Aghaloo native Enda “Micko” MacNish was admitted into an as yet unnamed Sixmilecross Mental rehabilitation and Reprogramming Centre (138 Main Street, Sixmilecross) to treat a newly diagnosed condition that threatens to decimate Tyrone’s travelling support for centuries to come.
According to eyewitnesses, Enda has taken to drinking tea and eating piles of sandwiches, and the driest buns ever consumed, up to 39 times daily from the boot of his car.
Enda’s condition, named ‘taeinbooticitis’ by Queen’s University boffins, appears to have rapidly worsened during the last three Championships as he avidly followed Tyrone at all levels. His distraught wife, Edna, revealed how Enda went from
“…..doing what we all do – eating 16 or 17 rounds of egg and onion sandwiches and drinking 13 or 14 cups of tea during the course of a normal 17 hour round trip from Aghaloo to Clones to stealing up to 1000 eggs at a time in the days leading up to Tyrone games from his Uncle’s egg farm to fill around 35 loaves worth of sandwiches and installing a 90 litre tea boiler into the back of his family’s Citroen Picasso”.
The condition appears to have taken over Enda’s life to the point where last sunday he couldn’t even sit through his family’s annual trip to Mahon’s Hotel “for that there carvery” (previously the unmatched highlight of Enda and family’s entire year) without sneaking out to the car to swill back pints of black tae and devouring sandwiches and Paris Buns that would shatter a normal man’s molars.
Enda’s wife hopes that in highlighting this condition, other families won’t be torn apart as hers has. Edna made this passionate statement last night on Q 101:
“I know there are plenty of other men and even some weeman and young’uns out there suffering from this same illness. Don’t suffer in silence. If we’d acted sooner we might have been able to save Enda. If you start noticing eggs going missing or if someone in your family starts planting onions all over your land and stock piling white bread in the days before a game or is spending hours on the internet searching for industrial sized tea boilers, don’t hesitate. Do something…look for help and most of all NEVER lend a hand and start buttering bread of shelling eggs…the only solution is to face the hard, cold truth and get that person the treatment they need.”
Enda is currently unavailable for comment.
Mahon’s Hotel is currently offering an egg and onion free ‘Carvery-Cure’ lunchtime-deal to those families who can prove they are affected by this disorder.
PSNI officials are pointing the finger at Urney supporters after Dolores, the celebrity psychic eel from Ardboe, was found hanging from a nail hammered into an electric pole near Strabane. Police said the eel had been gutted.
At a well-attended showbiz event yesterday in front of over 40 onlookers including Plunkett Donaghy, Dolores was thrown into a tank with a stone at either side in the colours of each of the Intermediate finalists. The eel, who correctly predicted the new pope as well as the Great Wind of ’87, immediately swam towards the Edendork eel, indicating she thought the East Tyrone side would lift the title. To make matters worse, Dolores headed towards the Urney-coloured stone and defecated on it.
Witnesses confirmed that the Urney contingent in attendance appeared agitated at the proceedings, making neck-slicing gestures at the eel after it did its business on the Urney stone, with one Urney supporter reportedly shouting ‘you’re dead meat, Dolores’.
Ardboe fisherman Johnny Quinn remarked;
“I can’t believe Dolores is dead. Them bastards are savages.”
Dolores also predicted Aghaloo would win the Junior final over Brackaville Owen Roes, with both sides apparently happy with the eel’s prediction, suggesting the Owen Roes have a hefty bet on Aghaloo winning also.
Dolores’ remains will be arriving home tonight to Ardboe with a Mass at 8:30 pm followed by an outdoor barbecue where Dolores will be eaten.
Tempers were simmering tonight across Tyrone after six sunglassed men and women in long coats invaded a field in Aghaloo and pulled the whistle from the referee’s mouth, effectively abandoning the home side’s game against Brocagh.
A statement released by the CCCCC confirmed they force-abandoned a game tonight near Aughnacloy as there was an Aghaloo player who looked like a decent county squad replacement for the recently retired Dermot Carlin and that
‘under no circumstances should this new county squad player be allowed to compete for ball against your average pleb club footballer. We’re only doing what we’re told.’
Aghaloo journeyman footballer Seamy Douglas admitted this was the final straw:
“I’ve had enough. It’s bad enough calling us plebs and stuff but we were winning 4-12 to 0-0 as half the Brocagh side were still cut from last night’s ACDC concert.”
The abandonment comes hot on the heels of a rash of match postponements issued by the CCCCC in club games involving county players against the plebs. The CCCCC have attempted to soften the blow by offering free mineral and crisps to all affected pleb club men with a warning to ‘know your place’.
Meanwhile a major investigation in Derrytresk lasted 6 hours today after club officials attempted to discover who their secret county player was after their game was one of those called off by the CCCCC. Several players were water-boarded and dragged up and down their pitch from a rope tied to a Massey Ferguson in order to discover who’d squeal. It wasn’t until an U14 player meekly suggested maybe it was because they were playing Edendork who have a couple of county men that the interrogation was finally called off.
The creation by an Omagh housewife of an omelette that coincidentally looks ‘almost exactly like Tyrone’, is expected to take pride of place in a hastily-convened showcase at Croke Park.
44-year old Philomena McCaughey was making a two-egg cheese omelette for her husband Peader, when she noticed that it looked quite like Tyrone.
“It’s mighty. It looks almost exactly like Tyrone if you look at it sideways-on with your eyes closed a wee bit. And I had thrown on a big pile of grated Crackerbarrel that made it look just like the Sperrins, especially if the Sperrins were yellow and a bit more cheesy-looking”.
McCaughey’s husband admitted that the eggy phenomenon looked a little less like Tyrone after he devoured the south eastern part of the omelette, around Clonfeacle, whilst waiting for RTE to turn up.
“Aye, that’s true. I was as hungry as a horse because we had run out of eggs and Philomena hadn’t been to Newell Stores yet. I just had a wee corner of it though. It now looks like Aghaloo’s been wiped off the map, but sure, they won’t mind. It still looks deadly”.
He went on,
“RTE never turned up. Their loss. The very least we were expecting was Sky News and some reporters from London, or maybe some of them celebrity chefs like Jamie Olivers or Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen. In the end we just took a photo of it and stuck it in the fridge next to the Kerrygold”.
The pair have offered to stage an exhibition of the so-called ‘Omagh Omelette’ at Croke Park in place of the cancelled Garth Brooks’ concerts later this week.
“At least people would still get their money’s worth”, said Peader. “We’d have the Omelette on a big video screen and Philomena could play the spoons while I sing Friends In Low Places, so that people still think they’re getting a bit of the Brooks’ magic, while they’re looking at the Omelette. I’m some chanter once I get going. And for a lock of extra pounds I’d be happy doing a couple of matinee performances”.
In 2012 McCaughey dug up a potato in his father-in-law’s field which had an exact resemblance to England footballer Wayne Rooney, before digging up a further 200 potatoes that also had an exact resemblance to Rooney.
The news that a dog has been togging out for the successful Ardboe minor team has encouraged a flood of other animals to come forward and admit they have been playing football and hurling for years across the county. Beragh, Derrytresk, Urney and Stewartstown are only some of the clubs named today as having used animals in league games down the years and one in a crucial championship match.
A Bilberry goat, who wishes to remain anonymous, revealed he played three league games for Derrytresk in 2011 as the management rested players for important championship games:
“Yes that is true. Against Owen Roes I played corner forward, corner back against Dregish and in the final game I togged out in midfield against Newtownstewart, scoring 0-2. To be honest I felt a bit used. I was under strict instructions not to talk to the opposition or to the press afterwards. They also warned me not to do goaty things like eating the grass or excreting all over the place willy-nilly. I felt like a silly billy.”
At the same time a wolf from Beragh revealed he played an entire season in goals five years ago.
“Yes, I’m glad the Derrytresk goat opened the floodgates. I was goalkeeper for the Beragh Red Knights for 16 league games in 2008 and was also silenced by our tyrannical management team. That was bad enough but the slagging I got in the showers was unbearable. They goaded me so much calling me hairy bollocks and all that I snapped after a game in Brocagh and bit the nose clean off our captain. They left me alone after that but I was never one of the lads.”
Two unrelated donkeys, Sam from Urney and Donal from Stewartstown held a press conference at the donkey sanctuary in Tattyreagh. Donal told the waiting journalists:
“This is only the start. You’ll find a lot more animals coming forward in the coming days. We contacted the GPA but they weren’t interested. We’ve now created the GAA (Gaelic Animal Association) and will look for fair play. I played a championship hurling game for Stewartstown against Dungannon a couple of years ago and afterwards I was used as transport for the chairman and his wife who live in Lissan. It’s just not right.”
The county board is investigating the accusations as well as the rumour that an entire battery of hens lined out for Moortown in a 2007 end-of-season fixture against Aghaloo, losing by a point. The match had attracted mysterious bets from Thailand.
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.
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.”
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.”
Despite the the recent Amazonian rainforest conditions and against advice from the Downtown Radio Farmers’ Hour Phone-In Advice Section, Aghaloo farmer Emmanuel Cant yesterday bulled ahead anyway and attempted to mow down the grass from his 5-acre land. The pleas and screams from his wife and daughters were soon drowned out when he started the back-firing 1955 Massey at the access to the field. Ironically, Cant’s father, Aristotle, had taken a similar head stagger a decade earlier during the torrential rainfall of 2002 but aborted the mission after destroying a nest of seals.
Emmanuel ran into difficulty early on as the Massey jammed in the swampy conditions and was heard to shout “get the fuckin scythe”. He proceeded to manically hack away at the soaking hay until exhaustion set in around tea-time and he was physically removed by his brother Francis who owns the field adjacent but had built flats on it.
He was heard to say ‘I’ll not let the fucker get the better of me’, with locals speculating whether he meant the field or the brother.