I just saw Twink’s pussy

by Twenty Major on January 12th, 2007

There I was going into Superquinn, that particular branch because Dirty Dave’s cousin is the assistant manager and I can get one of those price gun things and get loads of things for nothing, when there in the middle of the road was a little tabby cat.

I was a bit worried because there was a lot of traffic but the cat didn’t seem to mind. It was just sitting there.

Then, as if from nowhere (like the shopkeeper in Mr Ben), out came Twink and told the little cat to get back into the garden.

“Ya fuckin’ eejit! Ya stupid fuckin’ dickhead. Get in or I’ll smack the fuckin’ face off ya”, she said to the cat, I think. My lip reading isn’t always great. She was wearing some kind of a jacket with fur on the collar. The cat did as it was bid.

And that’s how I saw Twink’s pussy.

It could be the end of the world

by Twenty Major on January 12th, 2007

Looking out my window right now I can see the trees at the end of the garden being blown all over the place by very strong winds. In Roscommon a Kangaroo has escaped and is terrorising the local community, brazenly coming up to people then going *boing boing boing* off again.

Rush hour traffic in Dublin was brought to a standstill yesterday by a young swan who decided the canal was boring before going on a rampage around Baggot Street leaving terrified motorists stranded in their cars.

What next? Panthers on the loose or a plague of bonobo apes?

As the boss man in Hill Street Blues always said “Be careful out there….you cunts”. He generally muttered that under his breath before sending them out on patrol for the day.

Strange things are afoot.

Young people of Ireland

by Twenty Major on January 11th, 2007

Conscientious, caring, fun loving and most of all, after the recent publicity, fully aware of the folly of dangerous driving.

Take, for example, these two videos here, which show some lads down in Cork showing how much attention they’ve paid to the reports of the 350+ people killed on Irish roads last year and the calls from all and sundry to take care when driving.

Video 1

Video 2

Of course, all these boys need is someone to tell them they’re doing wrong, isn’t that right?

Update: The videos got deleted. Oh well. Just imagine some young lads driving like cunts and videoing themselves. It’s easy if you try…

Northside v Southside Dublin

by Twenty Major on January 11th, 2007

Today’s paper suggests people from the Southside of Dublin are better than those from the Northside because they drop less chewing gum on the ground.

It’s sort of like saying one group of killers is better than another group of killers because they don’t kill as many people. Does it really matter where you drop your chewing gum? Simply eating chewing gum is in itself a disgusting act which immediately shows you to be of peasant stock.

I don’t really get the whole Northside v Southside thing myself. Yeah, they’ve got Darndale and Finglas and Ballymun while we’ve got Tallaght, Clondalkin and those disgusting scumbags from Blackrock.

They had the Grove, we had Wesley. They had the Omni park, we had the Square. Really we should be joining forces to fight the common enemy. Correct, people from Cavan. Why would Dubliners fight each other when this lot are coming to our city in droves and spreading mayhem, pestilence and shit-stirring.

You see them around Westmoreland Street trying to cause problems. They’ll grab a Northsider and say “See that lad there”, pointing at some bloke with weird spiky hair wearing ripped jeans with a blazer and a scarf knotted around his neck in the way that only a ponce can knot it, “he says ‘What does a Northsider use for protection during sex? A bus shelter! Wah wah wah wah wah!’ and the Northsider will get furious and start fisticuffs.

Then the Cavan bloke will pull aside a Southsider and say “Hey, see that Northsider”, pointing to a bloke in a tracksuit wearing a Celtic shirt with his tongue lolling out of his head and with a little ronny of a moustache, “he said ‘What do a Southsider and a tampon have in common? They’re both stuck up cunts’. Wah wah wah wah wah wah!” and the Southsider will be like, totally, pissed off and he’ll kick some young lad to death outside Annabels one night.

It’s time we learned that we’re all the same, if a little bit different, and stopped the fighting. Perhaps we need a song by 2FM DJs. A ‘rap against rape’ for the new generation. Come on O’Shea, if that is your real name, sort it out. The finest vocal talent in the country. Rick O’Shea, Damien McCaul, Larry Gogan, John Clarke and Marty himself. It’d be a winner. You might even get the Nobel peace prize.

Dirty Dave is from the Northside actually. Somewhere in Stoneybatter, I think. That’s not what makes him smelly and dirty and stupid though. It’s the fact that his parents were first cousins.

Apple and their funky gadgets

by Twenty Major on January 10th, 2007

So Apple have released the iPhone, which will be a phone that runs the Mac OS, is an iPod, can play videos, browse the web and make you a cup of tea in the morning. Then there’s iTV which means you get a box or something and then you can put the box between your computer and your TV and watch all the stuff on your computer on your TV.

They really are an innovative company. I have a few suggestions for them though.

iTrim: Nose hair, the bane of all our lives, but how often have you wanted to trim your nose hair while downloading the latest releases from the iTunes music store while sending spreadsheets and project files to colleagues who can view you via your webcam? The iTrim does all that and more. Using state of the art touch sensitive technology the device trims your nose hair then sends the vibrations wireless to your computer who uses the beats per minute of the trimmer to select the perfect song to listen to.

iTwat: Are you a young Hollywood starlet? Can’t get out of a car because the paparazzi are taking shots of your exposed minge? The iTwat uses holographic technology to make it look like you’re actually wearing knickers rendering their photos useless but still allowing you to get fingered by complete strangers while standing at the bar.

iRon: Do you want to chat with your friends while ensuring your favourite shirt is beautifully pressed and without creases? The iRon is a steam iron with a built in chat client that connects to MSN, AOL, Yahoo, Gmail, IRC and the Home Shopping Network. iRoning has never been so much fun!

iPog: The pogs faze died out after being hugely popular in the mid 90s but watch it grow again as the iPog takes schoolyards by storm. Each one contains a 2GB memory card, enough to store 1000 songs in MP3 format, and features the face of Steve Jobs. Mmmmm, Steve Jobs.

iRocketlauncher: Designed specifically for US soldiers in Iraq who have little to do except wait for civilians insurgents to drive past their post. They can now watch episodes of their favourite TV shows such as M*A*S*H, WKRP in Cincinnati and Manimal. It has a built in motion sensor so the headphones cut out and a warning is sounded in anyone Arabic comes within 1000 yards.

iCan’tbelieveit’snotbutter: It’s a low fat, healthy spread for your sandwiches but it can also play movies, songs and … oh, fuck it. You know the rest.

Countdown to the next election

by Twenty Major on January 9th, 2007

Sometime before July there’ll be a general election. As many of you will realise politics is my first love and I have spent hours poring over facts and figures, precedents, rhetoric and party strategy and campaign tactics to produce what I believe to be the definitive guide to the next election in Ireland.

So without further ado, here it is:

January 07: Fine Gael launch an advertising campaign highlighting the failures of government citing the poor state of the health service, increasing transport problems throughout the country, high prices and high taxes and the government’s inability to tackle serious crime. Enda Kenny appears on talk shows up and down the country and although he’s still a bit wooden he speaks well and makes sense.

Labour sort of shuffle around in the background looking at their feet. The PDs say nothing. The Greens declare a war on cars and promise free bicycles to everyone if they get into power.

Conor Lenihan is caught in a Sunday World sting driving a truck full of Sudanese refugees off the ferry in Rosslare. He claims they are a gospel choir hired to perform at a memorial service for Charles Haughey. Meanwhile Noel Ahern calls women ‘Milk machines for the babies of Ireland’ drawing condemnation from pretty much everyone except Claire Byrne.

Taoiseach Bertie Ahern rejects calls from opposition leaders for both members to resign saying ‘It’s none of their feckin’ business what they do’.

End of month polls see Fine Gael gain 1 to 28, Fianna Fail stay steady at 40, Labour at 11, Sinn Fein at 7, the Greens at 4, PDs at 3 and Independents/Others at 8.

February 07: After 34 gangland murders in Dublin in the first 3 days of the month the opposition accuses Minister for Justice Michael McDowell as being ‘as soft as Scarlett Johannson’s dirty pillows’ on crime. The PD leader says it’s not his fault and lays the blame squarely on middle-class recreational drug users saying if it wasn’t for them there’d be nobody to buy it.

Bertie Ahern agrees and threatens to plunge the country into recession unless people from Foxrock and Rathgar stop buying cocaine for their dinner parties. ‘Maybe then you’ll appreciate everything we’ve done for you feckless eejits’, he says.

Fine Gael promise to cut waiting time in hospitals, an end to people being treated in corridors and better pay and shorter working hours for nurses and doctors.

Labour look like they’re going to say something but in the end they don’t. Sinn Fein say they would have no problem being part of a coalition government with Fianna Fail. Gerry Adams says ‘Me and Bertie go way back’. Bertie says he’d have no problems sharing power with Sinn Fein who have ‘been grand since they stopped all that blowing people up and stuff’.

End of month polls see Fianna Fail gain 2, Fine Gael drop 2, the PDs drop 2 to just 1% while new Independent candidate for Dublin South Central, Eamon Dunphy, makes huge inroads with his free grass for arthritis sufferers manifesto.

March 07: Transport Minister Martin Cullen rejects calls for his resignation as traffic in Dublin grinds to a standstill. It now takes an average of 4 hours to get from the airport to just beyond the M50 toll bridge, LUAS fares increase by €2 a journey at rush hour times to deter passengers while Dublin Bus says it needs another 200 buses to make any impact on people taking their cars to work. The minister says his revolutionary plan of introducing horse and carriage lanes to every major road in the country will see a huge improvement in traffic by 2087.

Pat Rabbite launches a broadside at Mary Harney for the state of the health service after it’s revealed that 4 old aged pensioners died in a cupboard at Beaumont Hospital after staff forgot they were in there. An Irish Sun investigation also reveals that many nurses are being hired from the Asian sub-continent and have no training. A number of the nurses then expose their dirty pillows on page 3.

Enda Kenny appears on RTE’s Six-one news and all the media training looks like it’s paying off as he appears charismatic, informed and conscientious, promising to make things better if Fine Gael are elected. On the same bulletin Sean Haughey is accused of killing a small boy by repeatedly running over him with his car before taking the body up in one of his helicopters and dumping him into the Irish Sea.

Bertie Ahern defends his colleague saying “If there’s no body then you can’t prove anything. Anyway, it’s none of your business who he kills in his private life. Next you’ll be wanting to know who he killed for his communion.”

The opinion polls at the end of the month show a three point gain for Fianna Fail, Fine Gael drop another two while the PDs are down to half a point.

April 07: The month starts well for Bertie Ahern as accusations that he took a £12,000 gift in 1992 from Manchester United manager Alex Ferguson are proved to be incorrect. “It was only £7,500, so shove it up your holes. I didn’t even get a sandwich”, he says.

In a charm offensive Fine Gael leader Enda Kenny appears on Podge and Rodge and puts the two filthy puppets in their place no matter how hard they try to wind him up. Also in a sensational interview with George Hook on Newstalk 106 he lambastes the government for their performance, the cronyism, back handers and nepotism the country has suffered. “I won’t give people jobs because they’re my friends”, he says, “I’ll give them jobs because they’re the best people for the jobs”. Even the Churchill dog Hook applauds at the end and says “Oohhhrrrr yyyessss!!

The Green party make some headway with their plan to build a wind farm where Coolock now stands, Labour hold a Proinsias de Rossa lookalike competition, Michael McDowell says his party are just misunderstood when he orders Gardai to arrest and crucify Nigerian refugee Kunle as a ‘deterrent to other darkies’, Sinn Fein support increases in areas in the country with poor educational standards but a willingness to sing rebel songs even if they don’t really know what they all mean while Dunphy’s campaign appears to be failing after he’s challenged in Dublin South Central by former In Tua Nua singer Leslie Dowdall who is running on the ‘Let’s have Damien Rice made illegal’ ticket.

Late in the month it’s discovered that Charlie McCreevy is a crack addict and big time drug runner moving kilos of cocaine through a network of Latvian criminals all over the country. McCreevy appears on TV, cries a bit, says he knows he’s let everyone down and he’ll do his best, by God, to make it up to everyone.

Refusing to condemn his friend the Taoiseach says “Yiz are full of shite. It’s not like he had his house painted for free or anything like that. Youse are all thick an’ all an anyways. What drugs he bought with his confirmation money are none of your business.”

At the end of the month Fianna Fail move up another 4 points at the expense of Fine Gael, Labour stand still to stand still, the Greens move up 2 while the PDs are down to .2 of a point.

May 07: Thousands of jobs are lost and business leaders warn that Dublin will no longer attract new investment due to the transport problems. Doctors and nurses go on strike but the government call in the army. Hospital deaths increase by 980%. Mary Harney claims it’s a triumph as waiting lists are drastically cut. An Irish Daily Mail investigation shows people are staying at home to perform surgery on themselves with the help of Wikipedia and back street Sicilian surgeons.

95 gangland killings take place at Liffey Valley shopping centre alone and Sinn Fein blow up the Spire on O’Connell Street saying something about Ian Paisley and landlords and that they were basically fed up being good and nobody should begrudge them a bit of an explosion because they haven’t exploded anything for ages like.

Fine Gael tour the country, Enda Kenny kisses more babies than any politician has ever kissed before and gets chicken pox for his troubles. His dogged resistance to scratching the sores makes him lots of new friends and his promise to get tough on crime is welcomed by the whole country.

The Sunday Independent runs an exclusive interview with Michael Flatley’s ex, Lisa Murphy, and she reveals that her new love is Minister for Social and Family Affairs Seamus Brennan. In a no holds barred exposé with Barry Egan she tells how the two are in love and how Brennan loves to poo on her chest before making his children watch as he shoots his load all over her face. Egan cums in his pants describing her as the most beautiful woman in Ireland. Grainne Seoige throws a hissy fit.

Despite the scandal Fianna Fail gain another 3 points, Fine Gael go up one but that’s only because Dublin South Central is all open after Eamon Dunphy murders Leslie Dowdall before hanging himself in an auto-erotic asphyxisation incident in the Westbury Hotel. A poster of Roy Keane from the inside of FourFourTwo magazine is found close by. The PDs are down to .1 of a point after the health service problems and Michael McDowell tells Miriam O’Callaghan he’d like to ’sup from your furry cup’ when he thinks his mic is off during a Prime Time interview.

June 07: The Taoiseach announces the date of the election as July 1st. “Vote or fuck off you pack of snivelling shitbags”, he says.

Final campaigning sees all parties going all out. The Labour party call a press conference in the Mont Clare hotel but don’t turn up. Instead they go for the sympathy vote sending a handicapped man to issue a press release which is a blank piece of paper with the party logo on the top. The press corps say it’s the party’s best performance in years.

Sinn Fein say they’ll bring about a united Ireland even if it means they have to kill all the protestants in the 32 counties to do it, the Greens claim to have invented a hovering space car which runs on recycled waste but say it won’t be available until after they get a few seats in, Jackie Healy Rae sets up the Big Bogman Cloth Cap party which rounds up all the Independents but they tell Mildred Fox they’d rather bring Margaret Thatcher into the party when she phones up and begs to be involved.

After it’s revealed 356 dangerous criminals failed to return to prison after being let out to see that cunt who won Australian Idol’s sell out concert in Slane and that hospitals were using pigs’ blood during complicated surgery on the orders of the Minister for Health the PDs don’t even score on the charts but are confident that at least their mums will vote for them.

Fine Gael pull out all the stops. Enda Kenny is transformed into a witty, engaging character. An honest, believable politician. He promises more Gardai and a government that will be tough on crime. He reveals a foolproof blueprint to ressucitate the health service, promises free medical and dental care to everyone and 24 hour GPs while many drugs will no longer require a prescription and can be bought over the counter.

He announces metro systems for Dublin and Cork that will be built in two years for a fraction of the cost of the one currently planned and he reveals a massive expansion of the rail network throughout the country as well as a massive reduction in ticket prices. He also unveils his plan to slash income taxes, cut government duty on alcohol and cigarettes, abolishes stamp duty and all stealth taxes, buys back Aer Lingus and provides free air travel for life to every citizen and promises that the weather in Ireland will be as good as the south of Spain.

Meanwhile the Star on Sunday exposes Bertie Ahern’s involvement in a paedophile ring which claims the lives of thousands of young boys each year and through which he has been paid millions of euros into a bank account he never had. Shocking photo evidence shows the Taoiseach sodomising a nine year old boy while giving him a reach around as the corpses of five other children lie on the floor having been worn out and shot through the back of the head by the crazed leader, off his face on Charlie McCreevy’s coke, while Ivor Callely and Brian Cowen pleasure each other with baby oil and Mary Hanafin and Willie O’Dea thrash each other senseless to sate their S&M desires.

“Let he who hasn’t snorted cocaine off the back of a small boy while pounding his arse and being rimmed by the small boy’s brother cast the first stone”, says a defiant Taoiseach on Morning Ireland. “I don’t have to tell you which boys I fucked on their communion days.”

The last poll before the election shows Fianna Fail up 20 points, Fine Gael down 19, the PDs are out of sight and out of mind, most people have copped on about the Greens, the Celtic fans are still up for Sinn Fein, the Labour party are, as always, steady as a rock, and the Big Bogman Cloth Cap party looks set win 7 seats though nobody is quite sure why.

July 07: Election day. Bertie Ahern turns up with a big wad of cash shouting “LOADSAMONEY” and a t-shirt saying “Is your son missing? I bet I know where he is.”

Fianna Fail win by a landslide. Everyone says it’s a disgrace and nobody admits voting for them.

Martial law is introduced in late July and Donegal is turned into an internment camp. Enda Kenny resigns and moves to the South of France where he becomes manager of Monaco, leading them to Champions League glory the following season.

Life goes on, the people get screwed, nothing changes.

In my own little world

by Twenty Major on January 8th, 2007

Yeah and then what I’ll do is I’ll wait for them and because I’ve won the lottery I’ll have invented all kinds of gadgets and one of them will be a hologram version of me and they’ll come in and think it’s me but it won’t be me at all and then I’ll just come up behind them and cave their head in with lead pipe and there’ll be brains and shit all over the place. That’ll be cool. Then if anyone asks me if I know what happened I’ll just be all like ‘Me? No. No idea. What a shocker’ but the best thing will be when I call up his wife afterwards and using a voice disguising thingy I’ll just say ‘Hey, I just killed your husband to death. Fatally’ and she’ll be crying and stuff and I’ll be laughing and then I’ll go to the games room in my big house where I’ll have an xBox and a Playstation3 and a Wii and a 100″ plasma screen which will have just been invented because I told the people at Samsung to invent it for me or I’d have them all killed and I’d be playing games and drinking beers and coming up with a totally evil plan to get rid of the other bloke which will probably be something cool like poisoning him and then watching him die slowly but at the last minute I’ll show myself to him and he will know how dastardly I am and instead of his last thoughts being about his family or his kids he’ll be thinking ‘Damn, that Twenty Major is a seriously dastardly cunt’ and that will please me. Of course I could just obliterate him in an orgy of violence but that’d mean I had to pay off more cops and I hate giving cops money, the filthy donkey fuckers, although lots of blood would quite cool. Then I’ll go back to my games room and have two dwarves fight to the death for my entertainment while I invite some of my friends around for some clay pigeon shooting but instead of clay pigeon it’d be folk-rock artists like David Gray and Damien Rice but not Ray Lamontagne and then I’ll kill the dwarf who actually killed the other dwarf in that fight to the death then, with my vast wealth, I will set up up my own political party ‘Fine Twenty’ with a manifesto so offensive that I’m bound to win the next general election and when I do I’ll show the people of Ireland what government is all about when I introduce new legislation to…

…oh, sorry. Was I blogging out loud?

Google is not your friend and Wikipedia lies

by Twenty Major on January 6th, 2007

what should i do if I rip my finger off and a professional surgeon puts it back on but it turns black, asks a reader from Washington, USA.

How did people survive without Google in the past?

And I just saw this.

Department of Agriculture - hahahahahaha. For fuck’s sake. I can state categorically that the only time I have had any dealings with that lot was when I tried to get an import licence for a kodiak bear and they turned me down, the cunts.

Don’t believe everything you read

by Twenty Major on January 5th, 2007

Sitting in Ron’s last night and in walked Dirty Dave holding his stomach.

“What’s up with you, Dave?”, I asked.

He farted loudly and the stench was hideous. He just held his hands on his stomach as one solitary tear wound its way down his face like a raindrop on a window pane.

“Dave, you cunt, what the fuck is up?”

“I’m ill, Twenty. I’m very, very ill.”

“Jesus. What is it? A perforated ulcer? Delhi belly from the Indian takeaway? Chrons disease? Bowel cancer? A tumour? Two tumours?”

“Celery.”

“Celery?”

“Yeah, celery.”

“You need to explain a bit further, Dave. How can celery do that to you? It’s not like eating a gone off prawn or something. If celery was gone off it’d be just mush and you wouldn’t eat it.”

“Well, you know how, like many other people, I put on a few pounds over the Christmas period?”

“If by a few pounds you mean ‘nearly doubled my own weight’, then yes, yes I do.”

“You know me, Twenty. I was a lithe, supple, sinewy example of the male form. I was sculpted, toned, buff before anyone ever used that word apart from when they talked about polishing their shoes. Now look at me. If I let my beard grow a bit people would mistake me for Mary Harney.”

“You are indeed the portly rascal, Dave, but what does the celery have to do with it?”

“Well, I was reading around on the internet about diets and which foodstuffs would be good to eat and which to avoid. I read somewhere that celery actually has negative calories which means you expend more calories eating it than it actually provides you.”

“Ok.”

“So I figured that if I ate loads of celery I’d actually be losing weight just through the act of eating. I went to Superquinn last night and bought all the celery they had. Then I went to Tesco and bought all the celery they had. Then to Dunnes and bought all their celery. At 8.15am this morning I started eating raw celery and I’d say I’ve eaten 300 stalks of the stuff. When I went upstairs to weigh myself I hadn’t lost a single pound. In fact, I’d put on nearly three stone. Not only that I’m pooing raw celery. It’s going in one end and coming out the other within minutes.”

“Dave, you are a proper moron and no mistake. How could eating a mountain of stuff make you lose weight?”

“Negative calories, Twenty. NEGATIVE CALORIES.”

“Jesus wept.”

“Anyway, I just came in for a drink which will settle my stomach. Ron, a pint of Southern Comfort, peach schnapps, Malibu, slice of lime and a Guinness head please.”

Self-help books

by Twenty Major on January 4th, 2007

I am thinking about writing a self-help book. I look at the successes of people like Allen Carr, who helped so many people stop smoking, or Billy Bob Atkins, or whatever his name was, who helped many people stop being enormous fat cunts.

However, I am slightly concerned that there’s some kind of karma thing going on. Allen Carr died of lung cancer. Atkins died of being a big, fat cunt.

What I want to do is to help people give up otter meat. In Ireland sales of otter meat have rocketed and this is not good. It’s going to turn all the men in Ireland into women. Here’s why.

Women that are on the pill urinate into the water stream but the artificial estrogen they produce does not break down and goes straight back into the water supply. It also ends up in fresh water where it is consumed by fish, birds and otters. A man then goes to the supermarket and gets himself a 16oz t-bone otter steak. He eats the steak but he’s not just eating delicious otter meat, he’s eating the women’s estrogen which builds up in his body and soon he’ll start growing breasts and he’ll get a slit in his taint which will be his mangina.

Obviously this is a big worry because otter meat is quite addictive and hard to give up so I want to write a book, produce audio CDs, do ‘workshops’ which people pay a huge amount of money to attend and go on tv and radio at every opportunity to promote my ideals.

However, given what happened to Carr and Atkins I’m worried that a gang of otters will kick me to death one night on my way home from Ron’s.

What to do? What to do?