Archive for August, 2007
Aer Lingus pilots, what a bunch of cunts
by Twenty Major on August 31st, 2007
Tell you what, I’m bored off my tits listening to and reading stories about Aer Lingus pilots going on strike. What’s their fucking problem, the Ray Ban wearing cocksmokers?
Just shut the fuck up and fly the plane. Nobody wants to hear you when we’re flying but you give us a halfway report like we might be interested.
“Ladies and gentlemen … ehm … this is your pilot ..at the moment we’re …ahhh… cruising at 36.000 feet … just over the …ehh … coast of France and …uhm … we expect to make our landing at ….uhm … about …ahh…. in an hour or so. Er … weather on the ground is …ehm…”
SHUT UP you croaky voiced dick.
Now they’re in the papers and on the radio all the time. These cunts that get paid €70,000 a year or whatever the minimum is and they’re complaining about something that I don’t care about. I don’t know their beef is or what they want but I can guarantee you it’s all to make their lives easier and our lives not as easy. Or at least more expensive.
They should just fucking sack the lot of them and hire a load of ex-Lebanese fighter pilots like Ryanair did*
Or kill them. I’m all for equal rights and all that but I think anyone who goes on strike should be killed as a deterrent to the rest. Don’t like your pay and conditions? Get a new job, you moany bitch.
*Obviously not true. Obviously.
Off with them
by Twenty Major on August 30th, 2007
Hah, check this out:
Prisoners in Mountjoy are reportedly stockpiling weapons in preparation for a major riot if new security measures are introduced at the jail. Reports this morning say many prisoners have already been released or transferred to other facilities in an effort to disrupt the planned riot. Stashes of knives, broken broom handles and bricks have reportedly been found during cell searches in recent days.
Erm, these blokes are in prison, behind bars, in cells. It surely can’t be that fucking difficult to control them. If you discover something like this you simply keep the cunts locked up to wallow in their own filth until their spirits are broken.
If some of them object or still kick up a fuss make them share their cell with a bear or some kind of carrion eating bird. I guarantee you they’ll become more compliant rather quickly.
Prison really does bring out the MacGyver in prisoners though, doesn’t it?
“We’ve got a problem on C wing.”
“What’s going on?”
“Seems one of them made a thermo-nuclear device out of his toothbrush, some old stones from the yard and the macaroni they had for dinner the other week.”
“My God. Oh the humanity and such.”
No matter what you take away from them they’ll always find something else to make a weapon out of. Having given it some careful consideration I have decided that the only way to prevent this happening is to cut off their hands.
My hole
by Twenty Major on August 29th, 2007
Ireland heating up twice as fast as rest of the world
Seriously, is there another Ireland we don’t know about or something?
I got nuttin
by Twenty Major on August 29th, 2007
Seriously, I’m all typed out. Deadline for the first draft of the book is the end of this week and I am, as Mary O’Rourke would say, working like a black. In fact, I’m working like a black stapled to a Chinese laundry worker. The day goes like this:
- Get up
- Make coffee
- Drink some coffee
- Start writing
- Drink more coffee
- Continue writing
etc
Add some ‘eat food’, ‘have a piss/shit’ and ‘flit around some blogs and perhaps leave a comment’ until it’s time for ‘Go to bed’ and that’d do it.
It does leave you rather spent, so to speak. At the moment when I’m writing I keep thinking I might have used a particular line or idea before so I have to search the document then search the blog to make sure.
Plus my fingers get all tired and my neck and back are those of a very old man, which is a coincidence because I am a very old man. Well, they do say you’re only as old as you feel, right? Notice I didn’t say ‘as old as the man you feel’?
I’m saving all my terrible gay jokes for the book.
Fuck off with your mobile phones on planes
by Twenty Major on August 28th, 2007
I read yesterday that people might soon be able to use mobile phones on planes. This upsets me.
There aren’t many things that can make flying any worse than it already is but being stuck 36,000 feet in the air, waiting to die at any second, and having to listen to some cunt blabbering on his fucking phone is one of them.
“Yeah, how’re ya? Yeah? Cool. Me? Grand, yeah. Just on me way to London now. Yeah. So what’re doing? What? Can you hear me? Yeah I can hear you. Can you hear me? Right. So, what’re you doing? In work, yeah. That makes sense. Hello? Can you hear me?”
What is this fascination, this compunction, to be constantly in-touch with people? I find that most of the time when people ring me it’s shit I really don’t to hear. NTL, for example, have been phoning me at least once a month for the last 4 months asking me if I want to sign up for their telephone service and I keep telling them I don’t and to please stop calling me but they don’t stop calling. Do I need to hear from them while I’m clutching the handrest and trying to get so engrossed in my book that I stop hearing the subtle changes in the engine noise which indicate they’re about to fail any second? I certainly do not.
Nor do I need be around other people who can’t be incommunicado for longer than a 5 minute crap. The people who go to the cinema and don’t turn their phone off but put it on silent and then check for text messages every 15 minutes, the sad cunts.
I imagine if it goes through it will become the new smoking.
“Hello, I’d like to check in please.”
“That’ll be €50 on top of your flight ticket and would you prefer phoning or non-phoning?”
It would have to be though, wouldn’t it? I can’t be the only person who isn’t slightly interested in the minutae of people’s lives despite how willing most people are to share them with complete and utter strangers by having full on conversations on public transport.
Like motherfucking snakes and Al-Qaeda members, mobile phones should be kept off planes.
An open letter to my hangover
by Twenty Major on August 27th, 2007
Dear hangover,
while I understand your position in the grand scheme of things I feel I must take this opportunity to let you know how I really feel about you. You have been a part of my life for as many years as I can remember.
In a way it’s a comfort. I know that when I partake of a drink or two or eight of an evening that the following morning you will be there. I will wake up with you as surely as the sun rises in the east …erm…west…uhm… whichever one it rises in. There are the initial moments after waking when I feel you settle on my brain like a blanket of shite and I throw my mind back to see if I’ve got the fear.
Then when I get up you get up with me. Wherever I go, you follow. My head might ache, my stomach might be a bit dicky, my skin, limbs, organs, torso and extremeties might also be affected. Food may help, a shower generally does, and painkillers sometimes make you go away but you’re always there lurking in the background like a paedophile outside a primary school.
I think perhaps you try to help. You make me feel like crap so I’ll remember the next time I go drinking but I don’t remember. Not for long anyway. Once a few beers are down then any thoughts about how I might feel the next day go out the window.
The prospect of having to get up early and work doesn’t stop me. The idea that I might feel sick or get sick or get sick with poo out of my arse doesn’t stop me. Even the most vivid recollection of previous hangovers doesn’t stop me. So you see, hangovery old pal, you are pretty much useless, when you think about it.
With or without you I’ll drink beers and other delicious hooch, so I think, after making me suffer so many times over the years, it’s time for you to call it quits. I’ll keep on drinking but you find something, or someone, else to occupy you of a morning.
How about becoming a general malaise and settling down on Pat Kenny until he’s commited to an asylum? You could be a black cloud of depression over some acoustic pop star. You, being so reliable and ever-present, could be anything you want to be. It’s a waste of your talents to keep doing the same old thing over and over again.
I’ll let you away with this morning because I really haven’t explained myself to you before now, but from this moment on I expect to go out, get drunk and wake up fresh as a daisy the next morning.
Otherwise I’ll punch your face in. With a lump hammer.
All the very best to you,
Twenty
I never knew
by Twenty Major on August 26th, 2007
A report in today’s Sunday Independent about Irish artists being played on the radio says:
Critics believe that lack of airplay is the reason why albums by Dolores O’Riordan and Andrea Corr bombed.
Ahh, and here’s me thinking it was because they were shit.
The disorder of the Phoenix
by Twenty Major on August 25th, 2007
I’m Richard Delevan.
I’m Richard Delevan.
No, I’m Richard Delevan.
It’s sort of like Spartacus but without the intense homo-eroticism. Ok, with the homo-eroticism but without the loin cloths.
They seem to think it was Tricky Dicky that wrote this. Now, I know the old man with the beard and Richard Delevan are pretty similar looking but that’s some pretty shoddy work there, Phoenix.
Who will be the next Labour leader?
by Twenty Major on August 24th, 2007
Pat Rabbitte has stepped down as leader of the Labour Party. It’s a bit of a shame, I quite like him and have had a couple of entertaining conversations with him about what complete cunts some of his Dail colleagues are.
But Labour are now obviously looking for a new leader. They need something fresh. Something interesting. Something that will get the people back to Labour since they deserted when Dick Spring … hahahaha, it still makes me laugh … left. So who could be in the running?
Tony Fenton
Pros: According to the latest figures he’s winning back the hearts, minds and ears of the people of Ireland. He would certainly bring a bit of showbiz to the party and his Colegate smile would be oh so hard to resist.
Cons: Is a cunt
Steve Staunton
Pros: Just beat Denmark 4-0 in a meaningless friendly meaning he’s the greatest football manager of all time and that the Irish team is now completely excellent. Frugal with his money so would be conscious of building a good economic policy.
Cons: Nobody can bear to listen to him for more than three seconds without wanting to sew up their ears and gouge out their eyes just in case they start hearing through their eyes.
Ray D’Arcy
Pros: Despite his radio listenership going down like a teenage girl on leaving cert results night his sterling efforts during the Rose of Tralee debacle shambles shitfest extravaganza means he’s got instant credibility with the over 50s and vaguely retarded. Has a degree in psychology so could make mischief during Taoiseach’s question time with difficult questions.
Cons: Has an apostrophe in his name, the ponce.
Pros: Can take the party into the 21st century with blogs and all kinds of interactive text shenanigans. Has good appeal with the kids, although some still mix him up with Damien McCaul, so the youth vote could be a winner. Will encourage full disclosure of other politicians via a secret text section on the party website.
Cons: Rock the vote appearance, seems to be enthralled with this Banana Phone thing.
Dirty Dave
Pros: Has vast political knowledge having read Wikipedia and would cut down on the Dail bluster as nobody would be able to stand his smell apart from Jackie Healy Rae and Tony Gregory who both live in troughs of their own filth.
Cons: Is a stupid cunt
So those appear to be top 5 candidates at this moment in time. Feel free to contribute yours with pros and cons.