is training to be a spark and he could have wired up a few plugs for the TV boys. As for accommodation, have they never heard of caravans? They’re prejudiced against small rural villages like ourselves. Aghayaran said they were laughed at by Fifa officials in 1970 when they tried to rival the Mexico bid.
In a show of strength, Augher is today hosting their Horn Dance which is performed by six deer-men who wear reindeer horns. The dancers follow a 10 mile course and perform the horn-dancing ritual in 12 different locations in and around the village, whilst the musician plays tunes such as “The Farmers Boy” and “Uncle Mick” on a melodeon, with accompaniment from a triangle.
Coalisland/Clonoe Clergy Raring To Court Women
It has emerged today that the clergy in Coalisland and Clonoe are to descend on Cookstown tonight to gather vital information on how to court and woo women. Following the recent revelation that Jesus may have been married all along, the priests in the East Tyrone parishes are waiting for the green light from the Vatican to begin chasing women.
“This is great news”, Fr Niblock told us. “The news about Christ has changed everything. If it was good enough for Him, well, it’s only a matter of time before Pope Benny gives us the go-ahead to get stuck into the blades. Myself and a couple of newer priests are hitting Clubland tonight to see how it’s done. As you can imagine we’re rightly out of shape. I get very nervous if I look at a woman even from a great distance. Funny, we were practising on each other last night, chat up lines and that, and it was a disaster. We haven’t needed to approach women since we were 14 and back then you’d be acting the hard man and ask things like ‘are ye ridin?’ That won’t work now I’m sure. We all bought aftershave today.”
Ready to go on the rip
Local women in the Coalisland area welcomed the news that the local clergy will possibly provide a fresh market in what they describe as ‘cat area’ for finding a man. 22 year old Eilish Chambers pulled no punches:
“Let’s be honest. The boys in this area wouldn’t be the best now. If you’re approached by a lad from the Washingbay Road or the Stewartstown direction you can guarantee three things: He’ll smell of diesel and cattle, he’ll just grunt instead of talking like a normal human and he’ll attempt to carry you under his arm instead of hand-in-hand. I’m sick and tired of courting fellas from here who just talk of twin cams, diffing and bulling. These priests will seem like Hollywood stars. I’m sure they’ll be a bit raw at first but give them a couple of weeks and they’ll get the hang of us. I pray to God every night that the Pope gives them the nod.”
The police are on standby tonight outside the Glenavon area as a backlash is expected from single lads from the lowlands. Although the clergy will be in civvies, the Munchie Militia have issued a statement that anyone who even just looks holy will get a kicking.
