Towns beginning with N

by Twenty Major on November 11th, 2004

I see two men from Naas, Co.Kildare have been detained by Gardai for having €70,000 worth of drugs in their apartment. A serious enough crime, but you have to bear in mind that this discovery was made in a town beginning with N, which everyone knows is the worst kind of town in Ireland.

These towns lack basic sewage facilities, the schools are mastered by ex-convicts and paedophile priests, wild beasts (often referred to as ‘females’) roam the streets and are a particular danger in bars at night time and the men of these towns live in underground caves playing dominoes and Hungry Hungry Hippo to pass the time.

Look at the list: Naas, Navan, Newbridge, Newbridge, New Ross, Newmarket, Newcastle, Newbliss, Naul, Nenagh, Newtown Mountkennedy - the list goes on.

These are places where you should never venture, and even stopping to relieve oneself on long drive can cause problems.

When requisitioning goods or services you should always find out where the person you’re dealing with comes from. If they say they come from a town beginning with ‘N’ you must say “Oh, please excuse me. I appear to have dialled the wrong number. This isn’t the clinic for dealing with prolapsed rectums, is it?”

Lastly, never buy drugs from anyone who comes from an ‘N’ town. These people hallucinate on the white stuff that comes out of the stalk of a dandelion. What the fuck do they know about real drugs?

You have been warned.

Twenty Major answers

by Twenty Major on November 10th, 2004

I saw that somebody came to my site having searched Google for this phrase: how to fucking clean the dublin spire.

As it was a random collection of words on this site which gave me first position for such a search I feel I have a duty to provide the searcher with the answer he or she was looking for.

So here goes: With a big fucking ladder and a cloth.

You’re welcome.

Five places in Ireland worse than Dublin

by Twenty Major on November 10th, 2004

I see my old chum, and by ‘old chum’ I mean ‘fuckwitted cocksucker’, on Dublin Sucks has disabled comments on his blog. That leaves him free to say what he wants about the town without giving anyone the right of reply. He seems to have totally missed the fact that the comments are by far the most interesting and entertaining thing about his site.

Still, he should consider himself lucky. There are plenty of worse places he could be living in Ireland. Here are five places in Ireland that are far worse than Dublin.

Drogheda: There’s a big river and some hills. The people talk like cartoon characters and there’s an underlying stink of piss which gets into your clothes, your hair, your long grey beard. The people are friendly enough when they can spare a few minutes. They spend most of their time plotting elaborate schemes regarding the invasion and capture of Dundalk. So far they’ve made no firm plans and although Sticky McNamee once laid a curly turd outside the ESB shop in Dundalk’s main shopping street there’s still a lot of work to be done.

Clonmel: Walk into a pub in Clonmel on your first visit and it’s like going back to the old west. Not Galway, but goldrush times. People with less teeth than feet will stop and stare, adjusting their tracksuits and stamping on the ground like unsettled horses. The people of Clonmel exist soley for the purpose of growing apples to make Bulmer’s cider. Every single meal involves apples in some shape or form. Fried, stewed, baked, roasted, sauteed, poached - and as much as Drogheda stinks of piss, Clonmel’s people have an almost green hue to their skin from their consumption of the fruit. They hate the French and think Granny Smith should be Minister for Justice.

Bray: It’s not just coincidence that this town is named after the noise a donkey makes. Having spent some time working there in the mid 90s I can safely say it’s one of those places I’d never go back to again. It’s not so much the place itself, or the people, but just the feeling of wanting to vomit every time I arrived at the DART station. Lots of times I did vomit in the vain hope I’d get barred from the town but sadly the people I vomited on were just regular folk and not important enough to make anti-social behaviour banning orders on me. Luckily for me I got a job picking the corn out of dog’s poo and was able to escape.

Mallow: The only reason anyone goes to Mallow is to change trains. Not even the fact the gooey substance used in Kimberleys, Mikados and Coconut Creams was invented there can save it.

Callan: If you’ve never been to the town of Callan in County Kilkenny you should count yourself lucky. It is without doubt the most horrific town in all of Ireland. It’s like something from a Steven King novel. You can’t quite put your finger on it but there lurks a sense of menace and foreboding. I once had the misfortune of having car troubles which meant a stop in Callan on a Saturday morning. As we waited for the slack-jawed mechanic to fix the problem myself and my beautiful companion had a cup of coffee in a small pub. I swear I could smell the corpses in the cellar.

After a most uncomfortable two hour wait we got the car and continued our journey, only to realise the mechanic had fixed the wrong thing entirely. We didn’t go back and nursed the car to Dublin. Callan is the sort of place people go missing, but you don’t hear about it. I suspect the residents feast upon the bodies as they carry out pagan rituals on the GAA pitch. I’m quite sure some of them eat their young too. Avoid at all costs.

So there are five places worse than Dublin. I’d like to see the Dublin Sucks guy move to Callan though. Things would go very quiet on his blog, I’m sure.

Guinness giving away free pints

by Twenty Major on November 9th, 2004

In a bid to lure customers back to the pubs it seems Guinness are going to give away up to a quarter of a million free pints. What you do is sign up as a ‘Guinness regular’ in your local and the publican will then furnish you with two free tankards of the black stuff.

I have to say I’m all in favour of it. Free pints are the best kind of pints there are and quite frankly, given how much we pay for a pint on a regular basis I’m a little disappointed that they’re only giving away two to each person. I did some guesstimates as to how much money I’ve spent on Guinness in my drinking lifetime and it comes to over €20,000. That’s quite a lot.

Think of all the other things I could have done: Gone on a round the world cruise, had 4 people killed by Johnny Triggers (our local assassin), bought a car, bought over 2,000,000 fizzy cola bottles, lit 400 cigars with €50 notes, flown to Switzerland and done a poo on Phil Collins’ driveway, bought a full page advert in The Irish Times which says “ULYSSES IS INCOMPREHENSIBLE CRAP” and sent dozens of copies to Senator Norris, sponsored a load of kid’s football teams with the word ‘Cunt’ on their jerseys, taken part in one of those ’starving kids in Africa’ schemes where I could have bought a load of starving kids in Uganda and fed them to other starving kids in Ethiopia, set up a pirate radio station which played ‘Tarzan Boy’ by Baltimora over and over again, bought a number of helper monkeys which I could have trained as attack monkeys and annexed Offaly from the Republic.

Considering all the things I’ve given up for Guinness I think I deserve more than two free pints. Don’t you?

Hangovers

by Twenty Major on November 8th, 2004

You would think with all the medical know-how and science we have at our dispoasal that somebody would have come up with something that would cure a hangover instantly.

Actually, they have. It’s called morphine but the poxy government here won’t let us have it. In far eastern countries chewable morphine is readily available in chemists and from street vendors, but the Irish government objects to adults having control over their own lives. They’d rather spend the people’s money on wining and dining and rent boys than give something back to the people.

I read last week that the tax income this year was €2bn more than they expected? That’s rather a lot, don’t you think? Those fuckers are ripping us off and I demand something in return.

I want morphine. I want it now and if you don’t give it to me, Bertie, I’m going to tell everyone about that time I saw you in the Phoenix Park with Shirley Temple Bar and an industrial sized tub of lard.

Bastards

by Twenty Major on November 5th, 2004

I had a fantastic rant all done up this morning but couldn’t post it because blogger was fucked. I suspect there were lots of ‘heygeorgeisn’tthatbad.blogspot.com’ blogs being set up.

Naturally I blame Dick Cheney and the Republican administration for this. And John Noakes. And Larry Gogan. And Father Michael Cleary.

Anyway, I might post it tomorrow. It was something to do with Samantha Mumba. Betcha can’t wait.

10 bigger cunts than George W Bush

by Twenty Major on November 4th, 2004

While the world, and the half of America with a brain, mourns the fact that a second term for Dubya will lead to us to Armageddon, let’s try and think positive. Here’s Twenty Major’s list of 10 cunts who are worse than George W Bush.

1 - Ron the barman: Ron is the barman at my local pub. He is the grumpiest cunt alive and in the 15 years I’ve been going to that bar I’ve never seen him smile. Every time I go in it’s like the first time. I always drink Guinness but he always asks me what I want. He is also fat and bald and I suspect he takes special holidays to Thailand to ‘meet’ young people.

2 - Michael McDowell: Right-wing Irish politician whose campaign headquarters used to be on Rathgar Road in Dublin. Not so much of a crime there but the house he had his office in was a disgustingly modern piece of shit on a road with gorgeous Victorian buildings. He also hates everyone apart from his own family, and I’m told he even hates them sometimes. Allegedly. He will not go out for a meal to a Chinese/Italian/Nigerian/Japanese/[insert any foreign nationality here] restaurant because he knows he’d get a spunk surprise if the chef knew the meal was for him.

3 - Phil Collins: Slap-headed wanker who used to be a drummer with Genesis. When Peter Gabriel left he obviously had pictures of the other two from the band fellating each other as he then became lead singer. He thinks he’s a cheeky, chirpy Cockney but he’s actually a fucking cunt whose music should be wiped off the face of the earth, with a cloth made from Collins’ skin and entrails.

4 - Mark Cagney: Former 2FM DJ and now presenter of Ireland AM on TV3. He simpers, he makes little pursed lip faces when he doesn’t like something and he wears immaculately pressed denim jeans. I don’t think I need to go on.

5 - God: What sort of a cunt sends his only son down from heaven, where there are large bowls full of peanut M&Ms and naked angels that look like Angelina Jolie, to piss around for 30 years then spend 3 years making everyone think he’s as mad as the old lady on O’Connell Street and for him to end up being crucified and tortured to to death? A fucking big cunt, that’s who.

6 - Ronnie Corbett: If his name was Derek he’d never have made it. Short-arsed, Pringle jumper wearing ‘comedian’ who latched onto the genius that was Ronnie Barker. I can still remember the first time I ever wanted to headbutt a television. It was when he was telling one of his little jokes on that show when he sat on his own in the big black chair, chuckling his way through it like some kind of window-licking special school attendee. I regularly want to headbutt the TV now, but that was a first for me.

7 - Jack Charlton: Nearly everyone loved the big, gruff Englishman because he got us to a couple of World Cups with the most motley bunch of players ever seen. What that papered over was the fact he had the manners of a goat, all the personality of a rotting corpse and the football we played was like watching Rotherham crossed with London Irish. His reign also gave way to the cringe worthy “Olé, Olé, Olé” chant which people used to sing everywhere, especially coming home from the pub. The cunts.

8 - Louis Walsh: He ‘gave’ us Boyzone. He ‘gave’ us Westlife. He ‘gave’ us Samantha Mumba. Now he’s giving us a new boy band called ‘Men R Guyz!’. I’d like to give him Spina Bifida. Bastard.

9 - Brian Kennedy: Norn Irish singer who sings like his bollocks are caught in a vice - although I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he liked that kind of thing. His voice has a special quality that makes his songs even more insipid than they were to begin with. Recently wrote a book about some boy who has a gay affair with a priest. I bought the book, used the pages to wipe my arse with after a night of Guinness and a kebab and posted them back to him. I never did get a reply.

10 - Sooty: Yellow puppet cunt who spoke in whispers that only his ‘handler’ could hear. It’s now well known that he ran a crack cocaine ring with Sweep and pimped Sue to Podge and Rodge, Captain Scarlett and countless other puppet celebrities. Now lives on a remote island in the Carribean and spends his days counting his filthy earnings while a bearded man repeatedly fists him.

Thank you, Democrats.

by Twenty Major on November 3rd, 2004

Thank you Democrats for ensuring Hilary got her run at the White House by choosing Herman fucking Munster as your candidate.

I’m sure another four years of Bush will be worth it.

Irresponsibility

by Twenty Major on November 2nd, 2004

I don’t know exactly how the average psyche of Dubliners is so fucked up, but I suspect that eight weeks of reading Dubloon’s weblog is to blame.

Today I offer proof that Dubliners are quite literally starving their fellow countrymen of air. Let’s look at the statistic. Dublin has a rising population of 1,250,000 people from a national total of 3,500,000. This means that in this one pocket of the country the people that live there are breathing more than 1/3 of the air required to keep the population alive.

Without blatant disregard for the people outside ‘the pale’ (a mythical area which harks back to ancient times when Dubliners roamed on all fours devouring babies and little innocent lambs) they continue to inhale and exhale with impunity. It’s not difficult to see how this affects the other people of Ireland. Elderly folk, sick people, the poor refugees who comes here to make a new and honest life for themselves and not to milk the system; Dubliners don’t care one bit about them, and I have heard rumours that gangs of marauding Dublin youths are making daytrips to far flung villages to ransack the corpses, flay them and wear their skins like trophies, Red Indian style. But I won’t comment on that, I can only tell you what I see with my own cataract and pus filled eyes.

This is just one manifestation of a fundamental Dublin trait; irresponsibility. You will understand Dubliners, and what they can do to you, a great deal better if you assume they are wilfully blind to the consequences.

Dublin sucks? Not as much as this cunt.

by Twenty Major on November 1st, 2004

I came across this site yesterday. Not quite sure how but I think it was when I was doing a Google search for ‘Hypocritical bigoted blinkered twat’, although I can’t be sure.

Anyway, it’s entitled ‘Dublin Sucks - Dublin, Ireland. How shall I describe it? ‘Crawling with criminal scum.’

It appears to be written by an American of some kind, possibly a Canadian (we don’t get to know much about the author), who’s living and working in Dublin. He regales us, without any kind of wit or style, with stories of how terrible Dublin is and how vile and horrid Dubliners are.

Here are some of the terrible things he reports>

He takes a number 77 bus and is shocked when he sees somebody smoking on the bus. Imagine. It’d be like going to Harlem and being shocked to see a black person. The number 77 bus goes from the city centre to one of the poorest areas of the city. You take a subway or a bus from Manhattan to a poor area of New York and if somebody smoking is the worst thing you see then I’ll be a monkey’s uncle

He claims Dublin people are racist. Granted there’s some truth to that, but people are racist everywhere and it’s a bit rich coming from somebody whose country boasts the KKK, Nascar racing loving rednecks, constant crime against minorities in big cities and whose treatment of the black population continues to be shameful and ignorant

Restaurant prices are too high, he moans. If you can’t afford to eat out, don’t eat out. You can’t complain about it though. It’d be like me complaining that the price of Jaguar cars is too high. I can’t afford one but that’s no reason to mouth off.

According to the author Dublin seems to have invented petty crime. There’s graffiti and vandalism. Of course these things don’t exist in any other city in the world. Certainly not LA, for example, where graffiti marks the territory of gun-toting gangs who spend their days shooting indiscriminately at people as they drive around the city high on crack, but a scribbling on a wall or somebody’s bicycle being damaged is far worse than getting an Uzi clip in the head.

He pontificates about organised begging. This from a man whose country is home to the largest organised crime syndicates in the world. The hypocrisy is frightening

He has pictorial evidence of somebody dropping litter. Good Lord, how will we ever cope? I totally agree that people who drop litter and ill-mannered oiks, but to try and pass this off as a problem unique to Dublin is a specious argument.

More pictures show an ugly alley located ‘just 50 yards from Dublin’s main thoroughfare’. Is there some kind of law that says alleys close to main thoroughfares have to be picturesque and beautiful? In most major cities in the world alleys are pretty ugly, full of tramps, ‘dumpsters’ and mangy cats. It’s not just Dublin.

He complains that Dublin has a high crime rate, then mocks as shopkeepers try to make life more difficult for thieves by adding security tags to wine bottles. Moron.

He sees a man who owns a dog in the off-licence section of a supermarket. Indisputable proof that every single person is a hopeless alcholic. We all beat our wives and children too, you know.

He complains that people might miss their bus or plane because a clock on O’Connell Bridge showed the wrong time. I say if people don’t have the €5 it costs to buy a cheap digital watch or the inginuity to stop and ask somebody the time then they deserve to miss their flight.

There’s more for you to feast your eyes on, if you can be bothered. For somebody who is quick to pour scorn on Irish people for their lack of manners, hospitality and charm his weblog is nothing more than a crude, humourless, one-sided and racist diatribe. Yes, Dublin has problems, but so does any city. That doesn’t mean it’s the piss-stained hole this half-wit thinks it is.

Maybe he wonders why people are unfriendly but if his attitude in real life is anything like it is on his blog then it’s no surprise he’s not enjoying his time in Dublin. I suspect he’d find fault with Utopia.