Strabane’s deadly rivals on the field and life in general, Urney, made a double announcement this morning after their tourism office confirmed the townland is to be twinned with Megan McKenna. Additionally, the parish are to ask the reality TV and Strabane-hating star to turn on their Christmas lights in 2016.
McKenna, who angrily revealed her distaste for the Strabanese people on Saturday night before hopping on an Easyjet to London to tell her friends about the savages she encountered in west Tyrone, is the first person to be twinned with another town, highlighting the high regard she is held in around the greater Urney area.
Urney mayor Seamus McGlattery added:
“This McKenna blade is a sound judge. She’s just vocalising what we Urneyites have known for centuries – the Strabanese are a sub-standard breed. And she was only there for a couple of hours. She’s a shrewd character and we’re happy to have her turn on our lights this Christmas. We’ve never had lights before, and sometimes we forego Christmas completely, but by God we will go all out this year.”
McGlattery confirmed that the townland committee stopped short of renaming the Urney Road ‘McKenna Lane’ but revealed they’ll reconsider the decision on an annual basis as long as the Celebrity Big Brother star maintains her verbal war on Strabane for another few months.
“To be honest, none of us had heard of this girl until Sunday morning but sure wasn’t that the same with Moses, Elvis and Pele. These people announce their greatness on the world with one piece on genius and that McKenna girl just had her Mount Sinai moment at the weekend.”
Urney Ladies GFC have decided to rename their team ‘Urney St Megan’s’ for the coming year as a mark of respect and gratitude.
A Donaghmore-born director has been put on gardening leave after ‘artistic differences’ during the filming for the new James Bond film, due to be released in 2017.
Kieran ‘Coco’ Grimes has since admitted to not having watched any of the previous Bond films as well as revealing he hasn’t directed a movie since his ill-fated production of his local youth club’s play ‘Reservoir Dogs’ in 2001 which left half the town in upturned and in flames.
Grimes (51) assumed complete control over the new Bond instalment, including making several radical alterations to the script and abandoning the iconic Aston Martin for a white van.
One of the main actors revealed how unworkable the new script was:
“Grimes had been given an unlimited budget and all the biggest stars but he decided to have Bond killed off after 10 minutes from pneumonia. Then the rest of the film was just about the wake, the funeral and then mourners drinking in the pub after the funeral. We had all these A-List actors just standing about getting full in a pub in London. There were a few fights alright between the celebrities but that was just normal drunken stuff. It would have flopped.”
Grimes accepted his fate but fumed at the lack of adventure from the rest of the production staff:
“Bond has been doing all his secret service stuff since the 60s they told me so he’s bound to be frail from all the running and susceptible to colds and flu. I was just trying to be realistic. But people want car chases, gadgets, bare women and baddies. Well they can have them but I’m off to do 50 Shades at the Bardic for the old people’s home Easter gala.”
Production manager Stefan Spellburger confirmed the film’s release date has been postponed a few months after the Grimes debacle, adding that the Donaghmore man’s changes – which also including Bond speaking only in Irish and Miss Moneypenny cast as a loyal German Shepherd – will be reversed. The film’s title, which Grimes had decided would be ‘Thon Boy’s Dead’, would be changed too.
Rumours have been gathering pace this evening that Pierce Brosnan, who was snapped yesterday looking uncanningly like Sinn Fein leader Gerry Adams whilst filming in London, may give an oration at the graveside of 105-year old veteran republican Harry ‘Sharp Eye’ Lincoln in Carrickmore tomorrow morning.
Brosnan, who has reportedly been obsessed with Adams ever since he heard the Belfast man sing ‘If Tomorrow Never Comes’ on the radio last year, allegedly arrived in the Tyrone village this evening, telling the girl behind the counter in the Spar ‘I hadn’t gone away y’know’ after he immediately re-appeared in the shop to buy some semi-skimmed milk he’d previously forgotten to purchase alongside his corned beef, Tyrone Times and wheaten bread. He added that he liked his women as he liked his kiwi fruit – ‘rough around the edges’ – before pressing a pen top and exiting in a puff of smoke.
A family member of the deceased centenarian offered advice for the Drogheda-born actor:
It’d be deadly to have Brosnan give the oration in the style of James Bond and not Gerry Adams. Or maybe blends the two together. Maybe he could be pushed out of a Boeing Chinook by the Brits but he lands by a secret parachute in a tuxedo and shouts ‘tiocfaidh ar la’ and then winks at all the women and drinks a cocktail but then lights it and fires it at a passing patrol and then drives off in an Aston Martin. That’d be lethal. A great send off.”
Whether Brosnan is for Clones or not on Sunday for the McKenna Cup semi-final between Fermanagh and Tyrone is uncertain after a close friend revealed the world famous actor is not a fan of the competition.
One of Ireland’s finest clock-menders has been stood down from fixing the troubled Big Ben clock in London after only two days on the job. The lucrative contract, thought to be around £40m, has been handed to a Swiss firm who came second in the initial contract bids.
Liam Coyle (62) admitted changing the chimes ‘for a laugh’ whilst setting to work on fixing the clock, programming the ancient tower bells to ring out ‘A Nation Once Again’ and ‘Come Out Ye Black And Tans’ during various hourly alarms.
Big Ben PR co-ordinator Harry Seals admitted the joke was a source of major embarrassment for the city:
“Coyle’s CV references were good and we had no indication he would do something like this. It wasn’t until we saw a group of Irish men jumping in and out of the river Thames shouting ‘yahoo’, ‘yeooo’ whilst drinking beer that we realised it wasn’t your routine Big Ben chimes. Coyle was replaced immediately.”
One reveller, Johnny Lavery from Belfast, revealed he couldn’t believe his ears when some of the Wolfe Tones songs were being sounded out across London on the famed bells:
“We’d been drowning our sorrows after the rugby but this cheered us right up. As soon as we heard ‘Four Green Fields’ we went clean mad and jumped into the Thames. It was a dangerous enough stunt to be at, what with pollution levels and all, but that music does stuff like that to us, so it does.”
Coyle arrived home to Gortin tonight to a hero’s welcome with over 8 people lining the hedge up to his house.
Following the news that a motion supporting the name change of Londonderry to Derry was passed at a meeting of Derry City and Strabane District Council, a south Derry cartographer has confirmed the existence of a townland in Kildress called London which had been played down by locals since 1677.
This startling revelation has resulted a petition signed by 16’000 Derry people asking for a public apology for the verbal abuse received from Tyrone men and women at football matches and nightclubs about there being ‘no London in Tyrone’, especially in the 90s.
Ballinderry headmaster Aidan McGuckian confirmed there’ll be no rest until someone like Barry McElduff makes a public apology:
“So it turns out that not only was there no Sam in Tyrone from 93-03, but there was also a London in it. This changes everything. Thinking back, when the chant of ‘Oh there’s no London in Tyrone’ was reverberating around Clones back in the 90s, the Kildress ones never took part in the insult and stood huddled together, sweaty and red-faced. I just thought that’s the way they were. Bastards.”
Moves are already underway to plan how the apology will be presented to the people of Derry. An extraordinary meeting was called in Kildress involving high profile Tyrone figures from Dennis Taylor to Hugo Duncan. Duncan has promised to pen an apologetic song which he’ll play on the radio, entitled ‘Kiss my Derry Air’. A statue of Dana will also be commissioned to be erected at the middle of the road in Galbally.
Sinn Fein’s Barry McElduff has promised to wear a Derry jersey for a week at Stormont and use ‘sur’ at the end of every sentence.
Hugo Duncan’s elaborate plan to evade detection in the Celebrity Big Brother house has worked successfully after he was voted out by the public last night.
As we revealed weeks ago, the Man from Strabane entered the house under the radar, pretending to be a boxing promoter called Frank Maloney who had changed gender to become Kellie Maloney. The elaborately difficult strategy was pulled off to perfection with Hugo never once slipping back into skiddily dee mode or saying anything in a Strabanese accent.
Friends and family, who have yet to see Hugo after he slipped off into the London night with his new family, are said to be extremely proud of the Radio Ulster man. A cousin, Hugh Duncan, did sound a couple of warnings for the coming weeks:
“Whilst we’re delighted he pulled off this stunt without fault, we’re a bit perturbed that he went off with Maloney’s family to a few dodgy nightclubs in London Town. They seem to think that Hugo really is their father who has become a woman. We sort of need the real Frank Maloney to come forward, or sorry, Kellie Maloney. It’s just all deadly confusing now.”
Another full cousin Hughie Duncan is worried his blood relative might be seduced by the new lifestyle:
“I thought I detected a level of comfort in Hugh after about the third week. I just have a niggling feeling he’s enjoying the anonymity of being Frank Maloney being Kellie Maloney as well as the skirts. I just hope the penny drops some day when county music comes on the radio and he starts skiddily deeing and eating buns. COME HOME HUGO.”
Strabane Borough Council have postponed their Welcome Back Kellie/Frank/Hugo party for the foreseeable future.
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.
Henry Savage, from Brackaville Road, was given the job at short notice following the unexpected departure of the previous weatherman. He explained,
“The boy who was supposed to get the weather job suddenly backed out down because he had to rush off to London in a hurry. I think he was changing jobs to a tree surgeon because he mentioned something about a yewtree. Anyway, I was in there like a shot. There’s not much you can teach me about the weather hi”.
However, it quickly became apparent to studio bosses that this was far from the case, and that Savage’s grasp of simple meteorological principles was practically non-existent.
“We had a couple of wee thunderstorms over the weekend there”, said programme scheduler Moira McGurk, “And Savage told viewers that it was because ‘the clouds kept banging together’. For the love of God”.
The live broadcast continued, with Savage instructing,
“Thon trees in Parkanaur are making lots of wind tonight, so wrap up tight. And if you do see the thunderstorm coming, just rush out of the house and start screaming at it. They frighten easily and it’ll probably just move off to the next town”.
In his defence, Savage barked:
“All that stuff about the high fronts and the low fronts is just stuff made up by meteorologists to confuse people. Rain is rain. Anyone in Tyrone knows that. No point going on and on about types of cloud or precipitation or some such nonsense, when everyone knows rain is just the angels crying tears of happiness”.
The studio’s problems became clear during last night’s live broadcast, with Savage telling viewers,
“Ah’m tellin’ yez, last night my yolk was acting up something tara, so it’s a sure sign that there’s quare sunny weather on the way. And have yiz seen the sunset over Clonoe? All I can say is, red sky at night shepherd’s delight. No, hold on. Is it rainbow instead of red sky? Jays, it can be confusing. Ah sure, what do the feckin’ shepherds know anyway? They should keep their noses out of it. Besides, it’s not going to be sunny everywhere. The cattle in Edendork are getting tore into the cud like nobody’s business, which means the rain’ll be shitting it down in Drumquin by lunchtime tomorrow”.
Savage in his final broadcast earlier this morning, confirmed that he expected the forecast for tonight to be ‘dark’.
A misunderstanding in Coagh yesterday saw hundreds of people leaping into the Ballinderry River believing that gold has been found, when in fact a local man had re-discovered a lost piece of music.
Damien Hetherington, a 46-year old candle extinguisher from Coagh, explained,
“Sure, I’ve been looking for my copy of ‘Gold’ by Spandau Ballet for years. It’s been missing since my big ‘Top Trumps’ clear-out of 1993, but I found it yesterday. Unbelievable. It was hiding underneath my Kajagoogoo collection. I happened to mention to the lads in Donnelly’s Bar that after years of searching I had found ‘Gold’. That’s why I was a bit excited, see? Some chanter thon big Tony Hadley. And the two brothers in it were great as well, until they went to London and turned into gangsters. Ronnie and Reggie. Such a shame”.
“Excited?” said local man Shaun Donaghy, who was in the bar at time. “That’s a feckin’ understatement. He burst through the door of the pub yelling, I’ve found gold! I’ve found gold!” and shouting about how he was going to throw a big party with wile music. Jaysus, he could hardly speak. It was like he was about to soil himself. Before you knew it there was a hundred running down the street and jumping into the Ballinderry River like eejits. There was grown men fighting each other. I’ve not seen anything like it since that time Costcutters started selling king-sized Mars Bars”.
The rumour quickly spread like wildfire, assisted by the knowledge that Tyrone already has gold beneath its hills, with more than one gold mine already in production in the local area. A variety of implements were used to pan for the non-existent gold, including hub caps, colanders, satellite dishes, vases, frying pans, dustbin lids, and in one instance a car door.
The fictitious gold rush also had a strange effect on some, including 74-year old Seamie Faloon, a farmer from Aughabrack, who appeared to have miraculously re-located to somewhere near the Mississippi River in the 1920s.
“Dang”, he said. “There’s gold in them thar hills. I can smell it. But them critters ain’t gonna get no little bitty nuggets cos they ain’t got the Faloon smarts. No sirree. Ah’m gonna get me a l’il piece of purty gold, sure as eggs is eggs. Mighty craic. Y’all”, before sitting down to an enormous plate of grits and beans.
As of this morning, the pan-handling had yielded six tadpoles, a dead pollen fish, and and an old roller-skate.
After Sky Sports revealed their on-screen line-up for its coverage of this year’s Gaelic football and hurling championships, which features GAA legends Peter Canavan and Jamesie O’Connor, a top image consultant in London confirmed a Ballygawley man has booked in for a weekend session at the end of the month.
Dr Barry King, who has also looked after high profile Premier League footballers and Hollywood superstars, confirmed his client had ‘a fair bit to do’ in order to compete with other Sky Sports analysts such as Jamie Redknapp. Having Googled images of the newest member of the Sky Sports team, Dr King added:
“There’ll be a bit of nip here and tuck there. We will be reducing the size of his mouth and eyes, ironing out the head wrinkles, pinning back his ears and maybe encouraging some form of follicle growth over a period of time.”
Dr King has also referred the mysterious Ballygawley media man to a Speech and Drama specialist from Croydon in England who will attempt to smooth out any localisms and slang.
“We’ll start off with pronunciations of the counties in Ireland. There’ll be no more ‘Trone’ or ”Slaygo’. We want more ‘it’s a funny old game’, ‘take a bow my son’ and ‘unbelieveable, Brian’. Our Glencull client will also need to attract a bevy of women who will follow him about wherever he goes, screaming and fainting.”
Meanwhile, friends of Mr Canavan have expressed fears that early dummy runs of the show have seen a marked changed in his behaviour with the former All-Star reluctant to remove the TV make-up for the rest of the week, even when out for a few pints at Quinn’s.
“We’re monitoring the situation,”
added a worried best made who walked off shaking his head and muttering something about ‘England being the ruination of the man‘
Barney McEldruff, a minor Sinn Fein politician who was invited to Windsor Castle as part of the Irish President’s visit to London, was hailed as a financial do-gooder after he refused the use of an interpreter during the dinner and simply pointed at things he wanted.
London officials had expressed concern earlier in the week that the presence of someone from Carrickmore would cost taxpayers millions due to the astronomical costs of interpreters in the city. Sinn Fein were also aware of the adverse publicity such a move would create and had tried to put off McEldruff by warning him about the floods over there and the amount of pickpocketers there might be prowling around England.
Undettered, the novice politician was adamant he would attend the function as his name came out of the hat during the half time draw at the recent Ard Fheis.
“I know the Carrickmore accent can be wild hard to comprehend, especially outside of Pomeroy, but I was confident I could point at things I wanted during the dinner, like. And so it panned out. I successfully pointed at the soup, spuds, lamb, peas and lemon pie. No bother like.”
McEldruff admitted there were a few awkward moments as the night progressed:
“Yes, well the pints were flying and ordering those was easy. I just did the pint-down-neck gesture. However I was bursting for the toilet. I was shouting ‘bogs’ but the butlers and maids couldn’t understand. So I pulled down my cacks and took the boyo out and pointed to it. Next thing I was being thrown out of the castle by two burly guards. I gave that queen’s daffodils some watering though.”
The Carrickmore man concluded that London wasn’t ‘all that deadly‘ and that they ‘hardly knew anything about diesel and stuff‘.
The release of a new Tyrone-based TV programme may be put on hold after producers declared the show ‘untransmittable’.
‘The Only Way Is Eglish’, was intended to be a ‘scripted reality’ docu-soap that told the story of six twenty-somethings living the high life together in the popular and bustling Dungannon suburb of Eglish.
However, a number of ‘insurmountable differences’, including cast members walking out, have put the series in jeopardy.
“We were sold a pup”, declared furious TV producer Tarquin Ramirez from England. “We were told that Eglish people lived in the high-class part of Tyrone, like Chelsea in London, except posher. Turns out they’re nothing of the sort. The communication barrier’s impossible. We tried putting sub-titles onto the screen for the English and the hard-of-thinking, but to honest we’re none the wiser”.
Researchers spent three hours last Sunday trying to translate the phrase, ‘Thon bale o’ hay’s couped, ye clift. Get it red up. It’s banjaxed’, believing it to be an obscure form of Irish dialect, whilst one of the cast members stormed out after refusing to stop licking his plate during mealtimes.
“We had hoped to broadcast TOWIE with them chatting about stuff like Belfast, life, relationships and partying”, complained Ramirez. “Instead we filmed them last night talking about the best way to siphon diesel out a car in the pitch black without it getting on your dungarees. For two hours. Solid. And that was just the girls. It’s not going well. And they seem to be calling us all sorts of unpronounceable names, and I’ve no idea whether they’re compliments or otherwise. The language barrier’s a nightmare. What’s a ‘fecking hallion’? Any idea?”
Series consultant and local man-on-the-ground Gerard Donnelly from Dungannon, who was responsible for luring the bright lights of London to Eglish, admitted,
“Between me and you, I told the cast to act up a bit fancy for the auditions, you know, a bit la-di-da. Wee Hugh McNeice even bought himself a new pair of clogs. But I know there’s been problems. I had high hopes for wee ‘Shagger’ Devine, who’s only 21 but loves partying and fighting and going out and getting slaughtered. That would make for lively TV. But to be honest, I don’t think she was very happy with the nickname and refused to be filmed. I don’t know why”.
It is understood that Ramirez is privately drawing up a contingency plan to adapt the footage for an entirely different television concept, entitled, ‘Zombies Say The Funniest Things’.
A young couple from Tyrone hope to make it big in the charts by launching their debut single which could also put Coalisland firmly on the pop music map.
Using a cover version of the Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers classic ‘Islands in the Stream’ with amended lyrics, Killian Grugan and Clare Toner, both from Brackaville, will release ‘Island in the Stream’ next month, inspired by the heavy rain experienced by the town in recent weeks, when at one stage Main Street almost turned into a river.
Unemployed sandwich-filler Toner, 22, agreed to share the lyrics of the first verse, which retains the same tune as the Dolly Parton version:
You do something to me that I can’t explain
Maybe it’s the people or the pelting rain
Or our Belfast links, it’s fifteen minutes there and back
Disneyland has nothing on our Newell Stores
Tiger Woods once played at Brackaville’s golf course
And our wemin he loved, Coalisland girls are mad for craic
The chorus then goes on:
‘Island in the Stream
Of that there is no doubt
Come see our deadly Spar
Take a lovely cruise on our quare canal
And we’ve the Central Bar, ha ha
And the Yankee Star, ha ha
Other verses remain a secret but Toner revealed,
“We’ve done a whole verse on the parking facilities in the ‘Island, and we were going to do more on transport links but we couldn’t think of a word that rhymed with Ulsterbus”.
She went on to explain how the idea came about on the spur of the moment.
“One day we popped into O’Neill’s when it was bucketing down for a quick one, and we had this wile idea. Let’s put the ‘Island on the map. They were playing Dolly Parton in the background and we both love Dolly so what better way to big up the ‘Island than re-writing one of her best songs? To be honest we were hammered by that time, but fair play we’ve carried it through. We’re going to be the biggest boy/girl pop group since them ones like Sonny and Cher, or Cagney and Lacey.”
Grugan, 24, a full-time ear defender, responded to questions over the accuracy of the lyrics, saying,
“Aye, well maybe a fifteen minute round trip to Belfast is stretching it a bit, but we’ve got to appeal to the tourists from Americay. That’s why we’ve mentioned the canal, see? And I’m sure I heard that Tiger Woods once played golf here. Or maybe it was Darren Clarke. Or somebody”. He went on, “There’s plenty songs that have put places on the map before. Where would London be without ‘The Streets of London’, Glasgow without ‘I belong to Glasgow’ or New York without ‘Viva Las Vegas’? Even ‘Mountains of Pomeroy’ made Pomeroy world-famous”.
Hopes are high for interviews in the London Times, Le Monde and the Coalisland Post. If the single is successful, the duo intend to record another re-written Dolly Parton classic entitled ‘Nine To Five-miletown’.
A Fintona couple’s marriage was said tonight to be beyond repair after a misunderstanding saw Brenda McQuaid receive two tickets for a Gareth Gates concert in a pub in Dublin instead of the Garth Brooks concert in Croke Park the same night.
Pat McQuaid, who queued for two days in the village for his wife’s 40th birthday present, made the monumental error despite listening to Brooks non-stop for 48 hours on the Main Street and looking at articles on the famed country and western singer:
“He had one thing to do. One buckin thing, and he cocks it up. I’d been boasting and winding up my friends about my Pat queuing for two days, all for my birthday. And he lands home with that boy’s gig. Whilst we’re listening to his version of Unchained Melody in an empty pub in inner-city Dublin, half the country will be dancing away to Standing Outside The Fire. Some 4oth. He’s not allowed in til this is sorted.”
Worse still, a Derrytresk man has been permanently thrown out of the house after landing home with two tickets for a Question and Answer session with Garth Crooks, the TV football pundit and ex-Spurs player, in London. Jack Wallace maintains his wife would still enjoy herself if she would broaden her horizons:
“Come on, it was an easy mistake. Brooks hasn’t been playing for years and you sort of forget what he looks like. Apart from the skin colour they don’t look too dissimilar. The wife likes the GAA and this is sort of related as well so if only she’d give it a go and make the best of the blunder. Unlikely though, going by the ‘Jack Wallace Is Some Bollocks’ graffiti she paint-sprayed on my motor.”
Meanwhile, Hugo Duncan has turned down the chance to do the warm-up act every night for Brooks, citing that ‘it should be the other way about’.
A well known Coalisland journalist has returned to his home-place after a traumatic weekend in London in which he was given beans every morning all over his fry. Ronnie Cherry, who also confirmed the existence of Buckingham Palace and Downing Street, says he’ll not return any time soon.
“Some shower them Londoners. I got off the plane and went into the first cafe I saw and ordered the all-day fry. The man arrived down and sure weren’t there banes threw all over it. I says to your boy I asked for a fry and he says ‘that is one, init’. It was some shock to the system. I started missing The ‘Island already. I then asked him for some tay and he brought out this vietnamese soup concoction. I was nearly in tears with homesickness and I’d only been there 45 minutes”.
Cherry later attended a soccer game in the city which added to the confusing nature of the weekend break.
“I hadn’t a clue who was playing – Arsenholes and Vanilla or something – but sure they don’t know the rules at all. No 45s, only 2 lads on the field knew to use their hands, no reward for points. I got thrown out near the end for cheering any points the Arsenholes did score. Just deadly confusing.”
After instructing the waitress not to use beans the following morning, Ronnie’s worst nightmare occurred:
“I said to her ‘no banes’ and she just looked blankly at me. It’s like it is an impossible thing to do over there as she returned with the whole plate dripping in banes. I let rip at her and accused her of all sorts of racism before I was ushered off the premises”.
Cherry did confirm that all those landmarks you’d see on TV like the Thames, police men with hats, double decker buses and the House of Commons actually do exist.
“aye, we were wrong about that. We’d long believed the English made those places up to make them sound rich and all. I’d dare say the Queen is real too”
Cherry brought home 5000 sticks of rock for everyone in the town.
A man returning from a holiday in London is thinking about complaining to the Lord Mayor’s office after having been treated with courtesy and friendliness throughout the visit.
63 year old Patrick Dunn from Killyman worked in Cricklewood in the 1970s as a bricklayer and labourer, and expected a very different type of reception from the one he received when he went for a month’s holiday in May to visit some of his old haunts in north west London.
“Thon feckers couldn’t have been nicer”, complained Dunn. “What’s that all about? I remember the times when the Irish were treated as proper outcasts. I was fully expecting some old-fashioned discrimination so that I could go into O’Donnell’s Bar in Kilburn and moan about it. I couldn’t, could I? Everyone was lovely. And also because they’ve turned it into a delicatessen”.
In an effort to experience more traditional discrimination, Dunn met up with a West Indian friend of his and after finding a stray collie dog went to look for bed and breakfast accommodation, expecting to be given his marching orders very quickly.
“Jaysus, did the first door we knock on not offer us 50% off for 3 nights and that the dog would be most welcome”, said a disappointed Dunn. “What’s the world coming to? They were so lovely I ended up staying for a week. Evil hoors. They were even calling me ‘Mister Dunn’. Mister Dunn? I thought they were takin’ the haun out of me, but then they said they they didn’t want to call me Paddy for fear of offending me. And Paddy’s my bloody name. What about my rights? Where’s all the old-fashioned intolerance, eh? I was even getting offers of work without so much as asking for it. I’m a brickie by trade. I build walls. But I got offered full-time work as a plumber, a vet, a systems analyst, and a Boeing 747 pilot. I couldn’t believe it. What’s the world coming to? It was a nightmare. Especially the jet lag after flying jumbos all day”.
“I don’t know. They bloody love the Irish over there”, lamented Dunn. “I won’t be going back”.
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.”
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.”