Every day I see him walk down my road. Then a short time later he walks back and he is always busying away at scratch cards. He scratches them all the way home.
He must buy loads of them if they last him all the way from the shops as far as my house and up to his which is beyond the scabby triangle. Either that or he’s a really, really slow scratcher.
He wears a backpack of some kind. Perhaps that’s where he keeps them. He is not litter friendly either. If he loses he simply drops the card on the road and pays no heed when people call him out for his behaviour.
Sometimes he goes to shops with an elderly woman who I assume is his mother. He’s a very strange man and if, one day, I saw a story in the news which said their back garden was full of buried corpses I wouldn’t be in the least bit surprised.
I know yer woman, the scabby triangle.
The Scratch Card Killer.
He definitely has that look to him. I wonder does he break even. They look like the rehab scratch cards too, huge things
Keeps himself to himself…
http://youtu.be/nMqxNPsfN50
He could be an autistic spy, getting his mission messages via specially printed scratch cards.
“Your mission is to come back in an hour and buy another scratch card”
“Your mission is to come back in an hour and buy another scratch card”
“Your mission is to come back in an hour and buy another scratch card”
If he gets that sentence three times HM, does he win something?
What a dream scam though – any winner I’ve seen has always spent his or her winnings on buying more cards.
His backpack is his murder kit – if he stops and starts to open it, run!
His backpack is his battery motor. He’s remotely controlled by his elderly mother. She sends him out to kill her enemies in the middle of the night.
Old Mrs. Hennigan from the Green was knocked off because she baked a better Fruit Cake and Mrs. McMeniman was murdered for her superior flower arranging at St. Anges’s.
The spinster Lilly Ryan is next.
8 posts in and nobody has insulted Peadar or Limerick.
When his ma dies he’ll keep her corpse on the couch for 10 years
Eh, I think I did, way back in the first comment.
The Rehab Ripper.
I feel a call to Joe is in the offing… “It’s only a matter of time, Joe! Look at that fellah in Cumbria, this could be much worse… I rang the Guards and they said he’s done nothin’ but they shot that bloke in Abbeylara didn’t they? How come when it’s Dublin they won’t intervene? We’ll just have to keep a vigil on his house and follow him when he leaves and hope he doesn’t give us the slip…”
“We’ll just have to keep a vigil on his house and follow him when he leaves and hope he doesn’t give us the slip…”
Easy just follow the trail of losing lottery tickets.
I remember callin some young wan in Crumlin for throwin her chip bag on the ground, “Er, you dropped something there”.
Herself and her wee mates followed me around for weeks, “Hahah, ye dropped somethin mister. Fuck off ha-de-ha!”
Then they started disappearing and we had to move out of the area…
See Tom Waits – “What’s he building in there?”
First it was the Corn Flakes. Then the Coco Pops were found in a shallow grave. After that the Rice Krispies disappeared.
There was no doubt what we were dealing with.
A cereal killer?
el cuno, see Boris The Sprinkler – “Hey, Ed!”
First they came for the cornflakes…
Then it’s Cheerios, ta ta bye bye and never seen again.
He was no match for the Weetabix.
They mugged him for a Muesli few bob. He regretted leaving his Lucky Charms at home. Still, it could Alpen to a bishop.
“BNP calls for repatriation of Coco Pops.”
The BNP are flakes.
Some frosties morning he’ll slip up and readybrek his neck.
The BNP are flakes.
politiical dandruff!
His defense lawyer will surely claim diminished responsibility as his client was high on smack, crack and poppers at the time of the crime.
Naturally, the media gloried in his life as a Pop Tart.
How did he kill all those people?
They were wheaten to death.
You mean they were…?
Yes, they were glutens for punishment.
Oh my
They took the LifeForce from him – now they’re doing Porridge.
The scratch card killer is also a diabetic so I guess you could call him a sugar puff
I’m coeliac so as far as I’m interested the cereal killers can run rampant.
Hee. You’re all on fire. Funny bunnies.
I won €9 on the euro lotto today!
Coeliac Ahern?
Seal Yak?
The obvious porrige gag?
Aw Crank, you oat to know better.
Naw, milk it for all it’s worth!
It’s wheatgerm warfare out there.
Scratchy makes a START on his breakfeast by scratching the lumpy bits off the soles of his victims’ feet for cornflakes.
Then he goes upstairs for a good scratch
i think crank is trying to wind me up. kick in the crunchy nuts for him
Lactose Intolerant and non coffee or tea drinking Mrs Grimes scurried past the Scratch Card Killer trying to hide her box of All Bran for fear he’d call in the middle of the night.
“I can see it Mrs. Grimes, I know you have cereal in that shopping bag”
“No, no you can’t, I mean I don’t, how could you know?” cried Mrs Grimes.
“I soya milk”
Is this shop he goes to in the suburbs? Or is it a Country Store?
Get in!
It’s dark grey wool, three quarter length with a nice snazzy lining and good deep pockets.
Twenty – we should have a new thread with all bran new jokes.
The killer is Quaker-ing in his boots because of all the attention.
He’s even worse now, his nerves are in Shreddies.
His dead ma on the couch tells him of his fortunate personality but deep down he knows she means his lucky charms, begorrah
Sorry but Par v Jap not good for the head, cmon penos
Gardaí believe the Scratch Card Killer may be high on Special K when seeking out his victims.
His sentence?
Life, in Wheatfield.
Rice Krispies
A box of Coco Pops was spared when they managed to convince the killer that they were just made of sugar, colouring and fake shit and not in fact cereal at all.
His rice crispies don’t say snap crackle pop, they say keeeel them, keeel them after your tea
Breakfast of Champions (obviously not for Japan – sad).
That Jap who missed the penalty will have to commit hari kari.
Just when they started to sell scratch cards in Ireland I saw a guy win £10,000 in the post office. He bought a green Mazda estate with the money and drove twice a day to the petrol station where I worked for the summer. He would buy dozens of tickets every time. This sad delusion continued until what he had won was seemingly all gone.
There was a man once who was drowned in a bowl of muesli.
He got pulled in by a strong currant.