Shhhh

by Twenty Major on March 18th, 2005

What you need to do is talk quietly and not make too much noise this morning because my head hurts. Ron the barman hates Paddy’s day because, as he says, ‘All the cunts in the world are out making even bigger cunts of themselves than they already are.’

So around 8pm last night he decided he’d had enough and fucked everybody, except his very best customers, out of the pub. Some people were most unhappy, one foolish fool, who had been drinking all day, told Ron that he was going to get him for chucking him out the pub early. The only thing he actually got was a nosebleed as he landed on his face outside the front door. The twat.

So we had a lock-in. Stinkin’ Pete went round the chipper and brought a vast assortment of chips, battered sausages, cod and spice burgers back with him and we all carried on sinking pints for another couple of hours before going home at a reasonable hour. Of course other bars were still open serving the, by now, slack-jawed shitehawks the last of their Paddy’s day booze before they went out on the streets to fight each other and cause problems for emergency services and emergency room doctors.

I, naturally, woke up far too early with a blinding headache but staring at a computer screen makes me feel better. Oh yes. How was your Paddy’s day then? Did you fight anyone? Bite somebody’s ear off? Hit someone with a plank of wood? Have rough anal sex with a man you shouldn’t have? What a joyous day it really is.

That aside I have decided the new comments thing I installed is gayer than a room full of Graham Nortons and I have reverted back to the default blogger system.

Now, I think I need a good fry.

Saint Patrick’s day facts

by Twenty Major on March 17th, 2005

Some Saint Patrick facts:

- Someone once told me Saint Patrick was Welsh. I told him not to be stupid and that Welsh people weren’t real.

- Saint Patrick got rid of all the snakes in Ireland but he seems to have missed Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness (boom tish).

- Saint Patrick got a nun pregnant, killed her and threw her body off Bray head.

- Over 245,000,000,000 Americans celebrate Saint Patrick’s day claiming Irish ancestory of some kind. President George W Bush is 1/4 Irish having spent 26 hours here last year.

- Saint Patrick invented the Etch-a-sketch

- The Saint Patrick’s Day parade is a pickpockets dream. Jimmy the Bollix made over €3,500 last year.

- If you run around the Spire twelve times saying the Hail Mary backwards at midnight Saint Patrick will appear and give you a leather drink pouch filled with ancient and delicious whisky.

- Saint Patrick once had a bare-knuckle fight with the champion of the traveller’s bare-knuckle fighting circuit and beat the crap out of him so badly the traveller crapped his pants and left the country. This was the first instance of an Irish traveller going to England. More were to follow as Saint Patrick punched his way around Ireland.

- If you are born on March 17th Irish law states your parents must give you the name Patrick. Or Trevor.

- Saint Patrick used to lift his cloak and flash at housewives on Middle Abbey Street.

- Before he died Saint Patrick was summoned to Rome by the Pope. Saint Patrick made the treacherous 4 week journey and when he arrived in the Vatican he called the Pope a cunt and told him to ‘feck off’.

- I am currently writing a book called ‘Da Diddly-eye code’ in which I fabricate evidence about Saint Patrick being the anti-christ backed up by examination of Jack Yeats’ paintings and the lyrics of Neil Hannon from the Divine Comedy.

For a Saint Patrick’s day quiz go visit Diarmuid Geezer. Now, it’s just about time for a pint. See you, hungover, tomorrow…

Some stuff I hate

by Twenty Major on March 16th, 2005

People called Roy - what cunts they are. I once knew a bloke called Roy who was the biggest cunt of all time anyway but then he did a sponsored blindathon where he lived like a blind person to raise money for something or to get his name in the papers which made him an even bigger biggest cunt of all time. While I don’t wish him dead I do hope he’s in his fifth year of a terminal and excruciatingly painful disease.

Griffins - just because.

Hilary Swank - she makes me sick. Is she a man? Is she a woman? Nobody knows. I say kill it now before it breeds.

Cloves - what is the fucking point of cloves? They taste like the discharge from Satan’s cock and if you ask me how I know what that tastes like I’ll have to just point to my great age and experience. I’ve been through a lot. The worst are those clove rock sweets - red and white and looking delicious. However, they taste vile. They should be banned so as not to offend me any more.

People who play accordions or trumpets on public transport in Europe - you’re trying to read a book while you travel to your destination. Two fucking Romanians get on and ask you pardon their behaviour before launching into a fucking cunting bastardy medly of cunty songs on their ancient instruments. Fuck off and get AIDS and give it to your daughters you rotten cunts.

Damien Rice fans - don’t you realise if you ignore him he’ll go away? Stop buying his records and going to his gigs. He’ll disappear like a common Steven ‘Tintin’ Duffy.

Other people’s farts - my farts are entertaining and hilarious, often loud and nearly always sweet smellingly good. Other people’s are vile and obnoxious and stink like Terence Trent D’Arby’s second album. I hate them.

Clouds - Clouds are gay. I don’t need to say any more.

Cockroaches - with all the technology we have in the world these scuttling cunts are still the only things that will survive a nuclear war (apart from Dubya and his fuck-buddies in their underground bunkers). Surely there must be some chemical, pesticide or poison that will get rid of them once and for all. If not why don’t we recategorise them as food for starving Africans which will mean they’ll run out all of a sudden and cause a massive famine. Problem solved.

Trying to scratch an itchy hole by just moving your arse on a chair - Social niceties demanded that we do not scratch our holes in public, especially in mass, so you were forced to wiggle your arse cheeks around to try and ease the itch. Now I just have a good root around till comfort comes but I hate the years I was forced to spend wiggling like an altar boy in the presbetery knowing his turn for a private audience with the priest was next.

Southern Comfort - Alcohol should taste like alcohol and not a child’s lolly. A drink for cunts.

Paedophile dwarves - Dwarves are disgusting enough as it is but paedophile dwarves like the one sentenced to four years in prison yesterday are sick beyond words. Imagine the trauma of being sexually abused and then having to come to terms with the fact it was a dwarf with his iddy-biddy little hands and massive head. Drown the cunt, I say.

What stuff do you hate?

Counterfeit Jonnies

by Twenty Major on March 15th, 2005

Have you seen this story about counterfeit condoms?

I know there’s a huge market for counterfeit goods - whether it’s DVD, fake sunglasses and watches, Fendi bags (whatever the fuck they are), clothes and so on but who the fuck decides to manufacture counterfeit jonnies? Apparently the easiest way to tell if you’ve got a dodgy batch is to check the colours. If they come in a range of colours and can be made into different types of animals when you inflate them then you should send them back.

What’s next though? Counterfeit food? Chinese take-aways selling us cat and pigeon instead of duck and chicken?

Counterfeit suntans? People smearing on a brown paste to make themselves look like they have a tan when everyone knows it’s as fake as Ryan Tubridy’s niceness on TV.

Counterfeit hair? Maybe people will have hairpieces made to hide the fact they’re as bald as coots. Where will it end?

Speaking of bald and coots - the latest edition of Dangermaus rolled off the cyber presses last night and features stories about Dickie Rock, St Patrick’s Day and the Taoiseach’s Sea-Monkey problem. Click here for Dangermausy goodness now.

Finally there should be (he said fingers crossed) a new comments system in place this morning. Blogger’s comments were taking ages to load, if they loaded at all, so I was forced to look for an alternative. If you would all be so kind as to christen the new pop-uppy system and say hello (or fuck off you beardy old cunt, up to you) this morning that would be great. Comments will be listed as ‘major’. eg. 1 Major, 2 Major. Who will be lucky enough to get the first ever mythical prize-winning* ‘20 Major’?

*Prize does not exist.

What a busy weekend

by Twenty Major on March 14th, 2005

My goodness, what a busy weekend it’s been for the people, and politicians, of Ireland. But mostly Meath. The county that nobody cares about was centre stage as by-elections took place. Enda Kenny and Fine Gael were happy as they won a seat while some no-mark Independent was happy as she won a seat.

Fianna Fail weren’t worried though as communications minister Noel Dempsey did the talk radio rounds on Sunday saying “Fianna Fail good. We not sad. Next time better. Fwaaaaaaarrrrggg.”

Gerry Adams is finding life more difficult now that someone has said in public what everyone has known for years. His annual cap in hand trip to Washington seems a bit cheeky when himself and Martin McGuinness have spent the last few weeks discussing how to spend £26.5m.

Martin - “I’d love a weekend at a top spa, so I would, Gerry. Relax my old bones a bit.”

Gerry - “Aye, I think I might hire those ‘Queer eye for the straight guy’ fellas. If they can revamp the image of a mullet-headed, Achy-breaky heart loving redneck think what they could do for me. Tee-hee!”

Wasn’t it funny that Ted Kennedy called off a meeting with Adams? God knows he couldn’t ever be seen to meet with killers. Expect him to call off all meetings with himself after he remembers he drives like Princess Diana’s chauffer.

Finally it’s Saint Patrick’s week and parade organisers in Dublin are pissed off because the Luas cables mean no float can be larger than 5.5 metres tall. In the past some of them have been 12 metres high. If this doesn’t spark them into being more creative and inventing some floats that actually fucking float then I don’t know what will.

Dave Allen RIP

by Twenty Major on March 11th, 2005

Sad news today about the death of comedian Dave Allen. He was quite groundbreaking really, making fun of things nobody else did, especially the catholic church, and swearing more than anyone else. He was cool and he was missing bits off his fingers which made him cooler.

His TV show also had a really groovy theme tune which I’m happy to make available to you here (mp3 - 740k).

Michael Jackson likes to fuck kids up the arse

by Twenty Major on March 11th, 2005

It’s true, I promise you. My brother has a friend called Joe Jackson (no, not the steppin’ out pop star) and his cousin is called Michael Jackson who freely admitted to us one night that he likes to have anal sex with baby goats. The sick fucker.

Did I ever tell you that Gerry Adams is an IRA killer? ’strue. Honest. Gerry Adams from Ballinteer once got into a fight with an IRA man in the pub and killed him to death with a series of right-hooks and uppercuts.

Have you heard that Brian Kennedy is gay? I swear to God. Brian Kennedy, who lives in Clontarf, has had a number of torrid affairs with men.

And how about the news that Michael McDowell has a shrine to Hitler in his front room and talks about the ‘great scheme’ in which he’ll cleanse Ireland from the immigrants that are ‘diluting our population’. Yes, that’s Michael McDowell who works as a taxi driver and lives in Artane.

Finally, I’m sure you’ve all heard that Brian McFadden is a talentless, insipid, bland, vapid cunt.

Too hungover to blog

by Twenty Major on March 10th, 2005

This morning I have a very bad hangover after a night of pints with Jimmy, Pete and Bob the chef (I’ll tell you about him another time). As it is each tap of the keyboard is like an explosion in my head. I just can’t blog this morning.

So instead of me writing something to entertain you I want you to write something to entertain me. Please leave a comment to tell me about the worst hangover you had or how you did something really stupid when you were drunk.

Thanks and does anyone have any Nurofen handy?

Adams to punish IRA shooters

by Twenty Major on March 9th, 2005

Gerry Adams today released a statement in which he offered to maim, torture, rape and kill those IRA members responsible for the death of Robert McCartney. The bearded Sinn Fein leader said “Justice must be done. Sinn Fein in no way condones violence and we will not accept the behaviour of these IRA men that we have no connection with anyway.”

It’s believed the men will be sodomised first, with Adams set to go bareback and lube-free to really teach them a lesson, before a serious beating is administered. After a number of hours of being tortured both physically (with sharp and blunt instruments) and mentally (with Phil Collins music) the killers will be put to sleep by a local ‘Ra friendly vet.

McDonald’s new happy meals

by Twenty Major on March 9th, 2005

I read this morning that McDonalds are introducing a new line of happy meals for kids. One of the things that’s supposed to make them happier is that these new treats will have 30% less salt. Nice one - that’s bound to make any kid happy because we all know how concerned children are with their salt intake.

Here are some suggestions to make McDonald’s happy meals happier for kids:

- Instead of a toy give them a weapon of some kind. A sharp stick, for example, a garrotte, or possibly a ninja star. Kids love weapons.

- Introduce new lines of milkshakes, such Strawberry-amphetamine and hallucinogenic-vanilla. Strawberry kids will be full of self-confidence and energy, for short periods, while the vanilla kids will be happy to sit in a room and stare at a blank wall. Kids love drugs and the addictive qualities of these delicious beverages will ensure repeat custom.

- Let the kids slaughter their own cow to get the meat for their burger. Kids love to kill animals. Return customers could use the weapon they received on a previous visit.

- Make it obligatory for kids to swear when ordering their happy meals. Kids love to swear. “I’ll have a fucking happy meal, you poxy cunt, with a Strawberry-amphetamine milkshake and a large cunting fries. You goat-fucking bastard.”

- Make every 100th happy meal poisonous. Kids love to vomit and adding an element of danger to their snacking will keep their enthusiasm up.

- Give coupons which entitle the user to a day off school. Kids love days off school. Then on their days off they can take their weapons, drop in for a happy meal, kill an animal, swear at a grown-up and get absolutely wankered on drugs. Nice.

And that’s how to make McDonald’s happy meals happier.