Christmas sales

by Twenty Major on December 30th, 2005

“Ron”, says I, “You know the way after Christmas all the shops have a sale?”

“Aye”, says he.

“I was wondering why you don’t choose to reward your best customers by having a sale on the beer.”

“Were you now?”

“I was.”

“Let me tell you why, Twenty. If you were to go into Brown Thomas (Dublin’s most famous and expensive department store - not a gay man’s mickey) right this very minute I can assure you that the place is packed to the very brim with the cuntiest of cunts scrapping around for bargains. The same with all the other stores. Chock-a-block with cunts, shitbags and housewives. Now, just for a moment, Twenty, take a look around my bar. Who do you see?”

“Nobody, Ron, I’m the only one in here at the moment.”

“Exactly, Twenty. While Brown Thomas has to put up with cunts in their thousands because they slash their prices I keep my prices the same and I only have one cunt to put up with.”

“You’re smarter than you look, Ron. Pint, please.”

Jaysus

by Twenty Major on December 27th, 2005

“Here Twenty”, said Stinking Pete, “I’ll get the turkey this Christmas, you don’t worry.”

I should have known better. He arrived over to my house with a copy of Guy Ritchie’s ‘Revolver’, useless cunt.

As you may have gathered I have been taking a well deserved Christmas break. I am recharging my batteries, going around town finding new people to hate and drinking lots and lots and lots.

I drank so much Guinness on Christmas Eve I shat dark matter.

I hope you had a fine Christmas, unburdened by cunts, wankers and shitehawks of all denominations. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have stout to drink. Normal service will resume shortly.

*hic*

by Twenty Major on December 25th, 2005

And have a fucking menny very crispmas you cnuts.

Lesbian weddings are gay

by Twenty Major on December 23rd, 2005

“Did you seem them lesbians who got married in Belfast the other day?” asked Jimmy the Bollix.

“I did, James”, I replied.

“You’d have thought”, said he, “that give the high profile of this particular ceremony, in that it was the very first gay wedding to take place in the Unitd Kingdom, they might have chosen a couple of stunnas instead of a pair who look like they plait their minges and have to use one of those vibrating Gilette Sensor razors on their faces each morning.”

“It’s a very good point.”

“Real life lesbians are so disappointing compared to the ones you see in films, magazines, websites and Stinking Pete’s private video collection. Why is that do you reckon?”

“No idea. Maybe it’s because pretty girls can get all the cock they want whereas some lumpy looking heifer who looks like Geoff Capes might have a bit of a problem getting any at all. So butch mingers just get together because even lesbian sex is better than no sex at all. Shame there’s no lesbians around here that we could ask.”

“I’m a lesbian”, said Dirty Dave.

“Shut up, Dave.”

“What do you reckon they had on their wedding list then?”

“Imacc, estrogen supplements, kd lang CDs, strap-ons although no toaster. Lesbians are allergic to toast.”

“I think all lesbians should be kept in safari parks. Even worse were the lesbians that got married in England the day after. Fuck me those were two of the most lesbianish lezzers I ever saw. They were so into the whole butch thing they even gave themselves male names. Elton and David. Who did they think they were fooling?”

“I like the safari park idea. Another pint, Jimmy?”

“Don’t mind if I do, Twenty.”

Further to yesterday

by Twenty Major on December 22nd, 2005

Here’s what we know.

1 - A person turned up at this blogger meeting and pretended to be me. According to one of the atendees this fake Twenty “He talked about Christmas plans, reasons for anonymity (his job) and general blog bitching. That kind of thing.”

2 - I, the real Twenty Major, was not there.

So what this means is that there’s a fucking spanner of a mentalist out there pretending to be me and as the most perceptive of you will have gathered I’m not even really me.

I have to say I am dreadfully worried. After being described on various blogs as ‘A nice guy’, ‘a thoroughly nice chap’, ‘well behaved’ and ‘a sweetie’, I am concerned that this person is going to further sully my reputation.

What if they adopt a Romanian AIDS baby in my name and show everyone what a caring, good-hearted soul I am? What if they make substantial donations to traveller’s rights organizations? What, in the name of the good sweet jumping Jesus on the cross, if they go into HMV and wearing a t-shirt which says “I am Twenty Major! No, really, I am!!” and they loudly buy many Damien Rice and Phil Collins CDs, announcing to anyone who will listen that ‘I, the real Twenty Major and not the unbalanced loony of an impostor, really love Damien Rice and Phil Collins’?

How is a man supposed to live with that shame? Maybe it’s time to call it a day…

Fake Twenty alert

by Twenty Major on December 21st, 2005

Some Irish bloggers met up last night for some beers. It seems they had a good time and they really enjoyed meeting me.

The only thing is, I wasn’t there. Who is pretending to be me?

Christmas time

by Twenty Major on December 21st, 2005

Another night in Ron’s. Getting into the Christmas spirit with some Christmas spirits. A pint and a Jameson’s. A wonderful combination like Morcombe and Wise, Laurel and Hardy, Bono and both barrels of a shotgun.

Lucky Luciano was there back from his latest job. He wouldn’t tell us who it was though. He said “Porca madonna! If I a-tell you then you a-tell everyone and soon nobody a-hire a-me.”

“Ah go on!”, said Stinking Pete.

“Fammi un bocchino” he replied.

“Is that some kind of ice-cream like Vienetta?”

There are times I wonder how it’s possible for Stinking Pete to be more stupid than Dirty Dave then Dave shows up and I realise Pete is a veritable genius next to him.

“Yes, is-a fockin’ ice a-cream”, Lucky said before rolling his eyes further back than Paris Hilton’s legs on a first date.

“Might get some in for the Crimbo” said Pete.

And speaking of which I went into town yesterday to do all my Christmas shoplifting. It is absolutely mental and Irish people are shopoholics at the best of times but at this time of year they just can’t keep their credit cards in their wallets for more than 2 minutes at a time. The city centre was fucking jammers, full of cunts on their mobile phones. Still, I tripped up at least 3 people on Grafton Street.

I don’t have a huge list of people to buy for. Jimmy the Bollix - silver plated knuckle dusters. Dirty Dave - every single after shave sampler they had out in Brown Thomas, I stole them all. Ron the barman - I’m going to give him an ailbi but that’s a story for another day. Lucky Luciano - I’m getting him a t-shirt with ‘I love Silvio Berlusconi’ on the front and ‘Stalin is a cunt’ on the back. Being from Livorno he’s a rampant communist and often wears t-shirts with Che Guevara on the front which we slag him about by asking why he’s wearing Rolf Harris on his chest.

“A-who da fock is a-Rolf fucking Harris? Cazzo!”, he says.

Finally Stinking Pete. Since he said he was feeling lonely the other day we’ve all been trying to think of a good present to get him. Eventually we decided he needed a pet to keep him company so we all chipped in €50 and ordered a Russian bride off the internet. Her name is Svetlana and we have to pick her up from the cargo depot at Dublin airport on Christmas eve. She’s coming in a crate of caviar from Kiev.

We loved her profile on the website. She said “Talking about music I like different kinds but usually I listen to the classical music.”

That’s fantastic, Stinking Pete loves different kinds of music but he hates the classical music. Opposites attract though, right?

She goes onto say “I like swimming, snowboard, yoga and alpinism”, which is uncanny because Pete had alpinism as a kid and spent 18 months in hospital so they’ll can share their experiences of that. She is divorced and Christian and a social drinker, like me or the lads, so she’ll fit right in. She’s a non-smoker but you can’t have everything I guess.

I think this is going to make such a difference to poor Stinking Pete’s life. Christmas is a time for giving not receiving (which makes 50% of gay men right for a short period of time) and this is going to be much better than last Christmas when we gave him cholera.

Blog Interviews

by Twenty Major on December 20th, 2005

It seems everyone who’s anyone in the Irish blogging world is doing interviews at the moment. They’re interviewing each other, podcasting, interviewing people who have stuff to do with computer stuff and never let it be said that Twenty Major wasn’t up to speed. I know what’s trendy, what the kids like (in a nice way, not in the the way the Catholic church thinks they know what kids like) and to keep up with the blogging Jones’s I’ve got a real scoop.

Time magazine voted him ‘Man of the year’ - yes, it’s all 4′8″ of Bono.

Twenty Major: Well Bono, despite the fact that if you’re man of the year I’ve got a massive set of tits and well worn vag, how does it feel?

Bono: Yeah, it’s great. I’m feeding the world, you know.

Twenty Major: Right, I assume you’re letting them know it’s Christmas time as well. That’ll make them feel better. So if you’re so all powerful why did you let Johnny Cash die?

Bono: It was his time. When God calls you have to answer.

Twenty Major: Not true actually. God once called to my door and I didn’t answer. I skipped over the back fence and ran away and wrote the worldwide smash hit ‘Africa’ for Toto. When I came back after 6 months of wild life on the road he’d gone. So, which is more important - being part of a enormously popular beat combo like U2 or being a tedious, unstoppable loudmouth?

Bono: As a rock star, I have two instincts, I want to have fun, and I want to change the world. I have a chance to do both.

Twenty Major: Can’t you just have fun and leave the rest of us in peace?

Bono: Music can change the world because it can change people.

Twenty Major: No, plastic surgery can change people. Experiencing a massive trauma can change people. Giving up an addiction to crystal meth can change people. Music just makes them dance a bit or sing out of tune when they have their iPod on on the bus and they don’t realise they’re singing out loud. Let’s face it if music has changed the world it hasn’t done a very fucking good job of it, has it?

Bono: This is our moment, this is our time, this is our chance to stand up for what is right. Three thousand Africans, mostly children, die every day of mosquito bites. We can fix that. Nine thousand people dying every die of a preventable, treatable disease like Aids. We have got the drugs. We can help them.

Twenty Major: You have a very big garden, I’m sure. Why don’t you build a massive hutch and import some Africans? Not too many mosquitoes in Dalkey, are there? And if you have the drugs tell Adam Clayton to stop selling them out of the boot of his car up at the Blue Light.

Bono: We thought that we had the answers, it was the questions we had wrong.

Twenty Major: Jesus Christ, you are such a cunt. Do you know what this is?

Bono: Why it appears to be some kind of blunderbuss.

Twenty Major: Do you have any last words?

Bono: Rock ‘n’ roll is ridiculous. It’s absurd. In the past, U2 was trying to duck that. Now we’re wrapping our arms around it and giving it a great big kiss. To be one, to be united is a great thing. But to respect the right to be different is maybe even greater.

Twenty Major: *KABLAM*

Next week me and my blunderbuss will be interviewing Damien Rice, Phil Collins, Shirley Temple Bar, that wanker who lives up the road from me and people who chew gum. Yes, all of them.

Denis Donaldson

by Twenty Major on December 19th, 2005

No doubt you’ve all read about Denis Donaldson, a senior member of Sinn Fein, who was outed as a British intelligence double agent.

Funnily enough I also worked for the British intelligence services. I told them “Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness are terrorists. Honest. You should take them out. They say they have nothing to do with anything but a blind man can see they’re calling all the shots.”

They didn’t listen to me and now lots of people in Ireland are going to vote for terrorists in the next elections, the stupid cunts.

Update: Just to clarify I did not work for British intelligence nor did I provide them any intelligence whatsoever. Martin and Gerry are great fellows so they are.

I once did a poo in the shape of David Shayler though. Took me fucking hours.

New Dangermaus

by Twenty Major on December 16th, 2005

New Dangermaus everyone!

With a brand new columnist called Diarmuid Diamond who tells it like it jolly well is.