NTL broadband and blogspot blogs

by Twenty Major on February 28th, 2007

Is anyone else using NTL broadband finding all blogspot.com blogs unreachable?

Update: Still unreachable. Even the RSS feeds aren’t working. Useless cunts.

The tomb of Jesus

by Twenty Major on February 28th, 2007

Can you believe James Cameron saying he’s found the tomb of Jesus? Firstly, you’d have to think the leader of the Tory party would have more important things to do, and secondly, if it really was the tomb of Jesus then it would surely have been much cooler than an old stone box. This was the son of God, for fuck’s sake. It would have been totally pimped with satin cushions and a DVD player in the top of it so he could watch the box set of Twin Peaks as he was waiting to rise again.

Theologians, architects, church elders and pretty much everyone else has dismissed the whole thing as a ludicrous piece of PR designed to get people to watch the documentary he’s made. It alleges that Jesus had a son called ‘Judah’. Preposterous. Being a man of taste and a forward thinking deity he’d have called his son ‘Wayne’ or ‘Colin’. Judah sounds way too much like Jew. Or Yoda.

It put me in mind of the time I travelled to Egypt with Jimmy the Bollix and Dirty Dave. We were over there for a bit of a jolly, to watch some illegal camel racing as the Dubai tour hit the Alexandria flats and to do a bit of a repair job to the nose of the sphinx, something we never got around to.

Anyway, Jimmy and I went on the almighty piss and didn’t notice that Dave had wandered off somewhere. After a few days and it become obvious that he wasn’t around to fetch stuff for us we began to get a bit worried. Conscious of the fact people get kidnapped and blown up there quite a bit we became slightly worried when we didn’t see him for another week. We were just about to get in touch with the police when he came back covered in dust and bits of old rock.

“Where the fuck have you been?”, I asked.

“Come quick! Come quick!”, he said.

“What’s going on?”

“Well, I decided I’d do a spot of exploring and I found a hidden door at the side of one of the pyramids. On further inspection it led to a tunnel and when you pulled a lever, which looked like one of those dog-bird things, it opened into a chamber and in there was an enormous coffin. Using my rudimentary knowledge of hieroglyhpics I deduced that I was in the presence of someone important. Some more poking around and a quick unravelling of a mummy or two and I figured it out. I’d found the final resting place of Egypt’s most famous pharaoh. Come look!”

So off we went to check out Dave’s discovery. As usual it was a complete let down. After a brief inspection it became obvious it wasn’t what he thought it was.

“Dave, you cretinous spanner”, said Jimmy. “Look at this inscription here. It says that this is the sarcophagus of a very, very fat Spanish woman.”

“Oh, what?”, he said.

“Yeah,  this is no pharaoh. This is the tomb of Two-ton Carmen.”

What to do with Derry O’Rourke

by Twenty Major on February 27th, 2007

I’m amazed some people are surprised by the release of paedophile swimming coach Derry O’Rourke. No doubt he’ll get another cushy job working in a home for shy, timid, young, mute, female orphans. Jobs for the boys and all that.

Personally speaking I think we should dress him up like a dolphin and let the Japanese take care of him. They seem to have the right idea.

I fucking hate paedophiles and I fucking hate dolphins but paedophile dolphins must surely be the worst thing on earth.

About time too

by Twenty Major on February 27th, 2007

I assume you’ve seen the fantastic story about the Egyptian blogger being sentenced to four years in jail. It’s hard to feel any sympathy for him at all. You can’t just shoot your mouth off willy-nilly.

And don’t these pathetic liberals who are campaigning for his release just make you sick? A webpage - that’ll surely do the trick. For good measure why don’t you set up a petition, that’ll definitely raise awareness amongst the movers and shakers who take the time to read and sign internet petitions.

It’s about time these bloggers were put in their place. They think they can say anything they want. This’ll teach ‘em.

The Egyptian government is an example to us all.

Teen binge drinking

by Twenty Major on February 26th, 2007

Apparently the government are thinking of introducing random testing of school students to check for drink and drugs. They’re worried about this so-called ‘binge drinking’.

Minister for Children, Brian Lenihan said:

We need to find out why young people drink, how they are introduced to it and how they view excessive drinking. We will also seek views on the most effective way to deal with teen binge drinking.

Can I just take a moment to save the goverment a lot of time and effort and answer those questions? Ok, they drink because that’s what young people do and have done since time began, they’re introduced to it by their parents and older brothers and sisters who go out and get locked every weekened, they view excessive drinking as a good laugh and, in all seriousness, the best way to deal with teen binge drinking is to kill all teenagers.

You’d swear this binge drinking thing was something new. When I was a teenager, all those years ago, we’d all meet up before going out to discos or parties and get as shitfaced as we could. There was a pub down in Terenure which served the youngsters and you’d go and drink pints and drop shots of whiskey into them the same way the kids today do these Jaegerbombs or whatever the fuck they’re called.

When we were teenagers we could buy a bottle of Huzzar vodka, drink it neat, go to a party, steal things, break things and I even remember one time when somebody decided they’d have a piss in the living room so they whipped out their lad and pissed all over the couch.

There were fights outside places like the Grove and Wesley fuelled by too much hooch carried in a hip-flask and necked during the night. There were scraps outside the chipper when someone would get annoyed with someone else for standing too close to them. Road signs were taken down, giant ice-cream cones were nicked from outside shops until the Gardai passed by as you carted it home and made you turn around and put the thing back, flower boxes were gardened on Grafton Street, windows were broken, bus shelters smashed, air was let out of tyres and a million other stupid things went on.

They talk about links between alcohol and juvenile crime. Shock fucking horror. What about the links between alcohol and regular grown up crime? What’s the fucking difference? It’s hard to say that adults are better at holding their drink than teenagers when you see Dame Street on a Saturday night at 3am. Why no porgrams to combat adult binge drinking?

The whole thing is a fucking waste of money. Kids will be kids, teenagers will drink flagons of cider or naggins of vodka and do stupid things and some of them will get sick on buses or in taxis or on each other and some of the boys will fight and do stupid stuff.

So it has been since the dawn of time and thus it shall ever be so would you fucking stop wasting my money trying to find out why they do it?

And you know what’s worse? These holier than thou teenagers they get on the radio sometimes saying “If only we had better facilities for young people” blah blah blah. Shut the fuck up, you spanner. There’s always someone with a free gaff. A poxy youth centre with some volunteers who are only there to groom you isn’t really a better option.

Tomorrow, the government launches massive campaign to find out why people don’t sunbathe in Ireland.

God Save the Queen at Croke Park

by Twenty Major on February 24th, 2007

While I’m not particularly bothered one way or the other about the rugby or the playing of the English national anthem at Croke Park I can understand why some people have a problem with it (besides being small-minded GAA fuckwits).

So a compromise should have been reached. Let them play God Save the Queen but it has to be performed and sung by the Sawdoctors.

Everyone’s happy.

Worst night’s sleep ever

by Twenty Major on February 23rd, 2007

If there’s one thing worse than not sleeping it’s sort of sleeping but dreaming that you’re not sleeping. So you’re lying there desperately trying to nod off but when you do finally drift away you dream that you’re lying there trying to get asleep.

That happened to me for about 4 hours last night. Then I was freezing cold. Got up to have a slash. Took some Ibuprofen for no other reason than it was beside the bed then I lay there sweating.

I’m now as tired and worn out as Paris Hilton’s minge. Bah. I hate not sleeping.

Update: It seems Bastardface had a fitful night too as most of the rubbish in the kitchen bin seems to have been strewn about the house. He’s looking slightly ashamed. Slightly.

And it seems Throatripper has been up to his high jinks too. There’s a dead condor at the back door.

Some days…

Ashes to Ashes

by Twenty Major on February 22nd, 2007

“What the fuck is that on your forehead?”, I asked Dirty Dave as he came into Ron’s last night.

“It’s ash.”

“Are you putting cigarettes out on your face again? I thought the therapy had cured that.”

“Nah, you fool. It’s Ash Wednesday, isn’t it? It’s the first day of lent and a time when we should think of the sacrifice of our Lord Jesus Christ on a bike almighty.”

“Since when did you give a shit about that?”

“I’ve converted to catholicism, Twenty. I am born again. Hallelujah and such.”

“Dave, you mongy mong, you were born a catholic, raised a catholic, christened, confirmed and all that as a catholic. How can you convert to something you already are.”

“Ahhh, that’s where you’re wrong. Some years ago I renounced my faith and became a Buddhist.”

“You what?”

“It’s true and I lived my life according to the Four Noble Truths.”

“Which are?”

“Erm, thou shalt not not shave thou head. Thou shalt like totally do some suffering. And a couple of others. They’re not really important.”

“So how come we never noticed?”

“My faith is my own business, Twenty. Anyway, I didn’t stay a Buddhist for long. I found it unfulfilling and that Daily Llama kept calling around tea and eating all my biscuits. So I converted to Islam.”

“You did?”

“Oh yes. It’s a religion of peace, understanding, fasting and calling other people infidels. I gave that up after the Archbishop of Dublin kicked the fuck out of me outside Mount Carmel one day. He didn’t like my sign saying ‘Infidel Child Molesters Land Deal Brokers Lying Affair With Women Having Always Playing Golf Fuckers Go Home’. ”

“That must have been a big sign.”

“Aye, after that I tried to be Hare Kirshna - too many bells the robes just made my bum looks soooo big, Hinduism - I like steak too much, sacred cow my hole, Zoroastrianism - couldn’t pronounce it, Judaism - everyone hated me more than they already do, Taoism - way too profound and Jehova’s Witness - I kept knocking on my own door having inane conversations with myself. So I decided that I’d go back to what I knew best.”

“And the Catholic Church had no problem with taking you back after so publicly belittling them for years and years?”

“Not all, Twenty. Beggars can’t be choosers and all that.”

“So, now that you’re a good Catholic again what are you giving up for lent?”

“I’ve thought long and hard about this and you have to make a sacrifice so for the whole of lent I’m giving up eating Bison steak covered in green pepper sauce and served with foie gras, ciabatta bread, a 1996 Pinot Grigio Reserva while I sit on a reclining exercise bike reading a first edition copy of the Irish RM.”

“You a truly a credit to your faith, Dave.”

“Amen.”

Careful of that Red Bull

by Twenty Major on February 21st, 2007

Red Bull, alcohol and drugs ‘can spark violence’

So screams a headline in today’s paper pointing out the fact that people drinking Red Bull with alcohol while they take drugs are coming in front of the courts more after being arrested for violent incidents. Obviously the suggestion is that Red Bull, as it gives you wings, allows you to consume more drink and drugs than you normally would thus pushing you over the edge.

It is true. Dirty Dave decided he’d drink vodka and Red Bull for a while and got himself into lots of trouble. He has a cut off point in his drunkeness where he simply passes out. It doesn’t matter what he’s doing or where he is he just slips into unconsciousness. It’s happened in a taxi, I once found him asleep in a doorway on Aungiers Street and once, on one of the rare occasions that he got lucky, he went to sleep in the middle of going down on some poor woman. There’s no waking him once he’s gone either.

However, when he was on the vodka and Red Bull he was able to drink much more than his natural cut off point and so began the ructions. He’d get a bit mischevious first which might be signified by him mouthing off at other people when he really shouldn’t. Then he’d get slightly aggressive and argue loudly about the way that Eoin Hand was treated by the FAI to bring in ‘that big cunt Charlton’ - it didn’t matter that Hand never managed to qualify for any tournament and Charlton got us two World Cups. We’d have to keep an eye to make sure he didn’t go and burn down FAI headquarters.

On the nights we forgot he’d get sidetracked anyway and resort to wanton vandalism. He was once arrested for running across the roofs of a line of parked cards somewhere in Drumcondra. Sadly for him one of the parked cars was a Garda squad car with two Gardai inside eating their ham and cheese rolls.

Then on one occasion he flew to Rwanda and joined in with ‘a bit of the old genocide’. That was the final straw and we banned him from drinking it ever again.

Anyway, the point is that surely it’s all down to the person. Isn’t a little disingenuous to suggest that someone who drinks a lot of Red Bull while snorting lines of coke all night and drinking beer and does something wrong is any worse than someone who drinks a lot of whiskey and does exactly the same thing?

Is there are purer form of drunken behaviour which makes Red Bull fuelled antics so terrible? Doesn’t the fact that these people before the courts have been doing drugs not have a bearing on things? People who do lots of coke are prone to extremely aggressive behaviour and while Red Bull does give you a bit of a boost a big fat line of charlie every half an hour shits on it from a great height.

And even without drugs it’s not really the Red Bull, is it? A classic Irish solution, blame the mixer, not the alcohol.

Still, they’ll probably outlaw it and every weekend people will go to their dealers, “Yeah, give us an 8 ball, a half ounce of hash, 6 Es and four litres of Red Bull”.

Bend over and take it

by Twenty Major on February 21st, 2007

I’m sorry to go on about this but it’s just staggering.

The Government tonight confirmed a €600m buyout of the West Link toll bridge which will pave the way for barrier-free tolling next year. Transport Minister Martin Cullen said National Toll Roads (NTR) will hand over the operation of the M50 system in 2008 and will be paid €50m every year until 2020.

When it comes down to it I have a grudging admiration for the cunts at NTR. They are taking down the government’s trousers, in public, fucking them right up the arse then pulling out at the last minute and spunking all over its face. And the goverment is just lapping it up like some kind of cum loving skank.

€50m a year until 2020. Unbefuckinglieveable. There’s barrier free tolling from 2008 so the NTR employee count is negligible.

They just have to sit back and rake in the money. Sorry, sit back on their own islands that they bought and built mansions on and filled with slaves and concubines and orphans that they make fight to the death.

What a pack of jammy cunts. I wish I’d thought of a way to get the government to pay me €50m a year after I’d already creamed in millions and millions in the years before.

Do you think they need a new chief executive?