Saddam hanged

by Twenty Major on December 30th, 2006

I’m gutted.

Really, what did he ever do to anyone? This senseless persecution of the bearded must stop.

Crazy meteorites

by Twenty Major on December 29th, 2006

No time this morning but this really made me laugh (via Damien)

Silly taxi driver

by Twenty Major on December 28th, 2006

Coming out of town today.

“So, did you get any good bargains?”, he says.

“What?”, I say.

“Bargains. At the sales, like.”

“Erm, do you see me carrying any bags?”

“No.”

“Well, unless I bought up the whole of the invisible store then it’s unlikely I got any bargains.”

“Right.”

“Nothing caught your fancy then?”

“I wasn’t actually in town for shopping. I came in to have some food which wasn’t turkey or ham or vegetables.”

“What did you have?”

“Noodles in a Japanese noodle place.”

“Nice?”

“Very.”

“They can be spicy, can’t they?”

“I suppose, it depends on what you order.”

“Yeah, those buffalo wings sure can be spicy. I had my first buffalo wing last Christmas with my brother in law. We got drunk in Carlow and ended up in some place at four in the morning eating buffalo wings with some sauce on them.”

“Shut up now, please.”

“I’d love buffalo wings now, so I would.”

“Let me out of the car.”

I walked home in the end. It was for the best.

Do not eat!

by Twenty Major on December 27th, 2006

How many of you got presents with a little packet of silica gel in them? You know the ones with ‘do not eat’ written across it.

I have always been curious about it and its effects so this Christmas, after my dinner, I forsook the trifle and christmas pudding and ate three sachets.

So far I can’t see that there have been any ill effects whatsoever. So, why don’t we round up the millions of sachets of this stuff that get chucked out every year and feed the starving children of Africa with them?

Let them know it’s Christmas time. If the worst comes to the worst and it is very toxic it just means there’ll be less starving children and I defy anyone to find fault with that.

Seasons greetings

by Twenty Major on December 24th, 2006

I’m taking a few days off, tomorrow sees the annual feast followed by the traditional knacker shoot.

Anyway, I’d like to wish you and yours, well most of you and some of yours, a very happy Christmas.

You cunts.

Blogger’s meet-up …

by Twenty Major on December 22nd, 2006

Well, being full of the Christmas spirit last night I decided I would go along to the blogger’s meet-up in the Market bar.

Fuck me, what a bunch of ignorant cunts they all were.

“Evening folks, I’m Twenty Major”, I said. “Can I get anyone a drink?”

“Fuck off you old cunt”, said Colm from Infactah, “we’re young hipsters from Sligo. We don’t want to be associated with an old fucker like you”.

“Yeah, get lost, beardy”, said someone else. I have no idea who it was but they were too fucking rude to introduce themselves.

“Erm, well, maybe I made a mistake coming”, I said.

“You sure did, you senile old pissbag”, commented ‘anonymous’.

“I’ll be off then”, I said.

“Away with ya, ya stinky old bollix”, said a hideous looking cunt who then made himself disappear and reappear as if by magic.

Irish bloggers, what a pack of cliquey, stuck-up, secret handshakey cunts.

Go Air France

by Twenty Major on December 21st, 2006

They are currently defending themselves in a court case taken by a 21 stone man who said he felt ‘humiliated’ because the company made him buy an extra seat on a flight from New Delhi.

The Air France lawyer said “This man can barely balance on his chair in this courtroom, so how is he expected to squash into a small single seat on a plane?”

Quite right. What a load of shite from the fat bloke. He was humiliated because he had to buy an extra seat but not humiliated by his gargantuan physique? Rubbish.

Air France is doing the world a service. If they didn’t take a stand then what sort of message does it give out? It would spark a wave of fatness as people forgot about diet and exercise. Imagine a world where 21 stone men can take up as many seats as they want without extra cost. It doesn’t bear thinking about.

If I had been the pilot I’d simply have put him in the cargo hold where he belongs. A man who won’t take responsibility for his own cake and pie eating is not somebody I’d want around normal human beings.

Some people…

by Twenty Major on December 21st, 2006

…think you shouldn’t blog while drunk.

I disagree. Just hang on till I go vomit out the back and I’ll explain you why….

The unknown Haughey legacy

by Twenty Major on December 20th, 2006

So the report into the activities of former Taoiseach Charles Haughey was published and there can’t have been any surprises. Here is a man who stole money from a fund collected to raise money for his colleague and so-called friend, Brian Lenihan, to have a liver transplant in the US. Over £265,000 was collected, less than £70,000 went towards the treatment.

The rest went, no doubt, on expensive monogrammed shirts, tongue exercisers for licking out Terry Keane and the upkeep of his estate in Kinsealy. The report said he ‘lived a life and incurred expenses vastly beyond a scale of public service entitlements’. So, enormous estate and sex toys aside what did he do with all that cash? Here are a few examples of how he squandered our money:

1 - He had a shooting range on his grounds but, in a typically trailblazing way, it was like that film ‘Hostel’ where people could pay to shoot coloured people from all over the world. He’d smuggle in foreigners, and people from Roscommon, in crates of bananas then dress them in deer costumes. He’d starve them for weeks then let them loose in a field full of Wham bars at which point the wealthy hunters would blast them to kingdom come. The bodies were then sold to Albert Reynolds for dog food.

2 - He befriended talented orphans and ensured they became famous in later years, continuing his politics with subliminal messages in their work. It’s little known, but well proven, that if you read a Cecilia Ahern novel backwards your brain will be so scrambled you’ll vote for Fianna Fail no matter how much proof there is of them being a shower of feckless liars, thieves and fabulist cunts. It’s also a much better read apparently.

3 - He introduced the ‘gay’ to Ireland. All our best gays kept emigrating. Oscar Wilde, Terry Wogan, Arthur Conan Doyle and Siobhan Fahey from Bananarama were all camping it up across the water and the lack of Irish gays meant events like the Eurovision song contest and Barbara Streisand concerts were hopeless failures. To combat that Haughey bought ‘The gay’, a little magic man from somewhere over the rainbow, and he went around touching people on the back, saying ‘You’re it’. It was only meant to be a limited experiment but it appears ‘The gay’ is still at large somewhere in the country.

4 - Despite his power Haughey had many opposers, those who weren’t fooled by his sweet talk and charm. Unsurprisingly a large number of them disappeared. Former Fine Gael leader, Garret Fitzgerald, suffered nightly kidnap attempts for a three year period. What is not well known though is how he disposed of the bodies. When the ha’penny bridge in Dublin closed for renovations in 2001 Haughey instructed his minions to dig up the bones and commanded Harland and Wolff, who were carrying out the repairs, to use them in the process. It is now said that if you cross the bridge late at night and if the wind is blowing the right direction you can hear them cry out. ‘Haugheeeeey, you cuuuuuuuuuunt!’, they say.

5 - When he was the most famous person in Ireland Haughey decided that he should have his own website devoted to how fantastic and cool and awesome he was. This was before the world wide web was even invented. So, he hired a team of scientists from all over the world, and Germany, to invent a time machine to go into the future, invent the internet, set up a website which would post pictures of him and witty comments about him as he went around doing his day to business.

The flaw in the plan came about when he and his team set the site up too far into the future at which point he was a knackered, bed-ridden, forgetful old cripple. So now Blogorrah just posts pictures of somebody called Glenda Gilson. Apparently Haughey turns in his grave on a daily basis. Well, he would if his body wasn’t encased in concrete just in case some Resident Evil style zombie action were to go down one day.

So there you go. What a man. What a cunt. Can we have our fucking money back please?

Image thingies

by Twenty Major on December 19th, 2006

Those image things you have to deal with when you want to leave a comment on blogger or register for a site or even just use the search engine on some forums do my head in.

Not that they’re a bad idea or anything. I’m sure they’re very useful to stop the nerds who sit and write software to automatically sign up to websites and anything that stops such a pack of ambitionless cunts is no bad thing.

However, there really should be some kind of standard for it. You never know from one to the next if it’s case sensitive and sometimes they’re not easy to read. For example, here is a nice easy one:

Easy to read, no confusion between characters. Even a complete simpleton would have problems fucking it up. The problem is when you find ones like this:

Are those zeros or is that the letter O in lower case? Or upper case? Is that two Vs or a W? Why is that one in a colour I can’t read against the background? Are they number ones or lower case Ls?

I’m all for protection but this is taking the piss. It’s like they don’t want you to use the search thingy or sign up for their webpage. What is the fucking point of making it so difficult?

I did like the one I got on Blogger the other day though: