A traveller writes back

by Twenty Major on October 10th, 2004

Got the following email this morning:

While I enjoyed your obvious spoof about Travellers’ weddings, I’d just like to point out that we’re not all weapon maniacs who marry close family members.

I’d appreciate if you could keep your stereotypical views to yourself in future, we have a hard enough time as it is.

yours

Mickey Joe Youghal Cahirciveen Ennis Portumna Ballintubber Ballyjamesduff.

Happy to oblige, MJ.

Drug cheat horse

by Twenty Major on October 9th, 2004

Shocking news today that the Irish Olympic showjumping hero Cian O’Connor’s horse has tested positive for banned substances. While the rider and the horses vets insist nothing untoward has gone on, our exclusive picture show it doesn’t look good for our four legged friend:

Travellers’ weddings

by Twenty Major on October 8th, 2004

It’s been reported that pubs in Youghal, County Cork closed their doors and were catering only for ‘private parties’ as the town got ready to deal with two travellers’ weddings yesterday.

Now I don’t have any reports at all on the casualties or carnage, but wouldn’t it be a great idea to build an enormous Roman style colloseum in the middle of the country, let’s say Mullingar, and all travellers’ weddings can take place there? One half of the colloseum could be a covered bar and dining area for the more traditional wedding celebrations. The eating, drinking and dancing that goes on at most weddings.

But the other half could be an open area, which the general public could pay to enter, and in which the travellers could partake in their favourite wedding activities, feuding, brawling and fighting. You’d think they’d have plenty of time to work out any problems before the first cousins took to the altar, but sadly these things tend to spill over to the wedding day. There’s always somebody who doesn’t like the way one husband is treating his wife and sister, so there are always fights.

The government could provide a range of old-style weapons, like maces, 2×4s with nails sticking out, scythes, giant fish hooks, spades, knuckle-dusters and enormous sabres. Then, for the entertainment of the viewing public, the feuding parties fight to the death. People complain that sports these days aren’t like they used to be, well this would shut them up. If a fight went on too long without any clear winner, the public could vote to let the combatants go free, or they could vote to release the specially imported starving panthers and crocodiles to finish the job.

The money raised from the tickets could go to various public services and the meat from the corpses could be used to feed to cattle to make Irish beef Larry Goodman fresh once again.

We need some forward thinking in this country. Build the colloseum now.

Fireworks

by Twenty Major on October 7th, 2004

It’s coming up to that time of year again, when the young people of Dublin converge on Henry Street and Moore Street. Not for the shops, or the market stalls, but to buy fireworks.

But there are no firework shops, they’re illegal in Ireland. Instead it’s necessary to find one of the large women wearing big grey overcoats and buy tfrom them. They store the fireworks everywhere, in the coat, under jumpers, between their elephantine breasts and one time I swear I got a fishy Roman candle, but I’m over it now.

Now doctors are saying that awareness campaigns are a failure because people are always coming in with bits of their hands and faces blown off. But how can you have a successful fireworks awareness campaign when they’re illegal?

What they need to do is regulate the sale of fireworks, ensuring that each box sold comes with safety instructions (although you don’t have to be a fucking genius to know you shouldn’t hold a lit firework and once you’ve thrown it at a passing car or a group of school children you need to run away really fast) and I guarantee there’d be less injuries.

The fact that kids have to buy their bangers and rockets illegally means there’s a mischeviousness to having them in the first place and kids being kids want more mischief than that. Sell them in shops and half the danger is gone out of them.

When I was a lad and we couldn’t afford fireworks we’d make our own using caps, matches, sellotape and sometimes a piece of copper pipe. One time we got a length of copper pipe - about 8 inches long - and filled it with match heads and caps. We closed off the ends with a pliers then we lit a fire in the little woods at the back of the estate where I lived, fucked the pipe into it and ducked behind a nearby tree for cover. 10 minutes later nothing had happened. One of my mates, we’ll call him Johnny Thickfucker, decided to get up and investigate. Even at the tender age of 11 we knew this was madness and told him not to do it.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry!” he said.

So he got up, walked over and lo and behold there was an incredible explosion. We ducked and afterwards we all thought we’d go over and find him decapitated or something. But no, there was Jonny, right as rain saying “I told you I’d be fine”.

It was only when we turned to go back and found the chunk of copper pipe embedded in the tree that we realised how lucky he’d been. It must have flown past his head pretty close. He went a bit quiet after that.

So the moral of the story is, if you can’t afford fireworks make your own explosives. I think.

We all live in a Canadian submarine

by Twenty Major on October 6th, 2004

9 people were injured yesterday when a fire broke out on a Canadian submarine off the north-west coast of Ireland.

Dozens more were taken to hospital when they decided to open the hatch to put the fire out.

Mark Chapman denied parole

by Twenty Major on October 6th, 2004

So the man who shot John Lennon to death in New York has been denied parole for the third time.

To be honest I think it’s time he was given a second chance. We see killers, rapists, child molesters and worse getting pitiful jail sentences. The only reason he’s been in prison so long was because he shot a celebrity.

Let him go, see if rehabilitation works and let’s see if he can give something back to society. Like taking out Paul McCartney too.

Elton’s rant and miming madness

by Twenty Major on October 5th, 2004

Good on Elton John for having a go at Madonna for miming on stage during her ‘Re-invention’ tour.

He said that anyone who mimes on stage when fans are paying £75 to go and see them should be shot. Quite honestly I think he’s right. And I don’t think we should just be restricted to people who mime. I believe that paying £75 to go and see anyone gives you the right to shoot them if their performance displeases you. It would certainly keep the stars on their toes.

Speaking of crap miming I happened to see the video for ‘Dancing in the dark’ by Bruce Springsteen, who I once saw live despite not liking him very much and even with that in mind I couldn’t have shot him because he put on a very good show. I think it was in Croke Park. Or Lansdowne Road, I don’t remember.

Anyway, this video is famous for the appearance of that dark haired girl from Friends who doesn’t eat anything (just so you can tell her apart from the two blondes who don’t eat anything). However, it should be famous for the worst miming/lip-synching performance of all time. You’d swear he’d never heard the song before. He looked like a deaf-mute trying Karaoke for the first time. His great bulldog style jaw was moving up and down but it didn’t look like he was miming the words to the song, and had I been a lip-reader I’d have taken the following translation:

You cunt straw barf hire uh, You cunt straw barf hire uh about le park. His cunts a spire, steven E his juice lancin indy bark

Keep your eyes peeled to VH1 and you’ll see I’m right.

Seamus has no-one to blame but himself…

by Twenty Major on October 4th, 2004

…and his fishy handshake.

Poor old Seamus Brennan is said to be ‘bitterly angry’ and feels his demotion from the Fianna Fail front bench was ‘brutal and unjust’. However, only three days ago I posted this and told both my readers that Seamus possesses the sort of handshake that curdles your blood and makes your skin stand on end. I bet if he had a stronger grip and shook hands like a man he’d still be part of the government. And not an ex-minister who will forever be known as the limp-wristed, slack-gripped man who lost his job because he couldn’t shake hands properly.

I see Newstalk 106’s decision to bring in Eamon Dunphy to the breakfast show seems to have paid off. And given el Dunpho’s fondness of late night cocktails there’s not much danger of him sleeping it in, although the morning you wake to himself serenading you with ‘Show me the way to go home’ can’t be too far off.

Finally, thanks to Scaryduck, who is neither scary, nor a duck, for providing the very first comments to this blog. The momentous occasion was marked with an ‘Arf!’, then he told us how he told Uri Geller to ‘fuck off’.

Start as you mean to go on, I say. I’m chuffed, so I am.

The day I saw Jurgen Klinnsman

by Twenty Major on October 4th, 2004

I’ve told this story to a number of people and none of them believe me, but to the day I die I’ll remember when I saw Jurgen Klinnsman, ex German footballer who had the misfortune of playing for Spurs in the mid-late 90s.

I was walking at a leisurely pace to catch the 15B, the greatest bus route in Dublin, when I happened to glance over at the traffic stopped at the traffic lights by the Blue Haven pub.

Sitting in a shabby white Subaru (not sure of the model) was a face I recognised. It was footballer Jurgen Klinnsman. This was summer and the season was finished, but I did wonder why he was travelling around in such a minging car. I’m sure it was because he was travelling incognito, maybe to try and find some of the Nazi gold that’s hidden in various Dublin locations (but not many people know about it, so don’t tell anyone).

Maybe it was just a lookalike and I almost had myself convinced of that, but I figured there was a sure way to find out. His window was down and the stereo in the car was playing 80s classic ‘Live is life’ by Opus. So I shouted ‘HEY JURGEN!!’, and sure enough he looked around. Why would he look around if his name wasn’t Jurgen? And how many people called Jurgen happen to look exactly like Jurgen Klinnsman? Exactly.

Then the lights changed and off he sped. And that was the day I saw Jurgen Klinnsman.

Another time I’ll tell you all about the time I saw Boris Becker’s gonads.

Is this the breast way to solve this problem?

by Twenty Major on October 3rd, 2004

Looking at the eircom.net homepage this morning I saw the following headline:

Jordan ‘could get Bigley free’

Now I know there are ways and means of dealing with sensitive diplomatic issues, but do they really think sending that giant-breasted slapper to the middle-east will do anything to save that poor man’s life?