Vaporise Barney

Los Treinte Y Tres

2010-10-15T12:10:00.000-07:00

I can't get away from the uncomfortable feeling that the
Chilean Miners were poxed in luck to be trapped in that
"Third World " country rather than this Shithole of a
failed State that we call a Country.
Had we got anything worth mining, and had we got a Mining
Industry, and had our unfortunate miners been trapped
following an infrastructure collapse of some description,
I doubt they would ever have been located,never mind a
rescue attempt.
If, by some stroke of luck, they were located after 17
days, our Glorious Government, having formed a Committee
to employ Consultants, to establish a Quango, eventually
recall the Dail to inform a News Conference that there
is no money available to attempt a rescue at this time,
but that the Irish people would send down an adequate
supply of Iodine Tablets, along with some surplus Butter
Vouchers left over from the Eighties.
Not that I couldn't see a Government-Jetful of our
preening, self-important, expences-fiddling failures
of Gobshite Ministers Junketing off to Chile, but only
to ascertain the most efficient method of suppressing
Democracy.

Can they leave nuthin' alone ?

2008-12-18T00:25:00.000-08:00

There I was the other day, going about my business in a mild
and inoffensive way when I came across this !

"There is one Christmas song that has always baffled me. What in the world do leaping lords, French hens,
swimming swans, and especially the partridge who won't come out of the pear tree have to do with Christmas?

This week, I found out.

From 1558 until 1829, Roman Catholics in England were
not permitted to practice their faith openly. Someone
during that era wrote this carol as a catechism song for young Catholics.
It has two levels of meaning: the surface meaning
plus a hidden meaning known only to members of their church. Each
element in th e carol has a code word for a religious reality
which the children could remember.

-The partridge in a pear tree was Jesus Chris t.

-Two turtle doves were the Old and New Testaments.

-Three French hens stood for faith, hope and love.

-The four calling birds were the four gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke & John.

-The five golden rings recalled the Torah or Law, the first five books of the Old Testament.

-The six geese a-laying stood for the six days of creation.

-Seven swans a-swimming represented the sevenfold gifts of the Holy Spirit--Prophesy, Serving, Teaching, Exhortation, Contribution, Leadership, and Mercy.

-The eight maids a-milking were the eight beatitudes.

-Nine ladies dancing were the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit--Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness,

Gentleness, and Self Control.

-The ten lords a-leaping were the ten commandments.

-The eleven pipers piping stood for the ele ven fa ithful disciples.

-The twelve drummers drumming symbolized the twelve points of belief in the Apostles' Creed.

So there is your history for today. This knowledge was shared with me and I found it interesting and enlightening and now I know how that strange song became a Chris tmas Carol...so p ass it on if you wish.'"

It may even be true but I think it's just more revisionist
twaddle from our favourite Neo-Cons.
However, it got me thinking about the song itself and what
the words might really mean, so here goes ;

The Partridge in the tree is so obviously a Turkey that there
can be no dispute.

The 2 Turtle Doves have to be the Parents.

Three French Hens would then be their Kids anxiously awaiting
the great day.

Four Calling Birds will then be the much dreaded visit of the
In-laws.

Five Gold ( Red ) Rings demonstrate the unfortunate result
of an ill-advised visit to McDonalds during a shopping trip.

Six Lordly Geese a-milking............. come on folks,
help me out here.....................

Rather Chilly

2008-12-05T12:12:00.000-08:00

My house is one of those barns that the Greens are
always on about, you know the type, Stifling hot
all Summer and like a Cold-room in the Winter, I'd
swear I could lease it out to a butcher for hanging
meat.The reasons that the oul' insulation is not
state of the art are manyfold, laziness and meaness
among them but mainly because I've had other plans
for the property that are now on hold due to the
present economic climate.
What has this got to do with you ?, you may wonder,
and not much if the truth were to be told, ( a rare
and wonderous thing on this blog )except that my
Computer is in the Hallway of said house and it's
fucking freezing here, hence the lack of posts.
I did, however, come across this

http://www.lufthansa-usa.com/useugame2007/html/play.html

and it's great Craic altogether, if a little addictive.
I'd swear it's how Ryanair chose their Destinations.

2008-11-27T02:37:00.000-08:00

I'm not going to shoot fish in a barrel and joke about
Mary Harney's beauty treatments

But I ax you, If a single parent
asked for , say, 20 euro, for a hairdo for a job interview
what would be the answer ? Why do these Ministers and top
Civil Servants need their salaries of 200 grand plus ?,
do they ever spend a cent of their own money ?
The Chairman of Harvey Norman ( more about them later )
says the economic lanscape in Ireland is akin to the
Potato Famine and perhaps he's right except this time
it's our own who are robbing and cheating us and generally
making things worse for every one now and for the forseeable
future.
When Harvey Norman first came to these shores I forbade
Malicia from ever darkening their doors simply because
of their Ads. I refuse to be bellowed at by some loud-
mouthed Australian, so now ,fuck off and Go Harvey Go.

http://www.independent.ie/national-news/harney-the-fas-trip-and-the-410-hairdo-1554731.html

Minister for Finance

2008-11-25T09:29:00.000-08:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dNA1D1DS5Fg

X Rated

2008-11-21T12:35:00.001-08:00

Never took to Simon Cowell, the little shortarse bollix off the
X Factor, and his teeth are far too white to be wholesome,
what sort of an Englishman has those ? Is he ashamed of
his culture or what ? Not to mention his smarminess and
his wonderful opinion of himself , nor his crimes against the
aural senses.
And that was before his present incarnation wherby he, his
pet poodle bitch-boy Louis Walsh and the twins, Vapid and
Vacuous insult and degrade unfortunates whose selfish and
money-grabbing families have convinced them have a
modicum of talent, reducing them to tearful, broken wrecks
after queing for hours for the priviledge of being humiliated.
All for our delight and delectation, and to make more money
for shortarse.
This is bad enough, but having weeded out the hopeless , the
infirm and the downright useless, appalling conestants, the
circus begins to find who will win the competition and be the
Christmas no.1, the best-selling Single of Christmas week.
Cowell and his horrid crew are telling US what we will be
buying at Christmas. Only it's not us who'll be doing the
buying, the fact that you're here means you have some
semblance of a brain, so you won't fall for his shite. Nor any
of the usual suspects who chose what music they down-load
or purchase with their hard-earned. No, the only ones who
are guaranteed to fall for this annual super-con are the pre-
teens and 12/13 year olds who are desperately trying to be
cool in the eyes of their friends and siblings, making their
first foray into the few Record Stores that are left open.
This is where I have the problem in that every show from
now to the end of the series is just a glorified grooming pro-
cess for these children to get them to put whoever he, Cowell,
choses into the no.1 slot, on the week he chooses. To my mind
it is a form of legalised paedophilia.

2008-11-14T03:52:00.000-08:00

Split-Stomach Day

2008-11-11T12:53:00.001-08:00

Do you know what day it is today ? I thought not. It's only the
feast day of St. Martin of Tours, patron saint of Vintners and
Drunkards and also just happens to be the day for starting to
drink wine from the new grape vintage, tradition goes.
It was also, in my father's time, the traditional day for
slaughtering the pig that wouldn't gain any more over the
Winter, only eating and wasting valuable feed. The butchered
carcass would be layered in a tea-chest with copious quantities
of salt ,best bits on the bottom and ending up with the shoulder,
hocks, cheeks and trotters on top.
Quite often ,if it had been a very large pig, all the meat could
not be cured in this way and whatever could not be saved
was feasted on for a few days of Martinmas, the last feast
before Christmas, which is why Martinmas was always known
as Split-Stomach Day .

2008-11-06T07:32:00.001-08:00

If only some of my dogs had been this quick out of the traps !

Stateside

2008-11-05T11:29:00.000-08:00

Isn't it great to see that after 2 hard years of trials and
tribulations, even as many doubted his resolve, his ability
to succeed at the very top, where most observers felt
there to be no place for a young, vibrant non-white in a
world dominated by rich white men that the world can
no longer deny the talents of Lewis Hamilton.

Suspenders

2008-11-01T13:34:00.000-07:00

I was about to finish my story but have decided to suspend

myself for 1 week because of my unacceptable behaviour

and gross misconduct.
In the meantime I leave you a touch of class ;

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gFgA5_f8V18&feature=related

And then...............................

2008-10-16T04:53:00.000-07:00

The following takes us beyond the edge of decency, again, if you are easily

offended, I thought I told you to fuck off.

After the night I had just experienced I knew I could die a

happy man, but not just yet, not without a drink first, at least.

My temple was throbbing as much as my "head" was

last night.

" I suppose a drink is out of the question."

WHACK. Mbosi lashed the hilt across my shin.

He was not a large man, rather on the small side, petite even,

all right, he was a fuckin' dwarf and the little bollix was enjoying

our present circumstance.

" Fuck you, I want a drink."

WHACK.

Thinks......... " Rule 1, Do not aggravate a Dwarf with a bayonet "

" I am not happy." said Mbosi.

" well which one are you ?" God help me, I couldn't resist it.

WHACK WHACK.

Obviously not the first time he heard it.

Thinks............ " Rule 2, for fuck's sake, heed rule 1.

" Mr. Barney, you have something I and my large organization

want and need."

" If you keep flicking that bayonet, you'll have something I

want and need."

WHACK.

Thinks.................... " Jaysus.", says............

" Fuck you, shortarse, who let you out ? "

WHACK.

" Where did you learn to scam ? You must've gone to the

George Bush school of scamming.

WHACK WHACK...........................WHACK.

Thinks.................... Rule 1, rule 1, for fucks sake, rule 1.

" Do you know," says the little bollix, I was quite hoping you'd

be un-cooperative, we'll see how cocky you are when we're

finished with you." He reached down and produced a small

leather case and slowly unzipped it.

" O.K. Rosie, you know what to do."

Jesus, did she know. Out of the case he palmed a video camera

as Rosie begun to caress my tenderest bits. It was plain to all

that I was heroically trying to ignore Rosie's devilish ministrations,

no more than reasonably successfully when Katya intervened.

" Perhaps I can encourage him." she said slyly and Mbosi

nodded his agreement.

Thinks....................I'm bolloxed now.

She rummaged about on the table and came up behind me

with a tumbler full of Hennessy, cradled my head with one

hand and poured the French-style water-of-life into my

parched mouth and I could've sworn she gave me a con-

piratorial wink as she did so, she also " cradled " my other

bits when she'd emptied the glass.

It wasn't exactly my idea of torture, I thought, as the

brandy kicked in and the chemicals of the previous night

released their residue. I'll tell you one thing, that Rosie

knew her job, I'd swear she could suck the chrome off a

tow-bar ball-hitch. I closed my eyes and let nature and

Rosie take its course and just as the fireworks started,

the fireworks started.

Lagos

2008-10-15T11:31:00.000-07:00

The following narration takes us to the very edge of decency and good

taste so anyone among you who is easily offended can fuck off right now.

I don't know who or what they were expecting but
whatever it was, I wasn't it.
I had arrived hot and bothered with my feet feeling
like a pair of pig's trotters so I stripped off bollick-
naked and guzzled the contents of my little bar and
rang down to order more ,Hennessy, Smirnoff Blue and
Jaegermeister, at least pint bottles thereof, and don't
make me go down to yis, or there'll be wigs on the Green.
So I perforformed my ablutions, s,s&s and was busy
modelling one of those towelly dressing-gowns, Jesus,
do they not make them in mens sizes ? Think of a cross
between a Sixties Brigitte Bardot and the Incredible Hulk,
nice legs though.
My reverie was interupted by a light tap on the door, too
light for a porter, I thought, as I answered and how
right I was because what met my gaping face was one
of the tallest, darkest, most sensual women I had ever
clapped eyes on followed by an even more exotic blonde.
" Mr. Mbosi sent us to keep you company until he can
join us." purred Rosie
" He hopes you will excuse his tardiness " added Katya
as they introduced themselves.

They then proceeded to do more for me than any
woman has done for a long time. Katya managed to
tune Sky Sports in ,which I had been unable to do,
while Rosie poured me a tumbler of Smirnoff Blue
and rang room service for some Champagne and 3
plates of Lobster Thermidor, the speciality of the
hotel.
As the evening passed I pretended not to notice them
adding something to each drink they fixed for me and
I can't say what it was thay added, I do, however,
know what I added to theirs. You have never lived
'til you see the effect an Ecstacy and a Cialis tablet
have on even the most modest of women, and this
pair of beauts were certainly far from modest.
I popped a couple of Dexys myself in case whatever
they had given me was not strong enough and
watched them getting jiggy with each other, suffice
to say, there was not a dry seat in the house.
Such a fucking night we had, or should that be the
other way around.
I was awakened rather roughly the next morning
by our Mr. Mbosi, as I discovered him to be,
poking a knife into my goolies and when I tried to
jump up found my wrists handcuffed to either
side of the Four-poster.
He held in his hand a bayonet of some sort with a large hilt

affixed to a blade which must have been at least a foot long

and he was flicking at my balls as a fisherman would flick lice off

a wild Salmon.

Never saw it coming.

2008-10-12T10:33:00.000-07:00

" What would you like for Christmas this year?"
"There is nothing you have not given me already."
"But there must be something, my darling."
"Absolutely nothing, my precious "
" Would you like a new hat ? "
"I have at least twenty."
"A nice grey Homburg, my dearest ? "
"I really don't think so, light of my life. "
"Matching gloves and scarf, blood of my veins ? "
" Really Ellie, there is nothing I want "
"My poor Nikki, you've been so down lately that I
just wanted to take your mind off things."
"Things will improve in the new year, you'll see, we
might take a long weekend somewhere."
"Really Nikki, Where would we go ?"
"Oh, anywhere, Moscow, perhaps."
" Thats exactly what we need, I really don't think I
can cope with any more bad news at the moment,
its just one thing after another."
"I've told you ,dearest Ellie, we'll be allright, we
did not make the same silly mistakes all the
others made."
" But they all seemed so strong, so secure."
" Their foundations were shaky and they took their
eyes off the ball, gave too much, too easily."
" Its heartbreaking to see them drop, one by one."
" It won't happen here, dearest Elena "
" you said it wouldn't happen in Poland." She sighed,
" Or Hungary, or Czechoslovakia and two weeks ago,
Bulgaria."
" We've ruled here for 21 years, they wouldn't dare,
besides, the people love us." said Nicolae.

One week later, this happened on Christmas Day 1989.

I wonder was it the same for the Aztecs just before the end?
Were the citizens of Rome, even as Aleric and his horde of
Visigoths advanced on their once great city, still hoping for
some kind of miracle, as their leaders faffed about with
mickey-mouse solutions ? Did they not see the end coming?
Do we ?

Who wants to be ..........................

2008-10-05T06:07:00.000-07:00

For my friends, Doc. & Kim.....

Some of you may have been wondering where I was and

what I was up to for the last while and the simple answer is

that it's none of your damn business, sorry, only joking.

Funnily enough , the truth is much stranger than any

fiction my warped mind could conjure so brace yourselves,

pour a stiff one and sit back while I relate all that I can

remember about the beginning of an eventful time. If there

is any lie in what follows, it wasn't me who put it there and

all characters are non-ficticious.

Malicia and me had been going through one of our rough

passages, not the marriage, I hasten to add, that was as

bad as ever and nothing changes there but financially

things were getting a bit ropey with some of the tenants

falling behind with their rent. Then there had been a

series of bad decisions made on the oul' equine front but

worst of all my Organic Local Farmer's Market stall had

been closed down by the Corporation because of a raft

of spurious suggestions, allegations and petitions that my

goods were not organic or local and furthermore had the

flimsiest aquaintance with farmers of any description. I

might be able to grow figs, kiwi fruit and blood oranges for all

they knew, the fuckers, organic ones at that.

Things had become so bad that Malicia had to forego her daily

chin, moustache and leg waxing sessions and go twice weekly

instead. If the situation got any worse I would have to send

some of my girlfriends back Pole-dancing while any further

deterioration in my finances would necessitate taking some

of the Gardai off my payroll, don't talk to me about appalling

vistas.

So there I was one morning about to start a busy day at the

office, i.e. log into Betfair, when I decided to check my

e-mails and holy fuck, hadn't all my prayers been answered.

There it was, in black and white, hadn't I only gone and won

$ 1.5 million on the Nigerian Lottery. Now this was a complete

surprise to me as I had completely forgotten to play it that

week so I could only assume that they were working a back-

week or something like that. Now I know what you're thinking

and I had heard some vague rumours as well about possible

scams emanating from Nigeria but this notification was from

a bank manager so God bless their little black arses was all I

could think, my just reward for all the pennies I gave to

" the Black Babies " as a chiseller, fair play to me. All I had to

do was to send some of my bank details to a Mr. Mbosi at the

Royal Nigerian Bank in Lagos. Fuckin' sure, says I, and I did.

I suppose you know whats coming next, well you don't,

smart-arse. I went on an unholy bender for 10 days and

only finished when I came to in Holyhead in a taxi on the

way to a Registry Office where a "Quare One " had

persuaded me to marry her, but thats another story and I'll

tell you about it some other time.

So I sneaked home, waited for Malicia to leave and went in

to check the mail. Sweet Gee, do you know what was left in

my bank account, of course you do, there was sweet fuck-all.

The sneaky fuckers had only gone and sucked out my com-

plete overdraft of 167,453 euros and 49 cents, which the

bank had been trying to retrieve for ages, and left me with

no hold over the bank manager, and worse still, no winnings.

Even to my addled brain those exchange rates didn't calculate

correctly and $1.5 mill. did not equal E 167,453.49 so I

reckoned someone owed me about 950.000 euros, fuck it,

call it a million and I'll say nothing. Now, who to collect it

from ?, and where could I find this little bollix, Mbosi.

You won't believe this, but just then the 'phone rang and

who do you think it was, yes, some fucker selling kitchens,

and while I was giving him his pedigree the 'phone bleeped

and this time who was it only the bould Mbosi himself,

bold as brass.

" I think we should meet, Mr Barney. " says he.

" Theres some explaining to be done all right." says I.

Which is how I found myself in the top floor suite of

the Sheraton Lagos Hotel and Towers.

Result

2008-10-05T05:57:00.000-07:00

Such was the power of this blog that two days after
that last posting the sneaky little bollix resigned and
as some of you may know, Ireland voted to reject the
Lisbon Treaty and hopefully save Europe from even
more Scutterology ( abuse of power by unelected
un-civil servants).

Lisbon Treaty

2008-04-01T07:05:00.000-07:00

Anyone who has no great interest in Politics ,has no interest in the E.C. or

has no interest in the future of Ireland will be dazed and confused by all

the furore about the upcoming Referendum on the Lisbon Treaty.

The answer is simple, Just wait to see what the Liar Ahern advocates,

then go out and Do the opposite.

Not My Work

2007-02-20T02:45:00.000-08:00

I didn't write this, but I wish to fuck I did.

I got it in an e-mail, but I like to think it is something that I might
have posted if I was still active.

RTE News 15th February 2007 18.02

British & Irish Governments Plan Ceremony in Croke Park Northern IrelandMinister Peter Hain has announced details of a joint ceremony before Irelands crunch game against England in Croke Park on the 24th February.The significance of the game is not lost on GAA followers and republicans who remember the infamous shooting of 14 players and supporters by the British Army on the 21st November 1921.However according to GAA spokesman U Magee a plan being devised by the GAA and the Northern Ireland office, will attempt to draw a line under the incident."We've spoken to the British government and they understand the significance of the event back in 1921. Back then 14 people were killed by British forces so in the spirit of the peace process and friendship we're proposing that we shoot 14 of their lot before the match. Then maybe have fireworks afterwards or something." Said Mr Magee.

Government Reaction

The plan has had a mixed reaction from Downing Street. Prime Minister Tony Blair thinks the idea has merit but said that it needs to be done properly and with dignity."Frankly I think its a small price to pay for progression in Anglo-Irish affairs, but I think the idea of getting Ray Houghton to do the shooting would be too much for many English fans to take particularly after his goal against us back in 1988. And he's Scottish which is worse."

Proposed Victims

According to informed sources, the GAA and Number 10 have already drawn up a list of names for those to be shot. The list, which is not yet agreed, is thought to be a compromise of people that both the Irish and English public dislike. Among the names are moaney-hole singer James Blunt, foul mouth idiot Jade Goody, Trinny & Suzannah, Man Utd donkey Rio Ferdinand, cream cake expert Vanessa Feltz, "comedian" Russell Brand and any of the blokes who do outside broadcasts for Sky News.But discussions took an ironic twist when both sides agreed on shooting Belfastsinger Brian Kennedy, but neither side agreed on what nationality he was. GAA representatives claim he's British with their Foreign Office counterparts claiming he's Irish. The Irish claimed no Irishman should sing or dance in such a manner and the English saying he couldn't be a Brit because he had no tattoos on his forearm and didn't wear Ben Sherman shirts. However there was eventual consensus that he should be shot regardless of his nationality.Plans agreedThe shooting will be carried out my members of the 2nd Infantry Battalion from Cathal Brugha Barracks in Dublin. The original idea to get the FCA to carry out the executions were dropped when they revealed that their rifles are in fact made of baked-plastercine. Similarly the Garda Emergency Response Unit was discounted for fear they'd shoot more innocent civilians then claim overtime for it.

Too Good Not to Share

2006-12-17T16:08:00.000-08:00

This is an actual emergency room photo of a fisherman who lost control of his high-speed bass boat in West Virginia . Wardens believe that he was traveling at a speed of approximately 75 MPH at the time of the accident.He was unable to negotiate a curve in the narrow waterway.Unfortunately for him, upon striking the shoreline and being ejected from the boat,he landed back end first on an old fence post. You can probably picture what happened next, but the attached picture really says it all.The good news is that after about 6 months, this man made a full recovery after suffering a shattered hip, broken leg, several broken ribs, internal injuries and soft tissue damage. Doctors credited his recovery to the fact that the post lodged itself so tightly that there was little or no blood loss. Now that's got to hurt!!!

Where's me fuckin' dog ?

2006-09-08T15:10:00.000-07:00

This blogosphere has gone to fuck,I just stepped out for a
minute and some whore's bastard robbed my guard-dog.
If you come across him, let me know and there'll be a
bottle of Jaegermeister in it for you.You'll know it is him
because of the teeth-marks you'll have all over your body.

As I'm here.

All I'm saying is , wouldn't you have to feel a bit sorry for
that Wolfgang Priklopil,imagine,eight years without a
holiday,or even a day off.

From the Navajo Beautyway Healing Chart.

2006-07-28T16:49:00.000-07:00

All that has harmed me will leave me,

leaving my body cool once more.

Within me today,I shall be well.

All fever will come from me,

and leave me,leave my brow cool.

I will hear today

and see today

and be my own true self today.

This is the day I shall walk.

This is the day when all that is ill will leave me

and I shall be as I was,

as I walk in a cool body.

This day onwards I shall be happy

for nothing will prevent me.

I shall walk and beauty will go before me.

I shall walk and beauty will be behind me.

I shall walk and beauty will be above me.

I shall walk and beauty will be beneath me.

I shall walk and beauty will surround me.

I shall walk and speak of beauty.

For the rest of my days I shall be whole,

for all things are beautiful.

Sin e.

A.B. has left the building.

Chosen People me Arse

2006-07-21T09:14:00.000-07:00

If there is a God he chose the wrong fuckin' people.

A pox on the bloodthirsty bastards and their warmongering
sponsors.

20 Eyes for an Eye.

2006-07-15T14:15:00.000-07:00

I was going to have a rant about the Israelis today but there
really is no point as they have the most effective and efficient
public relations outfit that has ever been known.The only one
that has ever come close to them belongs to the murdering
babykillers we have up the North.You would have to wonder
why anyone ever asks a spokesperson from Israel or from
Sinn Fein anything because all you ever get is the usual oul'
"poor us" spiel that they've been spouting for years,everything
is everybody's fault but theirs,no matter who they happen to
be holocausting.All I'm saying is that they've learnt well from
the real founder of the state of Israel,Mr. A. Hitler.

Just sometimes you'd think that it might almost be worth not
having any petrol for a while because of some Hamas splinter
group having some kind of Dirty bomb.All I can do is not buy
any Avocado pears or other "Carmel" brands.Cunts.

Two Fingers.

2006-07-08T18:16:00.000-07:00

You don't have to like John Prescott,or admire him,but you have

to take your hat off to him,he's got a neck like a jockey's bollocks.

The press hate him,as do the media in general,put none of them

has landed the killer blow,as yet.His own party has as little regard

for him as the opposition,and still he hangs on in there,collecting

his obscene wages,pocketing all the expences he can manage while

living in luxury at the tax-payer's expence.On top of this,he has a

huge index-linked pension to look forward to,and in August he

gets England to play with,as his own,for a few weeks.

How the fuck does he get away with it ? What does he know ?

He acts like he hasn't a care in the world,maybe he hasn't.He is

the exact specimen for which the word Bufoon was invented,the

reason for his continuing existence is unclear,he is as useless as

Kerry Katona ,but still.......

Why shouldn't he play Croquet,its only a game for useless oul'

wankers anyway,and wasn't it refreshing to see his reaction

having been caught porking (how apt ) his secretary.By the way,

they did seem to be having right craic in those photos,but anyway,

he didn't do the normal cowardly thing and blackmail his wife into

posing with him while telling the world that she'll stand by him.

I bet she kicked the bollix out of him,I'd say the press was the

least of his problems when the news broke,tee hee.

What I say is,if somebody gets up so many peoples noses,he

must be doing something right.And ask yourself this,if you had

to go for a pint with Tony Blair,Gordon Brown,David Cameron or

John Prescott,who would you rather be stuck with ?

Bad News

2006-07-01T12:30:00.000-07:00

They say that bad news/bad luck comes in threes.

If fucking only.Thats all I'm saying.

I hit a new level on the oul' gargling front this week,and me
after being reasonably good for ages.Last week can't be
counted as someone gave me a litre of Paddy,but in fairness
to me,I got nearly four days out of it,but there was also trips
to the pub.And wine and beer to help with the pressures of
cooking and eating,and online gambling.

I mean,who would have thought they were serious about that
50 K.P.H. speed limit on the Naas dual-carriageway,fifty,for
fucks sake,three lanes,straight road,broad daylight,5.15 A.M.,
dry conditions,140 K.P.H.,2 more penalty points,cunts.

So I was rooting around for a drink yesterday and the choice
boiled down to beer,which wasn't what was required,Baileys (puke)
or a bottle of Mulled wine,talk about Hobson's choice.Still,it
wasn't too bad once I got halfway down.

I mean,if you were doing 50 in those conditions,you might be in
danger of stepping out of the car to see if you were stopped.

Haughey

2006-06-15T10:31:00.000-07:00

Bearing in mind that the Irish don't speak ill of the dead.

Hoch Ptoooooo.

Barbeques are Cunts

2006-06-11T14:18:00.000-07:00

I have been threatened with a barbeque this afternoon after
skillfully avoiding having one all year, and last, by using the
simple,yet effective method of lying about the weather fore-
cast.You see I am very good at forecasting the weather,unlike
those gobshites in the Met. office.As the weather was important
to my work in a previous incarnation I became quite adept at
reading the charts and coming up with my own conclusions
with the result that my word (on the weather) is gospel in our
house.

As in "What,barbeque today ?,are you mad ?, sure its going to
piss rain." or

"Barbeque in that lazy wind,it'd rather go through you than
around you." or

"Yes,why not,we should be finished before the rain comes."

I am still very accurate ,when it suits me,but for some
strange reason nobody listens to me anymore ???

Two years ago, in a moment of madness,I let Malicia talk me
in to buying one of those new-fangled gas barbeques that does
everything for you, including ruining your food,only more eff-
icently.We'll stop right here while I mention that,as I have said
before,even though I am a very slow,one-fingered typist,I ref-
use to use that horrible word baaaaaaaaarby as it seems to
make the whole proceedings sound even more common and
distasteful.So,getting back to the purchase of the gas-b.,the
novelty of having Malicia cooking outside continued all that
Summer and I took a rest from the kitchen.I normally do
most of our cooking because I'm not bad at it,have the time
and find it to be less of a chore than Malicia does, so fair's
fair,eitherways,she enjoyed the novelty in much the same
way as normal husbands presumably do.

I have no objection to barbeques in theory,in theory they're
fine,its the actuality with which I have problems .Firstly its
the waste of good food that I deplore,no food tastes better
for having been incinerated,in fact it is rare to be served fare
that is reasonably above the standard of edibility.Even if the
cook manages to get some of the meat/fish ready for con-
sumption without destroying it completely,they will surely
make a bollix of something else to be served,the potatoes
too raw or burned,the coleslaw sour,the asparagus as black
as a porn star's micky.

If you are having a b. in your own garden,there seems to be
more preparation involved than for a full Christmas Dinner,
except you have to carry all your stuff outside,and you will
have forgotten several items,involving many more trips back
to the house.Someone has to do the marinades and make
the relishes and dips,me,and carry out the awkward and
heavy stuff,me.

If you have forgotten what happened last time and invite a
few guests,they hang around like Seagulls,watching every
move you make,or worse,offering to help.And theres always
one,isn't there.Oh you know who you are,in spite of all the
warnings from his/her partner to behave themselves this
time and that an eye will be upon them at all times,still man-
age to escape the watcher and make an absolute Poultice of
themselves,forgetting or ignoring the fact that Sun,Gargle
and empty stomachs do not make great bedfellows.

We won't even mention the flies,bluebottles and other insects
that exist solely to irritate us,when not pre-occupied with
spreading disease across our food.Or the arsehole neighbours
who must be watching through binoculars before rushing out
and starting the grass -cutting relay,as soon as one bastard
stops another starts,sometimes with a strimmer.I swear to
fuck,even though our nearest neighbour is 100 yards away,
he made so much noise yesterday,I couldn't hear myself fart,
including during the match.What sort of heathens are these
people ?

No,give me good food,well prepared and all ready at the same
time,civilized .

Anyway,I think its going to rain.

Exams

2006-05-30T12:45:00.000-07:00

It is that time of year again when unfortunate kids the length
and breadth of the country are plunged into despair over the
prospects of taking their exams.The fact that these exams will
have a huge bearing on their careers and lives make them al-
most unbearably stressful.

It will probably come as a shock to most of you that I reached
Leaving Cert. standard many years ago,but we have all passed
a lot of water under the bridge since then.I have sometimes told
this story to a particularly forlorn student if the mood took me,
and because I'm in an uncharacteristically good mood this after-
noon,have decided to share it with you although I do not advoc-
ate the following of my example as not everyone can carry the
burden of guilt as easily as myself.

As generations of students before me and plenty after were told,
"Don't attempt to cheat,under any circumstance,or you will be
caught and you'll bring disgrace on yourself,your family and
the school,you'll never get away with it.Well I ploughed my way
through most of my exams in a mostly honest manner,all the time
being aware that the Supervisors,who were our soon to be ex-
teachers,had little or no interest in the proceedings and seemed
more intent on the perusal of the daily newspapers.

On the last day of the exams I decided to go for it and armed my-
self with all the notes,text-books and answer-books that might
prove useful and took my place with the rest of the students. I
suppose if this was a fable,I would say that I got caught cheating,
decided to mend my ways and become a better person, but I
didn't,which is how,much to the surprise of my teacher, I man-
aged to achieve Honours in Latin.

Quod erat demonstrandum.
(or whatever it should be.)

Blunt the useless cunt

2006-05-25T13:09:00.000-07:00

I heard this yesterday and thought it was a gas.

Salad Days

2006-05-09T13:18:00.000-07:00

I'm not a great fan of the Summer because it makes people
unseemly happy and for no great reason.People you are after
seeing all Winter traipsing about with pusses like Celine Dion
suddenly have springs in their steps and idiotic grins on their
faces.

It would churn your stomach to see couples walking about,
hand-in-hand,smiling inanely at each other.Even worse are
the families with one of those stupid looking go-fast buggies
with the wheel out in front like a Chopper in Easy Rider. No,
it suits me better when everyone is just as miserable as me.

As far as I can see,the only good thing about Summer is that
you can use butter (real butter) without resorting to a hammer
and chisel.

2006-05-07T12:21:00.000-07:00

Now I'm not a violent man,despite my size,weight and strength.
Apart from the time that I tried to twist a fellow's head off his
shoulders when he pissed me off at a party(Its quite difficult but
I'd always wanted to twist someone's head off).

And apart from that chap in the sportscar who had cut me up
in traffic and sneered as he went past.Well he wasn't sneering
when I caught up with him at the next set of traffic-lights!

And apart from that teenager whose leg I broke with a kick
when I caught him stealing drink from my van one Christmas
eve.

And apart from the dozens of people upon whom I've threatened
to visit violence over the years(but never had to ).

Well maybe I am a Little violent and I've a good mind to go
over and have a word with oul' Go-be-the-wall Maroon who
is openly canvessing for replacements for myself and Binty.
No sooner had me'n'Binty sat down to rest our weary bones
when the treacherous oul' bollix is out,batin' the ditches for
extras to use in "Gothic."
You wouldn't mind but an educated man,like he's supposed to
be,should have realised that he'd have to bate 4 or 5 bloggers
into one to encapsulate the diversity of characters either of
us are or manic depressives,in other words.
The sheer gall of the little sleeveen,he's like a sweetheart who
suggests a trial seperation and then you see her warin' the
face off half the school disco,you fuckin' bitch,Janet.
As I've said,I've a good mind to go over and.......

In case you're wondering.....

2006-05-06T22:03:00.000-07:00

A dark and terrible misfortune has befallen your oul' pal,Barney,
something so dreadful that I did not see it coming,had not imag-
ined it in my worst nightmares.
There I was,minding my own business,in a mild and unassuming
manner when an (ex) friend made me an offer I couldn't refuse.
The fuckin' bastard only offered me work, in front of Malicia.
What sort of a low-down scumbag does a thing like that? I mean,
fairs fair,but thats below the belt.I know I said somewhere that
I havn't decided whether I am between employments or just
early-retired, and I hadn't,but where am I supposed to find time
to work?
I don't mind doing little bits of work and the money does come
in handy,but its so fuckin' time consuming.
Before I had a chance to think up an excuse,Malicia nearly took
my ankle off with a well timed kick and all I could splutter was,

"Well if you're stuck I..."

"Great,Ill pick you up at 4.30 in the morning."

Bollix.So thats what happened,in case you're wondering.Missed you.

2006-05-01T11:41:00.000-07:00

When the fields are white with Daisies....

I'll return.

Schoolyard Bullies

2006-04-25T20:23:00.000-07:00

The only bright side to America's insidious influence over the
world is that ALL previous empires have fallen and are now
without pots within which to piss.Strictly speaking,America
is not an empire but her culture and influence are more far-
reaching than say,the British empire where the Sun never
set.Well the Sun cannot set on the American empire since
they annexed the Moon and Space.None of us will ever live
to see America become the butt of jokes like Little Brittainers,
Italians and Greeks have but we can rest assured that happen
it will.

We can even have a sneaky snigger at the loud-mouthed fat
bastards that waddle our way this Summer in the knowledge
of what will become of their off-spring.Don't be tempted to
feel sorry for them either because out of every group you
meet,at least half of them will have voted for Bush.Now theres
a fuckin' beaut.

Georgie boy,Dubya,the missing link,brain-dead pox-bottle,
cruel-as-Caligula cunt.I, for one,havn't bothered commenting
on the little bollix for a while because for one it is just too easy
to mock him,God knows,he he gives enough reasons but also
because he is mid-way through his final term and he can't do
much more to fuck-up the world,can he ? Of course he can and
what he is considering doing in Iran doesn't bear thinking about
but that is not the frightening thing.

What is frightening is who WE are going to be inflicted with
next. I say we because as leader of the free world he will be
our president as well, God help us.As far as I can see the Dem-
ocrats have Hilary Clinton and no one else and you can forget
about her as middle America is too backward to elect a woman.
No,the Republicans have perfected the Neo-Con right-wing
cloning machine and will have some red-neck none of us have
ever heard of puffing out his chest even as we speak,ready to
carry on the crusade.

Meanwhile Bush and his henchman Rhumsfeld strut the world
like schoolyard bullies,picking on the weak,Iraq and Afghanistan,
while avoiding the other bullies, China and North Korea,lest
they be given bloody noses.

G'luck.

Genesis,Yes,Wishbone Ash.

2006-04-23T18:03:00.000-07:00

God looked down on what she had created and was pissed-off.
She was extremely concerned at the number of her children
who were addicted to blogging and disgusted at the blasphemy
there over the past few weeks.

"Enough." She said.

Genesis 19:15 KJV
"And when the morning arose, then the angels hastened Barney, saying, Arise, take thy wife, and thy two daughters, which are here; lest thou be consumed in the iniquity of the Blogoshere. 16 And while he lingered, the men laid hold upon his hand, and upon the hand of his wife, and upon the hand of his two daughters; the LORD being merciful unto him: and they brought him forth, and set him without the city. 17 And it came to pass, when they had brought them forth abroad, that he said, Escape for thy life; look not behind thee, neither stay thou in all the plain; escape to the mountain, lest thou be consumed."

And Barney said,"Lord,they can't all be bad,let me try to save
the decent souls therein."
The Lord answered,"Show me two decent men and I'll spare
everyone."

Barney hastened forth and came first upon Maroon,a notorious
Apothocary and man of ill repute.A short conversation confirmed
his mind to be infested with impure thoughts and deemed to be
beyond redemption.

A comely woman approached in the distance,raising Barney's
hopes of finding some decency but on nearing him she snagged
one of her 6" heels on the cobblestones and issued forth such
foul language that the saintly Barney had to cover his ears.

Much wailing and gnashing of teeth emanated from a dwelling
on a sidestreet and upon entering,Barney perceived a bearded
man laid out with a crowd gathered around his lifeless corpse.
The weeping women were so distrought that tears mingled with
mucus from their mouths and noses dripped on to the life-less
body,covering its face and beard with a saline residue.Even as
he looked,the body stirred and to gasps of horror sat bolt up-
right and issued a string of profanities at the fleeing crowd.

Next up,Barney's little heart was gladdened to meet Kim, a
renowned gentleman and held in the highest esteem by all he
encountered.Although he had been known to take amusement
from the blasphemy of others he was not,himself,a blasphemer.
Writing Kims name in a notebook,he continued his search.

Presently he came to the house of the Vestal Virgins from
whence he heard the sound of a woman sobbing.

"I'll surely get some names for the notebook here." Thought
Barney as he entered the portals and followed the sound of
the distressed woman.For that is what she was when he
found her,the most beautiful woman he had ever seen,her eyes
red from crying,her cheeks black from running mascara.

"Whatever is the matter,my dear,and where is everyone?

"They've all f f f fffff...." she sobbed

"Fallen ?"

"Fffffffff........"

"Fell into evil ways ? "

"Fffffffff........."

"Fornicated ?"

"Fffffffff........." There now,my dear,take a deep breath and tell
me your name.

"Its Lindy."sniffed she.Barney took out his notebook and began
to write her name in to it.

"They've all fucked off." Wailed Lindy,tears flowing again.

"Gone to the Brothel have they ?To become ladies of easy
virtue,have they ? Gone to earn some easy money,have they ?"

Lindy continued to cry but now they were tears of rage.

"Its fucking arseholes like you that have women like us living
in the Stone-age,seeing us as either virgins or whores you
pathetic little gombeen."

"But but."

"But me arse,I'll have you know that it was sheer boredom
that drove those women out,back to their careers."

"But I thought........."

"Thought is it,you need brains to think.Do you know Andraste
ran her own Camel train before she was brought here and Sam
had two businesses going.Miss Beauty,Miss Clairwil and the
new girl,Miss Stroppy all have their own lives to lead."

"But surely you......?"

"I was asleep when they all left or I'd have gone as well,I've
two books to finish writing,and two more to translate so if
you think I've nothing better to do than hang around and
play the Vestal Virgin for wankers like you then you've got
another think coming,arsehole."

Barney turned and walked slowly away,crossing out the Li he
had written in his book. His head reeling from the lecture,he
sought out the solace of his local,the appropriately named
"Den of Iniquity" where all forms of debauchery were encour-
aged by owner/manager,the notorious XX Major.It was here
that all the outwardly good citizens showed their true colours;
The gentle and wise primate cruelly prodding his human slave
to make him dance for the amusement of his fellow drinkers,
the flame-haired joker who had made his name in family enter-
tainment now regaling all and sundry with the most vile and
disgusting tales of perversion.There was the local doctor who
sated his fetish by licking the feet of leprous women,

"Here try one Barney,its not contagious."As he offered a
scabby foot,its owner grinning lasciviously through cracked
and bleeding lips.

"Maybe later."He made his way to the bar where he joined two
school-teachers who unfortunately for Barney had been there
all day and had just been refused more credit.

"Gis a tenner." Said Brewski,the drunker of the two.

"Go on,gis a tenner ,each ."Said Binty,his companion.

"You'll have to earn it, on your knees." Joked barney and pre-
tended to fumble with his fly.

"Ill give you knees, You dirrrty bastard." As he headbutted
Barney in the face,and Binty joined in by kicking him in the
ear as he went down.

"Get a doctor." Said XX.

"Not him." Said Barney as the fettishist approached.

Another doctor came out of the backroom,where he had been
dallying with what looked like a woad-coloured bearded lady,
but nobody had ever seen such a fur covered bearded lady
before.The doctor lanky,balding and bearded, seemed to float
across to Barney where he felt his pulse,fondled his testacles
and robbed his wallet.

Much sadder and very much wiser,Barney made his way home,

"Fuckin' shower of cunts." He thought as he tried to stop the
bleeding,

"Fire'n'Brimstone,whatever the fuck that is, is too good for
them, the cunts."

Outside his gate, Barney met Kim again.

"What was that list for,Barney ?" When Barney finished expl-
aining the reason,Kim exclaimed,

"You mean God is going to destroy the whole city ?"

Barney nodded.

Kim,aghast, "What a cunt."

Barney reached into his pocket and removing his notebook,
he tore it in bits and threw it in the air.Kim gave him a look
of disgust and said,

"Its litterbugs like you that have this city as bad as it is."

"Thats the least of your problems." Said Barney and went in
to help Malicia pack.

Malicia looks back

Genesis 19:23 KJV
"The sun was risen upon the earth when Barney entered into Zoar. (24)Then the LORD rained upon The Blogoshere brimstone and fire from the LORD out of heaven; (25) And he overthrew those cities, and all the plain, and all the inhabitants of the cities, and that which grew upon the ground. (26) But his wife ,Malicia, looked back from behind him, and she became a pillar of salt."

Morto

2006-04-20T11:38:00.000-07:00

I was leaving Fairyhouse the other day,in a mild and inoffensive
manner,a little sadder and wiser than I had been three hours
previously.I had left during the second last race to avoid the
traffic and it was very quiet outside except for the Hawkers who
had been facing the crowds as they entered,now had their stalls
turned towards the exits.

"Any apples or pears,mister ?"

"No thanks."

"Ah go on mister,bring 'em home for the youngsters."

"No thanks, sure don't I sell them meself." This usually got me
off the hook but the old crone was persistent.She switched tack.

"Toblerones or chocolate then."

"No thanks."

"Ten for a fiver,take your pick,the last few."

"No,I'm ok.,thanks."

"Don't be so mane,go on, for the kids,ten for a fiver."

"They're sick of chocolate,no thanks." If its one thing kids
don't need more of at Easter,its chocolate.Don't talk to me
about skid-marks.

"Ya grumpy oul' fecker,givvus the fiver anyway."

"Tell you what,come around the back of the stands with me
and earn your fiver."Now this oul' fuck was eighty if she was
a day and could easily have been the foster-mother Mick
Jagger sang about on Jumpin' Jack Flash and I didn't even
think she heard me.Wrong.

"Ya dirty oul' thing,Mary,Mary,did you hear what he said.
Ya dirty thing,ya dirty oul' thing."Her voice got louder
and shriller,

"Mary,did ya hear him,ya dirty oul' thing."

"How much did you say the chocolate was ?"

"I'll sell ya nuthin',ya dirty oul' thing."

I could still hear her giving out as I got into my car,hundreds
of yards away,talk about tail between me legs,I thought out
I'd never get.

Serves me right.

2006-04-19T13:24:00.000-07:00

God,the vindictive oul' bitch,got her own back on
me today.

I was tortured and robbed this morning and am feeling very
sorry for myself.

But far worse than the actual extraction was the Dentist telling
me to avoid smoking and alcohol(underlined) for the rest of the
day.So far so good with the smoking but the whiskey tasted funny
through a straw.

What really happened

2006-04-16T17:18:00.000-07:00

His eyelids were stuck,his throat was dry,every bone in his body
ached and his tongue felt like a cow camel's clitoris after a sand-
storm.He had,he thought,the worst hangover in history,the
mother of all hangovers and as the first waves of customary guilt
mixed with feelings of stupidity began to wash over him ,he
remembered with a shock that he hadn't been drinking last
night.

He shuddered as the nightmare that was the last few days came
slowly back to him,the shudders themselves causing even more
pain to his tormented body.Using his fingers he forced first one
eye ,then the other ,blinking painfully as he tried to focus in the
darkness until a dizzy nausea overcame him and he lapsed
into unconsciousness.

When he stirred again he noticed a chink of light but in his
disoriented state he couldn't fathom from whence it came,
floor or ceiling,wall or door.Remembering that he had a prev-
ious appointment he tried to struggle up but found himself to
be wrapped tightly in some kind of sheet.With every strain of
endevour to disengage himself from the sheet,his body re-
belled until he thought he might faint from the pain but he
made one last frantic effort and finally succeeded but in
doing so fell painfully to the ground,his legs still tangled in
the acursed sheet.Breathing heavily,he gingerly freed his legs
and crawled towards the shaft of light.

He felt his strength returning as he discovered what appeared
to be a large bolder blocking the exit to the cave he found him-
self in.And he remembered he was to meet his friends outside
this cave.Counting slowly from 1 to x he took a deep breath,
rolled the bolder aside and jumped outside,

"Ta da.",said Jesus with his arms outsretched theatrically.

The silence that greeted him was equalled only by the lack
of an audience.

"I must be too early," thought Jesus as he slunk back inside,
rolling the bolder closed behind him.He waited until the beam
of light got stronger and changed direction,what seemed like
forever but was probably an hour before readying himself
once more.

"The cunts'll surely be here by now." he thought,rolled back
the rock, jumped outside and

"Ta daaaaaaaaaaaaa ."

Not a fuckin' sinner."Thats fuckin' lovely,that is," as he poked
a bush,"the first,the one and fuckin' only fuckin' LIVE res-
urrection and the cunts can't be bothered turning up.Well
they needn't think I'm going to do it again for them."

He trudged off into town to find them,muttering all the way,

"Ungrateful shower of cunts."

He went to the hall where they used to meet,pray,smoke and
tell dirty jokes but there was nobody about.Deciding that they
must be drowning their sorrows in the pub he went there next.
The owner,carrying kegs out, saw him approach and said,

"Ah Jesus,its yourself,havn't seen you for a few days."

"I was about my father's business,have you seen Peter and
the lads ? "

"Upstairs in the function-room,been there two days,go on up."

Jesus crept up the stairs,the racket getting more raucous the
closer he got to the door.Suddenly the door opened and Peter
tumbled out ,not even seeing his Lord ,cupped his hands and
roared downstairs,

"More wine Inn-keeper,before the women sober up and stop
dancing."

Horrified Jesus said,

"Peter,my rock,what the fuck is going on "

Trying to focus ,Peter said.

"Who's that," and squinting his eyes ,"Jesus Jesus,its you."

"Jesus Jesus,gettit."He said,collapsing in a fit of giggles.He
staggered to his feet and with tears rolling down his face
hugged Jesus and said,

"Me best friend in the world."He stood back clasped Jesus by
the hand,

"You and me Jesus,You and me,put it there.Jesus,Jesus."
and started laughing once more at his own wit.

"Whats the fuckin' story ?" said Jesus,losing patience and shak-
ing Peter by the sholders.

"Partaaaayyyyyy"

"What fuckin' party ?"

"Judas came in to some money."

The real meaning of Easter.

2006-04-15T10:10:00.000-07:00

Happy Easter

Captain's Log

2006-04-13T14:30:00.000-07:00

The following was found alongside the parchment that
is considered to be a part of the Gospel of St. Judas.

Thursday.

The bleedin' Jews have me heart scalded.What about this and
what are you doing about that ?Now they're on their high horses
about some damned hippy going around preaching love and
saying he's the son of God,as if that was unusual around here. If
I had a piece of silver for every unwashed long-haired layabout
spouting love and other bull-shit I'd have retired back to Rome
years ago.

The Pharisees have lodged a complaint about him causing a
kerfuffle at one of their meetings and now the moneylenders,
two of whom were major contributers to the Mayor's election
fund, are accusing him of being the cause of a 50% drop in bus-
iness.

This Jaysus,or whatever his name is , is generally accompanied
by a large rabble ,but in all fairness they have caused us no
problems so far and have been good for business for the hot-
dog and kebab vendors.They keep pretty much to themselves,
camping out in the open and their singing and clapping goes on
well into the night.There have been reports of several ladies of
ill-repute in the entourage but they havn't solicited any locals
as yet.

I'll have to finish this journal at a later date as some of my sol-
diers have just brought in two men suspected of obscene be-
haviour after being caught kissing in the park at Gethsemanee.

Cousin It

2006-04-11T17:20:00.000-07:00

Rereading that last post reminded me of all the seamen in my
family including fishermen and a ships cook and also cousin It,
a pilot in one of Ireland's minor Ports.Both in and out of his
presence he is never referred to as anything else because none
of us know what to make of him.In living memory he is the only
member of the Barney clan to have never touched a drink or
cigarette,we don't know where he came from,hes the original
white sheep of the family.

It's father was the Port Pilot and It was a crewmember on the
Pilot's Launch which was used to tender the Pilot to and from
the ships and so was well qualified for the post on the death of
his father.

Came the day a British Cargo approached the harbour and on
boarding,cousin It was met by the captain,who,much to the
amusement of his crew,boomed condesendingly,

"Well Paddy,I hope you know where all the rocks are."

"Begod Captain,I don't."

"What !" spluttered the captain.

"But I know where theres none."

Grand trip

2006-04-10T14:02:00.000-07:00

Well what would you do.Parker Dunne came in at lunchtime on
Thursday with free passes on the Jonathan Swift and the keys
to his mate's flat in Liverpool,all buck shee for the weekend.Dr.
Tim and myself volunteered to use the passes so they wouldn't
go to waste and as the sailing was at 4.30 p.m. there wasn't time
to get our own weekend passes,me from Malicia,Tim from his
war-office,as he calls her,but we were sure (at the time) that
they would have given us their blessings.

It had been a few years since my last trip to the Grand National
and although I've never missed it on the telly,there is no sub-
stitute for being there in the flesh.The bodies glistening with
sweat,nostrils flaring,manes swishing this way and that as
their eyes searched out someone to buy their drinks.It was as
if I'd never missed a meeting there as the old question popped
up once more,have these women no fucking mirrors at
home.You'd think it was summer in Marbella we were,such
was the lack of concealing clothes,with more suet and lard than
you'd see in Denny's factory.The bouncer in the night-club told
me they had to change the lighting because the florescent
showing up the dentures on grab-a granny nights was putting
off customers.

We never did find out what it was exactly that Parker did or
was supposed to be doing on the ship but his white shirt with
the little bit of braid never got dirty and we knew he was on duty
because he only drank vodka to our pints the whole way over. I
had figured out that he had some stroke going with the bar-men
and the people in the not-so-dutyfree shop with the exchange
rate because he changed our Euros for Sterling one-for-one
instead of us only getting 66 pence each per Euro.

It so happened that some management from Irish Ferries were
on our trip and asked Parker to explain why the ratio of Sterling
to Euro was only 3% on the Dublin Ferries while on the Cork-
Swansea route the ratio was 16%.Without batting an eyelid
Parker told the accountant

"Transfer me down to the Cork Ferry and I'll sort them out for you."

'cause their lips are moving.

2006-04-06T12:33:00.000-07:00

Isn't it gas looking at the hurt little faces of liars when nobody
believes a word they say anymore. They have become so used
to Gobshites taking everything they say as gospel that they are
shocked to the core on being exposed for the lying cunts that
they are,like little boys caught wanking by their mothers.The
fixed grins on these two yesterday as they tried to present a

united front to the British people yesterday was nothing short
of laughable.That is precisely what we should do,laugh in their
faces whever they open their sleeveen mouths.

Monkey-face Bush can't understand why we're not quaking in
our boots at the idea of Iran possibly trying to cobble together
a couple of Nuky Fireworks,so what.The last time I looked
there had never been any Israeli readers on this blog so my
stats. will survive intact if Iran does manage to level the
playing -field a little.

Then we have the murdering cunts over here who are deeply
hurt that nobody believes them when they deny all knowledge
of the execution of a former member who admitted having been
a British spy for over 20 years.Oh no it wasn't us,as if the idea
never entered their evil,soon-to-be-respectable-politician heads.

How do we know when politicians are lying ? See above.

He'll never,ever go home again.

2006-04-05T12:25:00.000-07:00

I never had much time for Gene Pitney,he was too much of a
girly-type singer for my taste.But to end up dead in Cardiff,
Fuck me,I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy.

later that day in the Country.

2006-04-04T22:50:00.000-07:00

So Larry and meself were having a right oul' chinwag,leaning on
a gate in a mild and inoffensive manner when a Traveller's van
whizzes by,at about 19 m.p.h.They drive this slowly so they can
case houses on both sides of the road,the thieving cunts.

"You'd better keep the Shotgun handy tonight." I said to Larry.

"Sure I've not got one since the cuntsa guards took it off me."

"How the fuck come."

It turns out that Larry heard some voices out the back last
Autumn and when he went outside to investigate he saw two
Travellers looking over his fence.When he challenged them and
asked what they were doing,they told him to mind his own fuck-
ing business.

"I'll show you whats my business.",said Larry and went to get
his shotgun.When he came out again one of the knackers had
disappeared and the other had retreated about 50 yards and
was standing underneath a Chestnut tree shouting abuse and
making gestures at Larry.

Without hesitation Larry loosed off both barrels,which had
contained Eley's finest no.4 s, into the tree above the knacker.
Which is where the second knacker had taken refuge and now
came tumbling down through the branches to land in a heap
at the feet of the other.The other looked at his friend,looked
at Larry and ran off screaming

"He's kilt Mikey,he's kilt Mikey."

Mikey,getting over the shock took to running as well,passing
out his companion before they reached the next ditch.

That night the local Gardai came and confiscated Larry's gun.

"I suppose I should have minded my own fucking business." said Larry.

A.B.the Philanthropist

2006-04-02T22:45:00.000-07:00

Or just nosey do-gooder busybody ?

Fuck me,that Garda shining his torch in my face the other night
must have effected me more than I thought because while you
lot were out guzzling drink,carousing,enjoying yourselves or
getting over the effects of a night out at the Smuggies,I've been
trying to make the world a better place.

Don't just sit there with your mouths open,get over here and see if I can
do anything for you,or if you can help some other poor sod.

New Leaves.

2006-03-31T11:03:00.000-08:00

I was fuckin' mouldy last night,in the screaming horrors.I had so
much drink aboard that every time I leant forward some of it
spilled out.No particular reason,availability and a willing body
and mind is all it took.But thats it, game over,end of.I have seen
the light both literally and figuratively,a blinding flash.

It was about 9.30,I suppose as I staggered outside to get a taxi
home when I stumbled and fell across the footpath.It was like a
scene in one of those shows where people send in tapes of som-
one making a bollix of themselves,where the person is falling
forward for ages before collapsing in a heap.It was when I tried
to get up and rolled over on my back,struggling like a tortoise,
that the blinding flash hit me and my whole life flashed before
me.A lifetime of evil thoughts and deeds unfolded before my
eyes as if it was a David Lean epic and I resolved there and
then to change my life.

Since this blog is a fairly close depiction of my life,it too will
show all the changes manifest in me.Next week I propose to
reveal my real identity and begin a more family oriented type
of diary/blog.I will discuss community affairs and publish a
recipe each day,starting on Monday with my recipe for whole
stuffed dog.I will also be keeping you informed about my
fights against alcohol and cigarettes and in general about my
efforts to be a better person.

So lets do it together,one day at a time.

Update ;Bollocks , I didn't mean to publish that till tomorrow.

A day in the Country.

2006-03-30T12:31:00.000-08:00

I was walking the land at Aisling when I met Larry,a neighbour-
ing farmer.Over the weekend I had driven down to my estate
in Wicklow to collect some rent and inform the tenants of the
forthcoming increases.Over the years I have tried to keep all
interaction with the peasants to a business level and instead
get all the gossip in the local or directly from Larry.He tells me
whos drinking too much,who is riding who and who has sold
well or badly at Ashford (Mart).

When I asked him how his own Heifers went the previous week
he answered in his usual way of telling me without telling me
anything,

"I didn't get what I wanted,but I got more than I expected."

"Thats great,Good Sales?"

"Not great."Larry would tell you the secret of Fatima but ask
him about his own business and he shuts up like a duck's arse
in a near-frozen pond.It is, of course,the middle of the Lambing
season in that neck of the woods and Larry,along with the rest
of them was up to his tits in Lambs,sickly and healthy,yews
the same,afterbirths and casualties.

As you all know sheep are the most stupid creatures in all
evolution,they're the blondes of the animal Kingdom.They go
out of their way to make life difficult for themselves and the
unfortunate cunt looking after them.They'll wait for the cold-
est,wettest,windiest night before dropping their lamb,twins
or triplets.They will drop one lamb in a corner of the field
before wandering over to another corner to drop her twin,
leaving the first to the elements and to the mercy of grey
crows and foxes.The dozy cunts are able to look after single
lambs themselves but twins and triplets generally have to
be brought inside and kept under infra-red lighting for a few
days till they strenghten up.

The yews themselves often find themselves in difficulty as
well and it is not uncommon for them to displace their womb
during Lambing.Farmers usually carry twine and a darning-
needle to sew up her gee (without anaesthetic) and I have
also seen them using those big pins that you use in Kilts, to
keep everything in.All in all its a busy time for farmers but
fuck them,its about the only time the lazy cunts do any work.
Sheep and farmers deserve each other.So,I was asking Larry
about his lambs,farmers ,in spite of the extra work involved
are only interested in twins and triplets because of the extra
profit at sales time.

"Many triplets ?"

"Not too many."

"Lose many ?"

"Let me tell you something about lambs," he said balefully,

"If you kept the feckin' lambs under the bed,they'd drown
in the piss-pot."

I predict a Riot

2006-03-29T10:53:00.000-08:00

You really have to hand it to the oul' Froggies when it comes to
letting their feelings be known.Known the world over for their
sophistication and laid-back attidude but all this goes out the
window if you piss them off.

In this case they disprove the theory that a million people can't
be wrong as they so plainly are.They don't equate high unem-
ployment with the fact that its so hard to sack the cunts over
there.I have employed people in my time (some of them are
doing reasonably well again since the therapy) and I swear it
would have been easier to train monkeys,sack them ?,it took a
supreme effort not to strangle them.

But thats beside the point,if they don't like something they're
not behind the door in letting you know.Mess them around
and before you have a drag on a Gitane all you Ports are
blockaded and your Highways choked-up.Can you see them
putting up with unfortunate people on trolleys in A&E dep-
artments of hospitals for three days ?I see our fat cunt over
here is clapping http://archives.tcm.ie/breakingnews/2004/10/20/story172031.asp
her fanny-flaps by promising that nobody should have to
remain on a trolley for more than 24 hours, isn't she just
wonderful,a fuckin' saint,Joan of Arkle.

Where was I ?,oh yes the French,imagine the fun if they ever
try to introduce a smoking ban.

Super Mario

2006-03-26T15:55:00.000-08:00

Jesus,its quiet here today and there seems to be nobody to play
with,all off doing mother's day stuff,I suppose.Thats all right as
I often use Sundays to try and learn something new about the
poxy oul' computer.

I saw one of his films yesterday,what a set of pipes he had.
he was from before your time,and mine too,but me oul'
fella,no mean Tenor himself,had a great gra for oul' Mario and
we were all dragged up listening to him.Anyway,its my blog and
I'll post what I want.

I suppose if they ever made a film about me,Mario Lanza,Buddy

Holly,Elvis and Cream would figure greatly on the soundtrack.

See,I'm not always cranky,back in character tomorrow.

Shake hands? Here,shake this.

2006-03-23T22:33:00.000-08:00

I stopped going to mass before they brought in that horrible
part where you have to shake hands with the people around
you.On the rare occasions that I've been since I've been
looking around at the people whose hands I was going to have
to shake,watching them coughing and hocking and picking
their noses so that I'd have worked myself into a temper well
before the dreaded announcement;

Let us offer each other a sign of peace and forgiveness

and the whole congregation goes into a frenzy of hand-shaking
like New Years Eve but without the drink.All those filthy and
unhygenic hands,and thats apart from the fact that there are
very few people I wish peace upon,and even fewer that I wish
to forgive.

So anyway I had to go to a neighbour's funeral the other day,I
didn't have to,but you know what I mean.Besides I had wanted
to have a gawk at his son whom I hadn't for about 20 years
and to see if he had got any fatter,he had.He himself had been
a rotten oul' cunt all his life and I was delighted he was dead,
although I was also happy he was alive as the oul' bollocks had
spent the last ten years in a nursing home,eating them out of
house and home and selfishly refusing to die.If theres a better
place,I hope he never gets there.And the fuckin' Eulogy he
got,I was nearly going to jemmy the coffin open to see if it was
the same person I knew that they were talking about.

By the time we were due to shake hands at the funeral mass
I had worked myself into a foul mood and the only person I
shook hands with was Malicia and stared malevolently at all
others as they made shapes to shake, ugly oul' cunts.Are
Catholics the ugliest group of people in the Universe ? All
old, bent and miserable,every fuckin' one.In my younger days
there used to be a few half-decent looking wans at Mass that
you'd strain your neck gawking at but there was none at this
one.

Still the pusses on the oul' wans I wouldn't shake hands with
was something to behold and I might start going again just
to relive that pleasure.

Shower of Cunts.

2006-03-22T23:03:00.000-08:00

Enough of this poxy navel-gazing.

Just who the fuck do they think they are ?Fuck off you shower
of utter cunts and pay for your own club,association,party or
whatever the fuck you want to call it.If I or anyone else wish
to form a club for the benefit of its members,said members
are expected,and more than willing to pay for it.What people
don't do is to bribe rich businessmen for funding or expect
other tax-payers to pay for it.What do they do with all this
money ?Apart from lining their own pockets they squander
it in a vain attempt to convince us of the brilliance of their
ideas and how much better they are than the other shower
(of cunts).

Well heres the news fuckface,there is no difference.there is
not an original thought or idea between the whole stinking
lot of you.You want to manage the country ?You couldn't
manage a good shite.If a solution to the problems in Health,
Education or the Middle East crawled under your desk and
performed Fellatio/cunnilingus on you ,you wouldn't recog-
nise it,you fucking Baboons.As a matter of fact Baboons would
be preferable,more honest,hardworking and cheaper,not to
mention,easier to train.

Then you have the sheer fucking gall to expect us to pay
for those shiny leaflets that nobody reads,the ones that
bear testimony to your lies and broken promises.Or those
stupid posters that litter the streets for months after an
election?,yes the ones with your ugly bovine heads on them.
Tell me,when was the last time one single person had
their mind changed by some arsehole on a poster? You don't
need to go to Blackpool or Brighton for your piss-ups,all you
are doing is preaching to the converted,nobody else is
interested in your lies/self-promotion/propaganda.

What you should get off the taxpayer is what you're entit-
led to and what you deserve,which is fuck-all.there should
be a limit of 500 pound put on every canditate's expendit-
ure so to eliminate any need for funding.Don't worry,in the
unlikely event that you come up with something remotely
interesting,new or clever to say,we will hear about it.The
Sun WILL print it,Jeremy Paxman or Sky News WILL tell
us,for fucks sake the Angels will sing it once they get over
the shock.

In the meantime get your precious arses off your high
horses and join the fucking real world.

Barbie Moment

2006-03-21T20:45:00.000-08:00

I had a "Barbie"moment or moments last week when the
thought of giving up blogging seemed attractive.None of us,
except Kim perhaps ,will ever know why the great El Barbudo
decided to call it a day and I will miss his incandescent rages
and semi-pornographic meanderings.In my case I had just
become a little bored with it and it was starting to become
a chore,something to have to do.Now the surest way to stop
me from doing something is to try to force me to do it,so you
can see where my head was at.

There was also the added distraction of Cheltenham being on
and while I wasn't there phsyically,I was there in mind and
spirit and serious racing is very time-consuming.What really
effected my though and I honestly don't know why ,was the
photo's somebody posted from the Irish Blog awards.

I had been reading Twenty's Blog about him winning (fair play
to the little bollix,he thoroughly deserved them) all before him
and he mentioned some photos that were up somewhere,I can't
be arsed to look them up now,but I did then.What struck me
was how ordinary everyone looked,I don't know what I expect-
ed them to look like,but whatever it was,they weren't it.In
other words they didn't look like me,do they look like you ?
I have been accused of many things in my life but being or
looking ordinary is not one of them but those clowns are
taking ordinariness to a new level.Until a little while ago I
wasn't even aware of an Irish blogging scene,the only two I
follow are Twenty and the divinely -ankled Fatmammycat,
feeling much more at home here among the Scots,Brits and a
few Americans whose wrists aren't dragging along the ground.
Which is fine since I have very few Irish readers either so
fuck 'em,but as I say,those photos phased me.

So anyway I decided to cut back a little,or maybe to omit all
comments as this is very time-consuming also,and since I
wasn't going to allow comments,I reasoned that I would
forfeit my right to comment elsewhere,so more time saved.
Having mitched away from the blogosphere for a week,I
posted what was to be one of my last few utterings and
relaxed,having made the decision turned to read one of my
favourites,yes,Barbie,the bearded wonder.

My heart sank a little more as I read each sentence of his
farewell blog,almost misty-eyed by the end,as I realized how
much I'll miss the cunt.Then I thought how much I'd miss
all you cunts out there so fuck yis,yis are stuck with me for a
little while yet.

Enough to make your eyes Pop.

2006-03-19T10:45:00.000-08:00

So,the six of us sat around expectantly,waiting for the start like
kids waiting for Christmas.None of us knew what the week
would bring but we were hoping for the best,prepared for the
worst but all in all,it should be a piece of piss.It was one of those
rare occasions where I had put myself completely in the hands
of others,professionals who had all the information they needed
at their fingertips and who had an excellent track- record at
this type of thing.

We each took our first shot of the day and looked at each other
as if we were kids at our first Disco.I would not say that I am
unaquainted with introducing chemicals to my carcass but
L.S.D. and Magic Mushrooms soaked in Poteen would not have
produced the effects that I now witnessed as the first two lads
collapsed to the ground pulling at their clothes while complain-
ing about the unbearable heat,followed quickly by two more
who started wailing like Banshees.

The second poor cunt was pulling lumps of his beard off as his
head got bigger and bigger and turned the colour of ripe black-
currants before both his eyes exploded and covered the room
in a disgusting gunge as he mercifully fell silent.Through
their own agony,the other three were oblivious to this as they
also turned into human blackcurrants,ready for harvesting.
I backed away from the tormented trio in expectation of more
exploding heads and bumped into a wide-eyed and horrified
male-nurse who I helped into the toilets,by the hair.

He'd already wet himself but his bowels opened when I banged
his head off the wall as his feet dangled a foot off the ground.

"What the fuck did you give us ?" but I didn't loosen my grip
on his windpipe,again

"What the fuck was it ?",this time I took one hand off his
scrawny neck and proceeded to gouge his eye while still
dangling him up to my height.

"The Government" he rasped

"What Government, you fuck?"

"They made us do it"

"Do, do fuckin' what."

"They made us give you anti-blogging serums." I gouged
more,ready to pop his eye out,

"But I think you got a placebo."

2006-03-15T15:48:00.000-08:00

Arkle

Closed for Cheltenham

Site available to rent

apply in comments.

The Parade that died of Shame.

2006-03-12T19:51:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time the citizens of this country used to commem-
orate those who died in the 1916 Rising by holding a parade in
Dublin on Easter Sunday.This was all harmless enough as it gave
Families something to do to celebrate the ending of the Lenten
fast and a chance to gawk at a few politicians who in those days
were considered to be respectable,honest and pillars of the
community.It also gave politicians an excuse to strut around and
preen themselves before the masses.

The last big parade was held in 1966 to mark the 50th anniv-
ersary of the Rising,there was even a new silver 10 shilling piece
minted to mark the occasion.

That was all before the I.R.A. started their murderous campaign
and hi-jacked the parade along with our language and flag.The
Government ceased sponsering the activities at Easter and the
parade was no more.People became too embarassed to go to
Ballad sessions as some of the songs would have Republican ideals
in the lyrics.Where before it was all part of a good night out to
have a sing-song regaling the sanguine sacrifices of a few mis-
guided patriots,now it became distasteful.

People honestly tried to speak the cupla fochail of the Irish lan-
guage in the brave new Ireland of the 60s until the slaughter,
then only the pretentious and the rabid Republicans wanted to
use it.

Despite the fact that the Rising was a failure,that the partici-
pants were jeered by Dubliners on their capture,it still has a
pivotal place in the Irish disposition and always will.

Now that the leaders of the baby-killers have become Armani
wearing would-be Statesmen and because our Government
wish to take our minds off their crookedness and ineptidude,
we are going to witness a sprint along O'Connell street to the
G.P.O. by politicians from official Ireland and Sinn Fein in
an unseemly race to see who represents Republicanism the
most (or should that be the worst) in this year's renewal.

My part in his downfall.

2006-03-10T11:45:00.000-08:00

In those days the talk always turned to the war and THEIR
part in it.Strangely enough,I never came across any ordinary
seamen or soldiers,every one of themseemed to have been
Sergeants or Corporals,at the very least.I.E.

My platoon was surrounded on all sides by the Jerries,the food
was gone,there was no water and we'd no ammo for the .303s
or the Bren-guns, and I was the worse off because I had a Bren-
gun and a .303. ???

Mind you my Doubting-Thomas instinct got me into trouble
on one occasion when I burst out laughing on being told by
my companion that he had been a stoker on a Submarine,only
to find out that there was such a position.

The funniest story was that during the war,most of the
Trawlers were commandeered by the navy as mine-sweepers
with their Skippers given the rank of Liutenant and various
positions allocated to deck-hands.On one occasion a Deck-hand
was doing sentry duty on Hull docks on a cold foggy night.A
Royal Navy officer was returning to his ship and said to his
fellow-officer,

"Lets test this sentry.",and when he made a scuffling sound
a voice called out of the fog,

"Halt,who goes there,friend or foe ?"

"Foe "

"If you're goin' to muck about like that,I'm goin' home."

2006-03-09T11:54:00.000-08:00

In ten minutes I'm going to have sex with a Man.

Try as I might,I could not get my head around this,
there was no other way to look at it.
To explain the position I found myself in we have to travel
back two months to the start of my trip,to the begining of my
career as a deep-sea fisherman.

The money for a deck-hand was better on the factory-ships
than on the normal trawlers,so after the scandal,I signed up
for a three month trip to fish off Iceland on the m.f.v.Vaguely
Noble.Fuck me,that was some rude awakening for a young
Paddy who thought he'd seen it all. The crew,mostly York-
shiremen were amiable enough and I found their dry sense of
humour to be similar to that of Dubliners.My main problems
were lack of alcohol which was completely forbidden aboard
the ship (never say boat,it pisses them off) and lack of sex
(with another person).

After a month at sea it got to me so bad that I went to see
the master and commander of all our destinies,the most
powerful person in our universe,our Skipper.

"Skipper,you'll have to air-lift me off,I'm going bananas here."

"Whats the problem,Paddy?"

"I'm gummin' for a ride,is the problem."

"Have you tried wanki...?"

"Of course I've tried wanking.",I snapped

"And you've had the mags and seen the films ?", a trawler
in those days was awash with porno books and films.

"Not worth a fuck,you have to send me back."

"Theres one other thing,I can fix you up with Wang,the
Chinese cook."

"You must be fuckin' joking."

"No joke" he said "and no one need know a thing about
it but you,me and Wang."

"Bollocks to that,I'm not in to that kind of thing."

"Its up to you,but nobody would know a thing.Anyway,the
weathers turning so a chopper can't get near us for at least
a week."

I suffered on for another week,feeling more light-headed
and becoming more bad-tempered every day.Abstinance
must have been bred into the others as they seemed happy
enough with their well-thumbed magsand watching the
"Super 8s" in the galley,but it had the opposite effect on
me and again I went to the Skipper.

"You've got to get me off,Skipper,me cock's eating the leg
off me and I'm getting dizzy spells."

"In case you hadn't fucking noticed,theres a fuckin' hurricane
out there and theres no chance of getting you away."

"I swear to fuck I'll jump over the wall and pay myself
away.(Trawler-speak for drowning yourself)

"No need to talk like that Paddy,have you thought about
Wang ?"

"I told you,I'm not into that kind of thing."

"No one need ever know,I tell you what,give it a try and if
you still need to go,I'll drop you into Reykjavik myself."

"I'm not into that kind of thing,but I'll think about it."

Which is where my story began and having made the
decision went up to see the Skipper again.

"And no one will ever know ?"

"Not a sinner,just you ,me,Wang and the other three."

"What other three ?"

"The three that'll be holding Wang,hes not into that kind
of thing either."

All I'm saying is......

2006-03-08T11:45:00.000-08:00

Today is International Women's day.

International Women's Day is the universal day that connects all womenaround the world and inspires them to achieve their full potential. IWD 2006 launches another year of working progressively for women's equality worldwide. It is an important day around the world because the collective power of women is witnessed by milions, and the brave achievements of women past, present and future are respectfully honoured. International Women's Day 2006 will be celebrated globally on Wednesday 8 March. Join the action !!The IWD global register of events is provided for all women's organisationsby Aurora with the support of HSBC the world's local bank

It is also National Stop Smoking day.

http://www.nosmokingday.org.uk/

Now if only............................

Two abreast me bollix !

2006-03-06T02:30:00.000-08:00

Now that the Ice-age is over for another year we must gird
ourselves for the first signs of that most objectionable of
creatures,the road cyclist.
These boney-arsed cunts will be out clogging up the high-ways
and by-ways before you have a chance to get a gulp of Spring
air,the selfish Lycra-clad bastards.
What road-tax do these cunts pay ?None,the sanctimonious
fuckers,yet they cycle around,15 abreast,as if they owned
the fuckin' roads.
If you knock one of the cunts down you're the worst in the
world,you can't even beep at them or they glare at you
enough to give you cancer.If you make obscene gestures at
them and give them the swivel-finger,as sure as fuck there'll
be a hold-up ahead and a swarm of the cunts'll get you.You
wouldn't mind taking a few of them on but they're as fit as
fuck,even the decrepit-looking oul' bastards are.

I reckon you should get bonus points on your licence for
wingin' the cunts,that'd thin them out.

Diver's Tongues

2006-03-05T15:56:00.000-08:00

Fuck me,Barney is gone multi-lingual.

Bloody little Cur.

2006-03-03T11:13:00.000-08:00

Not that I give two fucks what the lady in question was up to
or not up to,but I was delighted to see the phrase being used.
http://www.thesun.co.uk/article/0,,2-2006100346,,00.html
Lord knows there are enough Brazen Hussies about these days
but nobody appears to describe them as such.It is such a
wonderful description, it roles off the tongue so delightfully
and yet leaves no room for error in its intended use.

Older readers hear will have often heard the term used,but
even the younger ones among you,if you close your eyes and
hiss it, can picture the delighted venom with which it might
have been used by gossiping neighbours in a small village.
For the recipient there would be no way back from being
branded a Brazen Hussy,she would stay one for ever more.

Other terms used by my parents but not heard so much these
days (except by me sometimes) and require little explaination;

Dirty oul' melt,

Bloody little Cur, or worse ,Curan (Curawn = young Cur)

Go-be-the-wall,

and the GALL of yer wan.

All relatively harmless but delivered with the right amount
of venom there was no need for additives like fucks and
cunts to get their message across.

Quick! Anyone got a Pen ?

2006-03-02T13:12:00.000-08:00

Having gotten that last post off my chest I think we know each
other a bit better and now I feel its time our relationship moved
on to a new level.I'm going to let the defences down a little more
and tell you about a life-long secret ambition of mine,I have
been fascinated by the idea and determined to do one ever since
I heard of it.

Heres the thing,if and when we ever meet,never faint or collapse
in any way in my company or Ill cut a hole in your Windpipe
before anyone else has a chance to loosen your collar.You see I
always carry my razor-sharp knife everywhere for the sole
purpose of carrying out a Tracheotomy,not that I'm remotely
interested in saving a stranger's life or anything like that,I just
want to phsyically do it.

Two years ago I nearly got jail over it when a last minute
change of mind led me to wear a jacket I had previously
packed when travelling to Manchester.As soon as I walked
through security I remembered what was in my pocket.All
my bullshittin' came to no avail and now some security-cunt
at Dublin airport has my beautiful Lock-knife.However it has
since been replaced,at great expence,by a better one with
which you could actually shave yourself.

For the very reason that I carry my Knife,I never intention-
ally carry a pen,although my pockets always seem to have
at least two of those 1/2 pens you get in the Bookies.I
hate taking those fuckin' pens as I consider it bad luck to
steal them (not that I get much good luck if I don't) from
the shop.Funny thing about those 1/2 pens,even people
who have never darkened the door of a Bookie's have a
drawer-ful of the little bastards.Same as fish-boxes,is there
a garden in the world that hasn't got at least one of those
plastic fish-boxes in it ?

So anyway,having cut the hole in your victim's (?) Trachea,
you have to plead anxiously to the fascinated on-lookers,

"For the love of God,has anyone got a pen ?" and

"For fuck sake,move back and let the man get some air."

Then grabbing the pen,break the top off it and plunge it
with a flourish into the gurgling Windpipe.Fuckin' deadly,
and even if the cunt dies there are enough witnesses to
say that you performed heroics trying to save him.How
were you to know the cunt was Epileptic?

The Ultimate Sulk ?

2006-02-27T23:00:00.000-08:00

The very concept of suicide that is so contemptable,abhorrent and
incomprehensible to friends,family and casual observers can also
describe the circumstance in which the suicidal finds himself.We
all know that suicide is a selfish and cowardly act,made all the
more despicable because of the effect it has on the bereaved,but
then we are not suicidal.Before you judge/condemn a suicide you
should be eternally grateful that you will never have to experience
the lung-bursting,soul-destroying pressure of drowning in a sea
of utter despair,of knowing that there is absolutely nothing you
can do to alleviate your problems except for that one final sol-
ution.Can you imagine what it is like to know,with complete
certainty that your family will be far better off without you ?

For those left behind there is only sadness,anger and guilt in
every proportion.Sadness for the loss of a loved one,anger that
he fucked off and left them behind with a mountain of shit and
guilt that he did not turn to them for help.But what suicide is
going to burden a loved one with problems so horrific and
insurmountable that he himself cannot handle ?Would you ex-
pect a terminal-cancer sufferer to want to share it with his wife
or children ?Would you ? Of course not,you would try to spare
them at all costs.The only possible solution is staring you in
the face,you must do it and not out of self-pity or just to show
them,but to spare them and protect them from the horrors,
lest they experience a fraction of what its like.

People have often remarked that such and such who has just
committed suicide must have gone through Hell in those last
few days but the opposite is true.The actual deed only takes
a few seconds,its the weeks and months leading up to the
decision to do it that is the Hell.Once the decision to go has
been made there an immediate feeling of release,all pressure
off.You are elated to know that soon your troubles will be
over,they can't get you anymore and a calmness and serenity
take the place of all the shit that went before.

Then you just do it.

Update 28/2/06 11.50 A.M.

I want to apologise for getting something off my chest that
has been there for many years while selfishly not allowing
others to comment even though they have a need to do so.

Again I stress that I do not advocate suicide but was trying
to point out that a suicide cannot see his selfishness,is blind
to reason and genuinely believes the world would be better
off without him.

Great Minds.............

2006-02-26T13:29:00.000-08:00

http://uk.news.yahoo.com/24022006/80-132/colombian-sentenced-ride-bottom-slap.html You know you've been married too long when something
like this happens.I had forgotten all about the incident until I read
about the unfortunate Colombian.I have never,before or since,
pawed,stroked or slapped a strangers arse but on this warm
Summer afternoon myself and the mot were driving through some
heavy traffic.The cars were moving yery slowlywhen I noticed,
about three car-lengths in front,standing on a narrow traffic-island,
a really attractive ,shapely young woman wearing a micro-skirt.I
can't say what I was going to actually do but as I rolled down the
window,Malicia hissed;

"Don't even think about it."

She knew what I was thinking about even before I thought it.

Q.E.D.

2006-02-23T19:39:00.000-08:00

Now I could never be accused of overburdening myself with

the troubles of others,as a matter of fact,were my surname to

be the same as a certain Jewish Psychoanalysist,my first name

would be Schaden,as I am more than likely to take an unseemly

pleasure out of said misfortunes.However,the present spot of

bother that we in the West are experiencing with our Muslim

brethren can so easily be sorted that I feel the necessity to

forward the solution,especially as there could be a drink in

it for me.

If the Muslims still want the Cartoonist's heads,we'll give them

heads,after all,we all look the same to them,and very few

people know what they look like anyway.All it takes is for

the Editor of that Danish Newspaper to announce that his

Cartoonists have gone missing,and after a few days, some

likely character (heres where I come in) gets in touch with

the head Buck-cat Muslim and offers him the required

number of heads,simple.It needn't even cost the Govern-

ments any money as I would try to cover my expences

with the million Dollars bounty.I'm sure Footsie could

provide me with a few heads,He'll have one shortly if the

Judge has anything to do with it.

The only drawback I can find is that I may have to shed

my anonymity when I collect my Nobel Peace prize.

Q.E.D.

Consolation

2006-02-23T10:44:00.000-08:00

After churning many a stomach with the picture of the ugly
little bollix on my last posting,I hereby counterbalance it
with a gratuitous picture of Salman Rushdie's mot,the ex-
model Padma Lakshmi.

When asked why she married the multi-millionaire author,
Miss Padma replied;..........

What happens on tour.......

2006-02-21T12:44:00.000-08:00

A (Small) number of commenters I respect suggested that I
left my last post a little up in the air but my reasons for doing
so were twofold.Firstly the prime law of Piss-Artistry states
unequivocally that what happens on tour,stays on tour.This
is to protect the innocent and also to insure that the Spouses/
partners never find out what we've been up to.Secondly,and
more importantly,there is the money,in the shape of a book
deal.

Halfway through Ahmed's (that is his first name and the
the one he prefers his friends call him ) fine single Malt, It
occurred to us,as it did to my astute blogging friends, that
a meeting of our two great cultures should not go un-
recorded.It was just the small things about each other that
fascinated us,e.g.,who would have guessed that Ahmed would
know all the words (and actions ) of "Fields of Athenry ",
while he was mesmerised when I told him that following a
bowel-movement,I always finished wiping myself with pink
Johnson's Baby Lotion( we covered a lot of topics during
the course of our six-hour bender).

Despite Ahmet's urgings,I ruled out a Joint-authorship deal
as I figured(although I didn't tell him this) there was no
point in having a baying mob of mad Mullahs after both
of us,besides,he wanted to do an arty-farty Salmanesque
type novel while I favoured publishing a more humourous
account of the meeting.What most people don't realise is
that the great author is just a glorified blogger who,having
received 21 comments for a particular post,expects at least
that number for every subsequent post,similarly,having
won the booker prize,constantly craves another,never
again to be satisfied by selling 100,000 copies and receiving
great critical reviews.I,on the other hand,simply wanted to
sell a rake of bukes and end up with a spectacular film deal.

I'm sure you will understand my reticence regarding the
above as the subject is still under discussion by both our
agents but if talks flounder,as seems likely at the moment,
you can expect further disclosures here,exclusively.

Muslims are just a shower of Chancers.

2006-02-19T10:55:00.000-08:00

Well the first thing you'd have to do would be to find out what
their day-jobs were,I mean people who can't draw and have a
sense of humour any Muslim would be proud of (None),cannot
possibly be full-time cartoonists.Then,having tracked them
down and despatched them by whatever means your mood
took you,having hacked their heads off,wrapped each head
individually in cling-film and plastic and deposited them in
your freezer,then what ?There you are with five heads in your
freezer along with all the other stuff that shouldn't be there,
you could get into real trouble if they caught you with all
that Venison,not to mention that Slaney Salmon you've no
business having.Who do you see about collecting the Bounty?

You can't just go knocking on the door of the Pakistani
Embassy and ask to see the..... .Who would you ask for ?

"May I help you? "

"I want to see yer man."

"What man ?"

"You know yourself,yer MAN.",you winking theatrically.

"What man are you talking about,is there something wrong
with your eye ? "

"Stick him up your arse,ya little bollix."

Clint Eastwood never had that problem when he brought in
a shit-load of bodies for the reward.There he'd arrive in
some shit-hole of a town,all the inhabitant's without a pot
to piss in between them,and the Sheriff peels Thousands
of dollars off a roll of notes he keeps just for that purpose.

The Muslims are just a shower of Chancers because they
think nobody will kill the "Cartoonists" and even if they
did their money would be safe due to the difficulty in
collecting it.Anyone can offer any amount of money if you
know you will never have to pay out,its high time some-
body called their bluff.

I had the very same problem that time I had Salman Rushdie
cornered a few years ago.I had been stalking the sleepy-eyed
little cunt for weeks and finally caught up with him in Hessle,
a small town just outside Hull.His body-guards were sleeping,
with the aid of a pair of Roofies in their coffee and I had him
to myself,deciding whether to use my knife or bare hands.He
deserved to die just for being an ugly little bastard and for
the torment he caused me when I read a chapter of his poxy
oul' book,but this was purely for the money.For a million
pounds I'd bite his fuckin' head off his shoulders and walk to
Iran,carrying his dripping features in a Tesco bag.

In all fairness to him he showed more composure than I would
have,under the same circumstances,but I did notice that his
eyes were more saucer-like than in any of his photographs
I had studied.He said,matter-of -factly and with an air of
resignation,

"You are going to kill me ?" I nodded.

"What do you hope to gain by my death ?"

"A million pounds."

"Ah,I see, a bounty hunter."

"I suppose so,if you put it like that."

"From whom do you propose to collect this money ?"

"The Muslims."

"Which Muslims ?"

"Any fuckin' Muslim,they all hate you.",but he had sowed the
first seeds of doubt in my mind.

"If you go to the wrong person you're likely to be beheaded
yourself."

"Still,some fucker'll pay money for your head.",and I took
a step towards him.

"I,on the other hand, can guarantee you have a successful
outcome to this,shall we say,adventure."

"How much success are we talking about here ?"

"What would you like to drink while we discuss your success."

Which is how myself and me oul' pal Salman ended up in
the horrors and next day found me with six thousand,
Sterling,in my pocket,along with twenty Kruggerands.

Having it Both Ways

2006-02-17T11:33:00.000-08:00

I'm all for free speech but ....................

YOU can't have it.

YOU don't deserve it.

YOU are wrong.

YOU might waste it.

YOU might say something I don't agree with.

YOU might say things I don't want to hear.

YOU might tell the truth.

Tetchy

2006-02-16T11:50:00.000-08:00

We all thought the oul' Muslims were a bit tetchy last week
after the kerfuffle they kicked up over a few cartoons,too
little to worry about,thats their problem.Now I read that
historian? David Irving is facing ten years in an Austrian
prison for Holocaust Denial.Hes not even denying it ever
happened,just that there has been exaggerations for
political purposes.
Latest News
January 10, 2006
MR Irving remains incarcerated in a Viennese prison pending trial on February 20 for "offences" of a kind unknown in English law or truly democratic societies.
To date, Mr Irving - never idle ever diligent no matter adversity - has hand-written 600 pages of memoirs, "Irving's War". He has received "156 letters from anonymous Austrians and Germans who are thinking what they are denied the freedom of speech to say". What kind of truth is so weak that it must imprison reasoning skeptics who dare to question it?
Professor Deborah Lipstadt the self-described "dragon-slayer" (though she refused to face the dragon/witness stand in 2000 in London's High Court) pleads: "Let him go and let him fade from everyone's radar screens". [BBC News January 4, 2006]
http://www.unison.ie/search/frame_search.php3?span=web&words=David%20Irvine

But ten years for maybe or maybe not exposing a few
fibs,now who's tetchy ?My own belief is..... No we won't go
there today.All I'm saying is there seems to be a
suspiciously high number of survivors still tottering
about who are dragged out every time the subject is
up for discussion.

David's cousin,Miley Irving,is in fierce trouble over here,but
I'll easily squezze a post out him in the future.

Highway to Heaven

2006-02-14T20:43:00.000-08:00

Following a request from the exececutive officers of giant
American corporation,Halliburton,a Synod of Bishops recently
held a forum at the Vatican to discuss the Seven Deadly Sins.
Flushed with success since their manufacture of a gargantuan
needle,the eye of which a Camel could easily pass through,
the executives sought means by which the apparent impediment
of their paths to eternal salvation might be removed.

The Synod was convened and presided over by Bishop John
Paul McNamara of Chicago who scoured the World for
suitable Bishops before announcing the names of the other
fourteen American Theologians. They discussed the Church's
teachings on the Sins,their opposite Virtues and the punishment
for said Sins.

The Roman Catholic church recognises the seven virtues as opposites to the seven sins.

Sin Virtue
Lust (undesired love) Chastity (Purity )

Gluttony (overindulgence) Moderation (self-restraint )

Greed (avarice) Generosity (vigilance )

Sloth (laziness) Zeal (integrity )

Wrath (anger) Meekness (composure )

Envy (jealousy) Charity (giving )

Pride (vanity) Humility (humbleness )

The Punishments
Lust: Smothered in brimstone and fire
Gluttony: Force-fed rats, toads, and snakes
Greed: Boiled in oil
Sloth: Thrown into a snake pit
Wrath: Dismembered alive
Envy: Put in freezing water
Pride: Broken on the wheel
Similar punishments are imagined in Dante's Inferno

Lust (Latin, luxuria) (fornication, perversion) —Obsessive, unlawful, or unnatural sexual desire, such as desiring sex with a person outside marriage or engaging in unnatural sexual appetites, or depraved thought and unwholesome morality. (Dante's criterion was "excessive love of others," thereby detracting from the love due to God). Associated with the cow and the color blue.

The Synod decided that man's nature inclines him towards
Lustful deeds and he cannot therefore be held responsible
for Lustful thoughts or actions.These deeds are also held to
be compatable with love for one's spouse and love for God.

Gluttony (Latin, gula) (waste, overindulgence) —Thoughtlessness and waste of everything, especially food, drink, or intoxicants. Marked by overindulgence, misplaced sensuality, and depriving of others ("excessive love of pleasure" was Dante's rendering). Associated with pigs and the color orange.

The Synod felt that the rule of "I you've got it,flaunt it."
should supercede Church law here as truly successful
men should flaunt their wealth to encourage others to
attain the same,the better to improve their own donations
to Mother Church.

Greed (Latin, avaritia) (covetousness, avarice) —A desire to gain more than one has need or use for, in money or power. Associated with the frog and the color yellow.

Greed is not good,neither is it bad,declared the Bishops who
jointly pleaded the Fifth Amendment here for fear of
incriminating themselves and the Church.

Sloth (Latin, acedia) (laziness, indifference) —Laziness; idleness and wastefulness of time allotted. Laziness is condemned because others must work harder to make up and you are abandoning the will of God. It, like gluttony, is a sin of waste, for it wastes time.

When a person works hard all week he is entitled to
relax in any manner he sees fit,is the stance taken by
the Bishops,be it fishing ,shooting,golf or whatever.The
fact that these relaxations may seem wasteful or idle
to some spouses is beside the point and do not make
them Sinful.

Wrath (Latin, ira) (anger, hatred) —Inappropriate (unrighteous) feelings of hatred, revenge, or even denial, as well as punitive desires outside of justice (Dante's description was "love of justice perverted to revenge and spite")]. Associated with the bear and the color red.

The Bishops felt that Wrath only became a problem if
used for selfish purposes.If,on the other hand,the Wrath-
giver genuinely believed himself to be doing the will of
God,i.e. inflicting retribution on Heathens and other non-
Christians,the Synod would have no problem with this.

Envy (Latin, invidia) (jealousy, malice) —Resentment of material or spiritual possessions of others. (Dante: "Love of one's own good perverted to a desire to deprive other men of theirs"). Associated with the dog, and the color green.

A good dose of Envy was felt to be harmless enough by
the Bishops,even mild doses of Jealousy was all right.If
another Country happened to have,say,more oil than
they could ever use,it would be perfectly acceptable to
say,"Gosh,I wish we had control of that oil."If the side-
effect of some action you took left you in control of
said oil ?Then Envy would not have effected the outcome,
would it ?

Pride (Latin, superbia) (vanity, narcissism) —A desire to be important or attractive to others or excessive love of self (holding self out of proper position toward God or fellow man; Dante's definition was "love of self perverted to hatred and contempt for one's neighbor"). In Jacob Bidermann's mediaeval miracle play Cenodoxus, superbia is the deadliest of all the sins, and leads directly to the damnation of the famed Doctor of Paris, Cenodoxus. Associated with the horse, and the color violet.

This, being the worst of the seven Sins,presented the Synod
with the greatest problem.In the end they reasoned that as
they themselves felt joyous pride at their position in the
one true Religion and knowing without any doubt
whatsoever that the God they worshipped was the One
TRUE God,they could not in all honesty,condemn others
to eternal damnation for being proud of running the
biggest Corporation in the World.It is also no longer a sin to
be proud of being the leader of or of being a Congressman in
what you know to be the greatest Country in the World.

Bishop McNamara issued the following Edict;

As and from 1/1/06 the Sins previously known as the
Seven Deadly Sins are to be downgraded to Venial Sins
and under no circumstances are Priests to be bothered with
them during Confession.

Postscript;

On 9/1/06 John Paul McNamara and thirteen of the
Bishops left the Priesthood and took up directorships in
the Halliburton Corporation.The other Bishop,Luis Garcia
Quinn is widely touted as the next Pope when the present
incumbent dies suddenly,his death to be announced next June.

Caught by the Short n' Curlies.

2006-02-13T10:55:00.000-08:00

Valentine's Day me bollix.

Valentine's day has been cancelled in our house due to lack of
romance,and all other forms of communication.Suffice to say
the atmosphere is so cold that you could hang meat there.Now
having spent the best years of my life in the dog-house,this
is not unknown territory for me but on this occasion the fault
lies not with me.

The Weekend had started off pleasantly enough when my
present wife,Malicia,invited her cousin Carol and her husband
out for the Saturday to celibrate my Birthday and we were
to go out for nose-bag on the Saturday night.All went fine
and dandy through the afternoon when we went out for a
few bevvies,watched the match and backed a few
losers,nothing extraordinary,so far so good.At around 5 bells
we headed back to our house to freshen-up and get ready
for the night out.

Malicia was arsing around in the kitchen,Carol and Jim were
watching telly when I went upstairs to take a shower.So
there I was,lathered-up and cleaning myself in a mild and
inoffensive manner,singing a light-hearted ditty,

"Innn me prison cell I sit,with me finger dipped in shitttt

and the shadow of me bollix on the waaalllllll",

when the lovely Carol eased the shower-curtain open a
little and smiling in at me purred sugestively,

"I have a special Birthday treat for you.......",

and a hand reached in and cupped my lathered Town-Halls.

Well holy gee,the hundred thoughts,all unprintable,that
flashed through my mind were interupted by hysterical
giggling from outside the curtains.

Malicia and Carol,doubled up laughing,with Malicia
wiping the soap from her hand,pair of bitches.

"If you could've seen your face,Barney",chortled Carol.

"I knew it was you",I spluttered to Malicia.

Like lots of things in my life,it all ended in tears.The next
morning,in the cold sober light of Malicia's day,

"You would've too,you dirty bastard "

"I didn't do anything "

"You didn't try to stop her,you dirty oul' melt "

"But but but "

Move over Glark.

Speak no Evil.

2006-02-10T10:54:00.000-08:00

Rory was a larger than life character,always good humoured,
full of fun and ever the optimist.We met when he came to live
in our area and we got on like a house on fire through our
mutual love of guzzling food and drink and our fondness for
horseracing and hunting.If a new restaurant opened anywhere
in the "Pale ",we just had to give it a try out,often spending
200 pounds on a meal for four,a shitload of money in the late
70s.I've often said we were never Millionaires,but by fuck we
lived like we were,we had a fuckin' ball in those days.We both
owned our own businesses at the time and while I because of
working 16/18 hours a day could just about afford our life-
style,Rory was somewhat different.

Rory was what was known as a loveable rogue,big smile,loud
laugh and always a great story to tell (Could use him here most
days ) and he could charm the birds out of the sky but he had
one fatal flaw,he never even tried to live within his means.He
and his family took two holidays a year along with several
long weekends,and both always drove decent cars.Rory was
also one of the best liars I have ever come across and could
quite easily have lied for Ireland,had there been an Olympic
competition for liars.Ireland was a big place in those days
because of no c.c.t.v.s or central computers and he was the
scourge of bank-managers up and down the country and was
a master of the art of Kite flying**,often having up to fifteen
different cheque-books on the go at once.His wife was as bad
as him and I often heard her say;

"Go out and cash an oul' cheque and we'll head off for the
Weekend."

As the possee closed in Rory became more desperate and
started bouncing cheques locally,where he had previously
kept his nose clean.He ended owing money to every trader
in town and plenty of individuals as well.The final straw was
him stroking a mutual friend,a pensioner who had just
received compensation for an accident,Rory did the poor
oul' cunt out of a Grand,end of story between us.I kissed
the money he owed me,about 2 Grand,goodbye,and put
it down to experience and anyway,the ride had been well
worth it.

Shortly after that the Banks reposessed Rory's house and
a short time later his wife fucked him out and he disappeared,
dipping beneath the radar for a couple of years.There were
plenty of sightings,

"You'll never guess who I saw in Manchester "

or

"I had a drink with your old mate in Galway last month,he
was asking for you "

Came the mid-Eighties and businesses ,including mine,were
closing down like it was going out of fashion due to the
re-fuckin'-session.Money was as scarse as hen's teeth and
the last thing we needed was a call from friend Rory.The
Fraud-squad had arrested him and he was asking/begging
me to bail him.

"How much will it be ?",thinking it would be a few hundred.

"Definately no more than 3 Grand."

"You're fuckin' joking,who'd you kill ?"

"Nobody,just a few cheques."

"Leave it with me "

I should have told him to fuck off,but there was still a little
history between us,and the poor cunt sounded desperate.
Mrs. Barney was a different story,she went into melt-
down, and she didn't know a fraction of what he had owed
me.

"If you give that Bastard another penny you needn't come
back here"

To tell you the truth it wasn't much of a dilemma because
if it was a question of a few hundred and I knew where he
lived,I could Bail him and phsyically drag him to Court If
I had to,but not knowing this and sure that he would do a
runner left me an easy choice.He rang again about 3 weeks
before the Trial to see if I was coming to court ,I said I
would,and I did.

The Prosecuting Lawyer took about 10 minutes to read
out all the charges,Fraudulently presenting cheques up and
down the Country and some in Germany which were the
real killers,and numerous other charges,including failing
to appear on several occasions,enough to make your hair
stand on end.The Gardai asked for the case to be put
back for three weeks and not surprisingly strenuously
objected to bail.The oul' bollocks of a Judge set Bail at
4 Thousand Punts and asked if there was a Bailsman
present.Rory's Solicitor stood up,

"I believe theres a Mr. Barney in court to act as Bailsman"

"Can you come to the Witness box please,Mr. Barney ?"
asked the Judge.

"Whats your name,etc.,etc."

"Did you bring a Bankers Draft to the Court with you ?"

"No, your Honour."

"Cash ? "

"No, your Honour."

"Well do you own your own Business ?"

"No, your Honour."

He looked at Rory,he looked at each Solicitor in turn,he
looked at the Detective and looked at me,

"Would you mind telling the Court,Mr. Barney,what
exactly you are doing here ?"

"Well your Honour,the last time I was given Bail,I only
had to sign something (true) to get myself released and
I assumed the same would apply here."

"Thank you Mr. Barney,you may leave the Witness box."

Postscript:

I met Rory about three years later,

"You're some bollix."

"What do you mean ?"

"You didn't Bail me,I had to do two years "

"I thought you'd get someone else "

"Who the fuck would bail me ?"

"Exactly "

I don't know whether he did actually do two years as he was
such a liar,but if he did,it seemed fair enough to me for all
the money he embezzled over the years.

* The Pale; When Ireland was part of the British Empire,
an area comprising of Dublin city and county,parts of
Kildare and a part of North Wicklow as far south as Bray was
more heavily protected than the rest of the Country and in
maps of the time this safer area was shown as a lighter
colour.From this comes the saying "Beyond the Pale ".We
generally only use the term "The Pale " nowadays for
Slagging and Banter.

** Kite flying ; Then as now,cheques (kites) took 5 days to
clear but the difference was that you could draw on the cheque
as soon as you lodged it,and if you knew the cheque was dodgy
you would lodge a different one on the fifth day.In theory you
could have made yourself out to be a millionaire (on paper) by
this practise,known as "Flying a Kite ".Nowadays this is not
possible as Banks will not allow you to draw on a Kite until
it has been cleared. Just one of the reasons they were called
"the good old days."

"

I've always wondered.

2006-02-08T16:29:00.000-08:00

With sincerest apologies to anyone who had to ware them and
to relatives of those brave men who died waring these helmets
I wish to comment on the tommy-helmets in use during
both great wars.Every time I see a war film I wonder who
designed the cumbersome-looking things and if they were as
awkward to wear as it appears ?Were they more efficient than
seems possible and if so why are they not in use to this day ?

The Americans and Germans had stream-lined helmets that
looked the part,as did the Italians and French.The British
Paratroopers,of which my uncle was one,had modern-type
headgear,so they can't have been unavailable.I noticed that
the air-raid wardens had similar helmets but that made some
sense as it would protect them from falling debris,but they
didn't have to bear arms.The Infantrymen who wore them
were expected run and jump around and be able to fire
.303 rifles while encumbered by something that looked like
a relic from the past.

I certainly wouldn't like to have been on the wrong end of a
Bayonet thrust by a Tommy wearing one of those helmets
but from this distance one can only say that those helmets
looked,if you'll excuse me saying so,useless and awkward. I
looked it up and could find no reference to their genesis.On
a very much lighter note,did you ever notice in those Roman/
Biblical epics where they show scenes from the Collisseum,
its always the Gladiator in the roundy helmet,him with the
Trident and net,that gets it first.

Golf Coarse ?

2006-02-08T10:29:00.000-08:00

Like Fatmammycat's nervous Filly,I was ambling home
with my newspapers this morning at a more considered
gait than normal,not because of feeling any more morose,
bitter,vindictive or bad-tempered than usual but I was
contemplating the final part of my" Wise Monkeys"
trilogy that I have been putting off with micky-mouse
posts like this for the last few days.It is not for want of a
subject or even subjects but the one I have chosen is
still a little painful to recall and relate,hence the delay
and contemplation but it will probably turn out to be
a load of bollocks anyway.

So there I was walking along the road, in a mild and
inoffensive manner,when a Merc. jerked to a halt across
the road,the driver rolled down the window and barked;

"Golf Course ?"

"What about it ?"

"Do you know where it is?"

"Of course I do.",and I walked on.

Little things like that can set you up for the whole day.

Quote of the Year

2006-02-07T16:01:00.000-08:00

Chris Rock's "Quote of the Year""You know the world is going crazy when the best rapper is a white guy,the best golfer is a black guy, the tallest guy in the NBA is Chinese,the Swiss hold the America's Cup, France is accusing the U.S. ofarrogance, Germany doesn't want to go to war, and the three mostpowerful men in America are named Bush, Dick, and Colon. Need I saymore?"

What can you say ?

Me llamo Barney, y tu ?

2006-02-07T12:10:00.000-08:00

For the last three weeks I've been attending a Spanish
Class for beginners,

now who is sorry he spent his English and Latin classes
messing at the back ?

Blog of the Week.

2006-02-06T10:59:00.000-08:00

Sincere thanks to all who voted for me on Blog of
the Week at Mischief of Magpies,
http://amischiefofmagpies.blogspot.com

I am over the fuckin' moon to have won it.I'm so happy
I could publish "those" cartoons.
Or even these "http://isaacsays.blogspot.com

All I'm Saying is.......

2006-02-05T18:35:00.000-08:00

You don't mind "Who wants to be a Millionaire " so
much because there is a bit of skill involved,along with
a good dose of general knowledge and also because of
the structure of the show with its multiple choice answers
lets us all have a go at guessing the answers .Its also
great fun watching some cunt squirm and sweat before
losing 93,000 pounds when you know the answer.The
shows that get on my tits are the ones that give out
thousands of pounds with no skill involved like that
Lotto show over here with the audience oohing and
aahing and whooping like Zulus whenever someone wins
another car or holiday.I know some of the audience will
be members of the contestant's family and therefore
stand to gain something.

But what is the attraction here,all I'm saying is what is
the point in watching some other cunt winning a shit-
load of money.

All I'm saying is...

2006-02-03T15:10:00.000-08:00

Minister for Transport,Martin Cullen,recently announced
that four out of every ten road deaths are the direct result
of drink driving.That means that 60% of all road deaths
are caused by sober drivers,so if they only allowed drink-
drivers on the road...............

See no Evil

2006-02-02T14:35:00.000-08:00

Firstly,we'll have a quick run through one of the many parts
that make up the art of training a canine athlete,for athletes
are what Greyhounds are.From an early age a Greyhound is
able to reach top speed in a few strides and maintain that
speed for a short space of time,what he has to be taught is how
to race at top speed on an oval circuit.They must learn to Trap
(leave the boxes all dogs are in at the start,as quickly as possible),
and Rail (run around the corners at full speed,despite the 5 other
dogs all around them).This is achieved by giving them experience
and confidence at what is called a schooling track,which has a
circuit,surface and electric "Hare" similar to a real race track.

Each visit to a schooling track will show the Trainer how much
progress each Greyhound is making,each dog being an
individual and therefore likely to train-on at different rates and
to different levels.The standard distance of a race is 525 yards
and a moderate dog can cover this distance in 30 seconds or at
a rate of 0.o57 seconds per yard.The distance in which a race
is won (or lost) is given in "Lengths " and a greyhound will
cover his own lenght in 0.07 secs.All clear ? Right,on with the
story,and as the Seanchai* of old used to say,

"If theres a lie in it,'twasn't me who put it there."

Myself and me oul' mate the Jockey arrived at the schooling
track and it was not unusual to find others there ahead of us.
We took our dogs for a short walk to empty themselves and
also to be seen to be minding our own business as is the
etiquette.

The three men,only one of whom we knew,seemed to be
fussing a lot over their dog before,during and after the
trial.The dog was checked for injury to his toes,legs neck
and back so thoroughly that the checkee must have been
a Vet and we were sorry not to have "Clocked "(timed) the
trial ,for our own future benefit,when we saw this.

Before we had our trials,Jim the track operator started
fiddling with the Hare-rail as if there was something
wrong with it and continued until the three men
departed,two with the dog,the third following in his own
van.After a short time ,much to our bemusement,Jim
strolled over to the winning post,yanked it out of the
ground and replaced it about 10 yards away.

What happened was that the third man was trying
to sell his dog,subject to a good trial and soundness and
had arranged with Jim to move the post,shortening the
distance and making the Greyhound appear about 12
lengths faster than he actually was.Since this made a
difference of about 5 thousand pounds to the price,it
is safe to assume that Jim got a nice back-hander out
of it and the two buyers went back to Northern
Ireland thinking they had a future Derby winner with them.

Could you be up to the cunts ?,talk about Caveat bleedin' Emptor.

*Seanchai ;These were semi-pro story-tellers in the Ireland
before electricity,radio and television.They were greatly
valued for their store of tales and expertise at telling all
manner of tales in prose and sometimes poetry,captivating
their audience for hours on end.They would move from
village to village bringing all the gossip as well as their
stories and would be fed,watered and sheltered like royalty
on their arrival.
With his thoughtful poetry and beautifully descriptive and
evocative language and turns of phrase,I think the most
excellent Dr. Maroon would have made a super Seanchai.

Glark

2006-02-02T11:15:00.000-08:00

Today I would like to introduce you to Glark,
the only Dinosaur-hound in the world.He was
raised by Cannibals in the Amazon jungle,where
he promptly ate his siblings and mother but his
diet nowadays is raw meat,rice and Fusion-food,
he particularly likes the fusion of hair,flesh,blood
and bones of Poodles.Even though he appears to
be colour-blind he prefers the black ones and will
always eat the black ones first,given a choice.

His acute sense of smell makes him ideal for
seeking out anonymous commenters,and since
I blooded him with his first anonymous,he has
taken to seek and destroy missions like a duck to
water.

He is available for hire,details on request.

Hear no Evil

2006-02-01T09:53:00.000-08:00

So there I was,caught red-handed loading ten boxes of
bananas into my van aided by the two thieves who had
stolen them.Their rightful owner had followed the thieves
and his goods (at a safe distance ) and was not best pleased.
He insisted on calling the Piggies despite him knowing me
or maybe because of it ,and furthermore insisted on
charges being brought,in face of my protestations of
innocence in any wrongdoing.

After being charged in the Bridewell with" Receiving
stolen Goods "I cursed my luck and headed across
to Ormond Quay to get myself a Solicitor.Now anybody
who reads this blog or any anonymous cunts who know
me already know my opinion of Solicitors as being the
lowest of the low,the second oldest profession in the World,
and not nearly as honourable as the oldest.The reason that
I wanted to use a stranger was because my own Solicitor is
quite expensive and anyway,it was none of his business,also
I considered Receiving to be too trivial to bother too much
about.

If you knew this area,you'd know there is an infestation of
solicitors in the area,each one seedier than the last,the one
I randomly picked turned out to be the seediest of the lot,
a Dickensian character the great man himself would have
been delighted to conjure.I outlined my case to him,how it
was my business to buy and sell fruit and veg.,and,of course,
the cheaper I bought,the better.I assured him that I had no
idea the bananas were stolen and that it was common
practise not to be issued with receipts for cash purchases.

He leaned back in his plastic-covered chair and regarded me
over the top of his spectacles,

"So you'd no idea they were stolen ?"

"No."

"None whatever ?"

"Thats right "

"You met these men and you bought ten boxes of bananas
off them,even though they were stolen ?"

"I didn't know they were stolen,how could I ?"

"You're sure you didn't know?"

"I'm sure."

"Are you positive ?",all the time with a straight face. We
stared at each other for a few seconds,then,

"What sort of an imbecile do you take me for ? Of course
I knew they were stolen."

He went fucking ballistic and shouted,

"How dare you tell me you knew they were stolen and
expect me to defend you in Court,Don't ever tell me that
again."

Postscript;

the two cunts who signed statements involving me were
found not guilty of theft but guilty of Stealing by finding,
received fines and suspended sentences.
The charge against me was dropped,due to lack of evidence,
and the solicitor who got 80 pounds off me before telling
me the charge was dropped (80 pounds was a lot of money in
the late 70s ),I never saw again,

Smack the Pony

2006-01-30T20:45:00.000-08:00

The Irish Government announced today that it is to
introduce a ban on smacking in public,long before similar
legislation is due before the courts in the European Union.
Hoping to fend off objections from self-interested parties,
Minister for Children,Maurice Munchken said ,

"Ireland will lead the World by showing enlightenment in
all aspects of childcare.We have 500 million Euro left-over
in E.U. funding and by God,we're not sending it back,we've
already gotten through 18 million coming up with our new
slogan,it is, "Spare the Rod ".

"And spoil the child." Said Iggy Brown of of the Hospitality
Confederation,adding,

"This will surely bring about the collapse of our failing
tourism industry,if the French,German and British tourists
can't bate their children in Ireland,they'll go elsewhere to
do it.These people have a culture of Smacking and they
expect to be able to do it when they are abroad."

Bill Byrne from the Drinks Council added his disgust that
they had not been consulted and hoped that Restaurants and
Pubs would be allowed introduce seperate smacking areas
for their customers.He also said,

"It will be intolerable if children are able to run riot in our
premises without the fear of getting a good wallop from a
parent to put manners on them,its bad enough that we're
not allowed to clatter them,as it is.

Travellers Rights associations are also up in arms over the
proposed legislation saying its yet another assault on their
ancient traditions.Spokesman Mikey Connors said,

"Theres not a man among ye that'll stop me batin' me
childer if I've a mind to,I meself was bet crooked as a chap,
and divil the bit of harm it did me.How is a young lad going
to learn to bate his missus when hes fifteen if he doesn't
get a good hiding when he is young to show him how to do it
properly ?"

In a bizarre twist to this story,two young boys were arrested
in Fairview Park,Dublin,for causing unnessarary cruelty to
themselves.The boys had been spotted by an off-duty Garda
smacking themselves on the rump while engaged in a game
of Cowboys and Indians.Sgt.O'Shea,who is on unpaid leave at
the moment said,

"I observed the culprits give themselves several hefty whacks
to their behinds with their open hands,all the while urging
themselves to giddy-up."Rolling his neck in discomfort,the Sgt.
added,

"Although the new law isn't on the books yet,we have enough to
charge them with under the Offences against the person act and
the current Cruelty to Children laws."

When I asked why he was on leave and had he nothing better to
do,Sgt.O'Shea told me to Fuck off.

Kitty O'Shea's,Molly Bloom's,Etc.

2006-01-29T20:21:00.000-08:00

If theres anything more pathetic than" Irish Pubs " around the
world,its the sad wankers that frequent them.Irish pubs in
Ireland are bad enough but the "Plastic Paddy "version you
come across everywhere else are the pits,the dingle-berries
on the arse-hole of society.

It would be bad enough for some raggidy-haired Continental
saddo mandolin player to wander in ,searching for like-minded
noise-polluters to have a session,but for an Irishman to go into
one,to actually search for one is an abomination.

To go to a strange and exotic city is a wonderful experience and
a great privilige and only comparatively recently available to
the masses,why would you want to waste even one minute of
your experience in a pastiche of what you have left behind.Not
to mention that you pay through the bollix for the pleasure.The
owners and management know what you are willing to pay
for drink at home and charge you accordingly when you visit
their establishment,often twice the local price.

My first encounter with an Irish Bar was in Lanzarote in the 80s
and we were invited to a Reps. meeting the day after arrival,in
an Irish bar,for info. and free Sangria.Having spat out the piss-
water Sangria I ordered two pints and a quick Peseta/Punt
calculation told me I was after paying about 2.50 per pint,same
as Dublin.This was quite a shock for me as I had been led to
believe that the gargle was "for nuthin' "in the Canaries.I might
have been none the wiser had they not driven us out by playing
some diddley-eye shite that some cunt had brought over.Down
the road we went on a pub crawl with the pint getting progress-
ively cheaper,I think we ended up paying about 80p a pint,the
thieving Irish bastards.

On the odd occasion I've been in one since,I've noticed that they
have as much in common with an Irish bar as green beer,the
staff weren't Irish,the owners weren't Irish and the music,well
they wouldn't dare play it in any bar I frequent.Thats only if the
poxy Karaoke isn't on,and/or some football-match blaring,how
is there always a match on ?

Irish Bars and the wankers who go into them deserve each other.

The Lonely Duckling

2006-01-27T11:34:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time,on a farm far away,there lived a family of
Barbary ducks.There was nothing spectacular or different
about this family of ducks except perhaps they were more
dilligent about their tasks and very hard-working,com-
pared to other families of ducks on that farm.

Even less unusual and remarkable was the second youngest
member of the Barbary family until one day he met and
fell in love with the prettiest Mallard he had ever seen.He
began to swim with the flock of Mallard whenever they
landed on his pond.He listened in awe as they related tales
to each other of the strange and exotic places they had been,
what they had seen and who they had met.Above all,he
loved the beautiful greeny-blue,grey and white plumage
of the male Mallards and longed to become one himself.

"How can I compete with such beauty ?, Why would she
ever love me ?, he used to cry to himself.

The years passed by and he saw his beloved Mallard come
and go but at least she had not mated-up with another,yet.
He saw all the changes at the farm,saw his beloved parents
pass away too,

"Is that all thats in store for me ?,a sad and lonely life with
nobody to love.To die in this miserable shithole and never
see the world ?"

The more he considered this,the more depressed he became,
and he stopped going to the pond altogether so as not to
torment himself with that which he could never have.He
became so withdrawn that the other animals began to
worry about his health and brought the matter to the att-
ention of the Queen of the farm-yard,the mother goose.
When she heard of his dilemma,she summoned him and
chided him gently,

"You silly little Barbary,all you have to do is to ask your
siblings for a few of their feathers,then you'll have enough
feathers to fly and you'll be as handsome as any Mallard."

"Do you think so ?,do you think they'll give them to me ?"

"Of course they will,They're your family and they love
you,they want to see you happy.",she told him.

So he asked each and every member of his family and they
all agreed to give him some of their feathers.

"You're all so good,thank you so much."

"Not a problem,sure we don't need them.",they all replied.

But unknown to the lonely duck,his family met in secret to
discuss the situation and began to have misgivings about the
whole deal.

"If I give him 6 feathers,why then he'll have 36 feathers more
than me."

"And me."

"And me,why should I do that ?"

"It wouldn't be fair."

"It wouldn't be right."

"He would have too many feathers,far more than us."

When he went to collect the promised feathers,each member
of his family had an excuse not to give any over.

"I've just done a count and I need all my feathers."

"I might need them in the future."

"Actually,I havn't enough feathers,can you give me some of
yours ? "

The lonely duckling was so disappointed that he didn't ask the
rest and went to his nest.His love,in the meantime,heard about
the efforts he had made and about him being let down by his
family and decided there and then to stay with the unfortunate
Barbary on the farm pond.

Next morning she went to tell him the news and express her love
but she found him lying on his back,cold as ice.

The poor lonely duck died of a broken heart,unable to bear the
disappointment and loss of all his dreams.

Plastic is a Cunt.

2006-01-26T19:26:00.000-08:00

I fucking hate plastic and the fact that it is everywhere
and entirely unavoidable makes me hate it even more,
theres no fucking end to it.Not only that but experts
believe most of the shit we're producing now will still
be with us in a thousand years ( I don't know how they
know this but I do know that an old dump in Bray,Co.
Wicklow,closed this 30 years was recently pictured in
the New York Times *,collapsing into the sea with all the
plastic in the same condition as when it was buried).

When Ireland introduced a tax on plastic bags to reduce
the use of plastic,it had the opposite effect as you'd be
hard pressed now to buy anything that is not
smothered in plastic of a far greater density.The only
winners because of this tax are the Supermarket chains
who save millions of Euro by not having to buy and give
free carrier-bags because most of their customers now
bring their own bags.Fair enough,you don't see as many
plastic bags stuck in trees and ditches but now we are
producing mountains of poly-styrene trays and plastic
trays,boxes and punnets.

I don't know how people managed years ago when their
meat or fish was wrapped in a geeful of brown paper and
greaseproof,if at all.Nowadays your meat,fish and chicken
is pumped so full of water,salt and other shit that they
wouldn't stay in a brown bag pissin' time and end up on
the floor before you left the counter.This process is known
as Value Added,and value added is what it is,only not for
the consumer but for the retailer who can gain up to 30%
on the original weight.Also value is the increasingly popular
use of vacuum-packing,which increases the shelf life of
fresh products by at least five days but is wrapped in
plastic far more dense than normal plastic.

The worlds annual consumption of plastic has increased
from 5 million tonnes in the 50s to over 100 million
tonnes today with the U.K. alone producing 3 million
tonnes of waste every year of which,up to 2003 only
17.9% was recycled.This leaves a fair bit for land-fills
and incineration,and litter.56% of all litter found on
beaches is plastic,how was your fish supper last night ?

What about wildlife ?,I don't hear you ask,most sea-
birds in the world are filled with plastic.Heres someone
who,unlike me,does know what hes talking about.
“It’s a disgrace for humankind that we have so much unnecessary rubbish,” says Dr Jan van Franeker, a Dutch marine biologist. “We should respect other forms of life on this planet, not offload our problems onto them.”
Franeker is a world expert on plastic waste at sea who has been leading a “Save the North Sea” research project funded by European governments for the past two years. Last week, at the Alterra laboratory on the Dutch island of Texel, he revealed his results exclusively to the Sunday Herald.
The scale and extent of the plastic pollution he has uncovered is staggering. Nineteen out of every 20 dead fulmars analysed by his team from around the North Sea had plastic in them. Each bird had swallowed an average of 44 pieces, weighing a total of 0.33 grams. One fulmar found in Belgium had ingested 1603 pieces, while another from Denmark had 20.6 grams of plastic in its stomach – equivalent to two kilograms in a human-sized stomach.
Franeker’s team collected 560 dead fulmars from the shores of eight countries around the North Sea between 2002 and 2004, plus 38 from the Faroes for comparison. Fulmars are members of the petrel family of seabirds and are common throughout the North Sea.
They feed at sea, eating fish, squid, plankton and carrion from near the surface. But at the same time they seem to ingest any waste, like plastic, which is floating around, causing them to be dubbed “flying dustbins”.
But Franeker stressed that it is not just boats that are to blame. Some of the waste is dumped into rivers and washed out to sea, and some, like plastic bags and balloons, is blown off the land.
“That 95% of fulmars in the North Sea area have plastic in their stomachs is shocking enough, but when you think that this is just an indicator species, which feeds solely at sea, and scale the problem up you start to realise how many, and to what extent, other marine mammals and birds are affected.
“More needs to be done to tackle marine litter sources round the coast of Scotland – and we can only urge people to have some pride, and think before leaving litter at the beach, throwing unwanted items overboard or discharging waste illegally.”
Franeker also found evidence that North Sea fulmars are feeding plastic waste to their chicks in regurgitated food. After breeding, adult birds recorded lower levels of plastic in their stomach than chicks.
In another study in the Antarctic, he found plastic fragments in the stomachs of eight out of every 10 chicks born to small seabirds called Wilson’s storm petrels. An analysis of Laysan albatross chicks that had died in their nests in Hawaii uncovered a wide range of ingested plastic debris, including a cigarette lighter, a toothbrush, a tampon applicator, a toy robot, a golf ball, and lids from a car battery and shampoo bottle.

Now you'll believe me ,plastic is a cunt,but you knew that already.

*I tried for hours to up/download the picture,but you can see it at
http://www.earthopenetwork.net/ Ireland's _ Garbage_ Secrets _Come_ Glaringly _to _Light.htm

Ring for Service.

2006-01-24T21:31:00.000-08:00

And thats another thing,whatever happened to those
buttons that used to be on the back of benches in bars
and lounges ? After a fair bit of pressing,a barman or
lounge-boy would appear to take your order and all
would be right with the world.Now with all the re-vamps
and modernization that most watering-holes are under-
going,these gimme-drinks have become a thing of the past.
They're passing has become synonymous with all that is
wrong with the service industry today.
These ring-for service buttons are the live version of
operator busy telephone calls and seem to be designed to
annoy and irritate rather than help customers even when the
little bastards do work.You feel such a gobshite pressing them
as they are usually silent anyway and you never know if
they are working or not,or if the cunt whose attention you
require is out the back somewhere,giggling at you and
watching your exasperation through C.C.T.V.,the sleeveen
cunt.Dare you press it more than once and some harridan
with a puss like a bag of nails on her will dash forth and ate
you for your impudence and impatience and for having the
gall to disturb her knitting or playing with herself or any of
the hundred things that are more important to her than
attending to you.

Getting back to far more important things,namely getting
the drink in and how difficult it can be sometimes,some of
those little cunts of lounge-boys/girls seem to have been to
college to study the art of avoiding eye contact and quite
often the only way to get their attention is to trip him/her
up so they snot themselves.I saw it once in a film and have
used it successfully several times since at large gatherings
like funerals and dinner-dances,where you tear a tenner in
half early in the evening and give one half to the least brain-
dead of the floor-staff,promising him the other half at the
end of the evening if he looks after you,well let me assure
you,he'll climb over dead bodies to take your order.

There is,of course,no problem in your own local when your
large Paddy and pint will be on the counter before you reach
it,but what about your next drinks if the barman is out the
back or in the lounge or fuck knows where ?If you tap the
counter or whistle you'll get the look,if you shout you
run the risk of being thought to be drunk and refused service.
Even where buttons-for-service did exist,a regular daren't
press one,they were only for strangers and visitors.A regular
pressing a button would get the look that told him,in no
uncertain terms to fuck off can't you see I'm fucking busy
slicin' fucking lemons or readin' my fucking paper and I'll
fucking serve you when I'm good and fucking ready.And
thats you in your fucking place.

Well stick your buttons up your arse then.

Just Wondering......

2006-01-23T15:16:00.000-08:00

I know there are clever and devious cunts out there
and I was just wondering what you would do to annoy
a contrary and troublesome neighbour who is in the
process of laying a new and expensive lawn.It is now
ready for seeding.All hypothetical,of course.

Fak me,Wot a Sight.

2006-01-21T12:45:00.000-08:00

Even as thousands of Londoners lined both sides of the
Thames to witness a sight never seen in living memory,
the emergency services,Greenpeace,P.E.T.A. and the
Anti-terrorist squad were swinging in to action.In a
turn-about of events ,a spokesperson for Greenpeace,
Mz. Liz Dunga-Rees said ,

"It is vital that we all work together to prevent the
demise of something so rare and close to extinction
as this.They were at their most plentiful at the turn of
the 19th century and continued to prosper right up to
comparatively recent times,but since the 70s most
have been hunted out of existence.We only have
ourselves to blame.",she added,shaking her cropped-
haired head bitterly.

A Thames Light-house man,also an endangered
species,who did not wish to be named said,

"Fak me,I thought I was seeing fakin' things as it
cruised up past me." He went on to say,

"I've never seen anything like it, "

"Theres never been anything like it" said his wife

"Ohhh,I've never seen anything like it in my life."

Now becoming increasingly distressed and
disorientated there is a real danger of it either
running aground or getting tangled in some of the
numerous obstructions to be found in Mother
Thames.To date, all attempts at empathy or
establishing contact have failed,including the
playing of Whales-in-distress sounds at the mouth
of the river.

The Sun Newspaper (sic) have launched a
Get your tits out campaign to raise awareness,
page three girl ,Gee-Gee said,

"The only thing for it is flash our tits in solidarity
so,come on girls,show them what we're made of."

A spokesman for the Japanese Embassy said,

" おはようございます どうもありがとうございます "

She finished by saying,

"どうもありがとうございます " **

The fact,however,is nobody knows why a fully-functioning
Japanese Whaler should suddenly appear outside the
Houses of Parliament on the river Thames.

** "Fucked if I know "

Hanging is too good for 'em.

2006-01-19T21:11:00.000-08:00

Having just read Bintys excellent,thoughtful and
provocative post http://averagetosser.blogspot.com. ,
and re-read an older one on the same subject,I hope he
doesn't mind if I play Devil's Advocate here for a bit.

I salute him for his forgiving nature and his faith in
humanity.Being the possesser of neither traits and with
no wish to gain them ,I have always supported the Death
penalty and given the chance would add a few more crimes
to be dealt with in this way.One wonders what sort of
Democracy we live in when the pollsters constantly tell
us that the majority of voters in Great Britain and in
Ireland are in favour of Capital Punishment,yet is never
used although I think it remains on the statute books.

Statistically most of the populace can never have been
directly effected by the heinous crimes under consider-
ation here but still hold these views and whats wrong
with wanting Justice or even Revenge.They're perfectly
human traits which have served the Race well since time
began.Spite ? Maybe it is spiteful to wish to see some
toe-rag hanged or fried for killing a loved one,but it is also
a very natural reaction .I sincerely hope Binty never feels
the desire to change his views following personal experience
and of course the World would be a better place if it was
full of people like Binty and empty of cunts like me,but it
ain't gonna happen.Wake up and smell the shite.

That woman's mother is behaving in a saintly manner and
I hope she gets peace of mind and heart.For most people
though,a killer might just as well have murdered a victim's
entire family as well,such is the sense of loss ,desolation
and sense of vulnerability and the only true closure they
will ever get is one the death of the murderer.
Paradoxically the only murderer that I never wanted to
see hanged is the bastard who killed someone very close
to me and that is because when he is released,the last
thing the cunt will ever see is a certain person standing
over him with a pair of pliars.Fact.

Update........20/1/06

Its just been brought to my attention that Kim Ayres also
did a post http://kimayres.blogspot.com. on this very
subject yesterday,so between us you have the Good,the
Bad and the Ugly of Capital Punishment.

True Love Ways.

2006-01-18T14:18:00.000-08:00

Doctor Tim was in particularly good form last night and it
took little coaxing to find out why.Halfway down his second
snifter he began,

"I took my wife out for a meal over the weekend to mark
our anniversary,"he beamed,"the food was divine,the
service excellent and the wine was just right.The band had
made the atmosphere just perfect and having dropped the
band-leader a few bob to play our tune,Gloria almost swooned
in my arms as we rounded off the evening with a dance.We each
had a Hennessy before going to bed and when we'd finished
making love,I'd swear she was floating on air."

With a silly smile on his face he finished his drink and ordered
another.Theres no answer to that,or so I thought.Willow replied,

"Same here,I took the missus out for a few pints and had a
chinese on the way home.When the sex was over she must
have been a foot over the bed."

The Jockey,who had been quiet up to this,piped up,

"Thats nothing,me and the mot had a rake of gargle on Sunday
afternoon and we shared a fish'n'chips as we walked home.
When I'd finished riding the arse off her I wiped me micky on
the curtains and she hit the fucking roof."

Do I owe you anything for that ?

2006-01-17T15:13:00.000-08:00

Once again the notion of a force of Garda Reserves has been
suggested by Justice Minister Michael mcDowell,and they
are to be given powers of arrest after just twelve two-hour
training sessions and a weekend on the piss,otherwise known
as a "Getting to know you " session.Chief among the many
objectors are the permanent Gardai,who have to complete
55 weeks training before being let loose on the public.

Garda spokesman Sean Backhander said,

"This is a dreadful state of affairs,we will lose all credibility
with the public ,all respect will be gone.",before adding

"Its not as easy as people might imagine,getting things for
nothing off people.",shaking his head ruefully.
The facts seem to bear this out and a new Garda has been
found to need a probationary period of three or four months
following Graduation,including on-the-beat patrols with an
experienced Garda,before even thinking about lining his
pockets.

A new recruit on his first day in training at Templemore is
taught to ask,

"Do I owe you anything for that ?"., when buying anything
from a newspaper to a second-hand car,or for any services
from a puncture repair to a wall being built.No shop-keeper
or trades-man likes dealing with the force as its usually near-
impossible to get paid off the cunts.Some traders feel that its
nice to have a Garda or two on their side but it usually proves
to be a false security because if you are unfortunate enough to
be caught for something,chances are you'll be told.
"I can't do anything for you,yer man is a proper bastard and
won't play the game."
If you don't bother your bollocks asking one of the cunts you'll
be told,

"Jasus,why didn't you come and see me,that could've been
sorted."

Aye,a proper shower of cunts,but what type of cunt would
want to be a volunteer Garda Reserve officer ?Take a look
around you,you know the type,they're the very ones who
should never be selected.Be afraid !

Dead Mice Walking

2006-01-16T13:09:00.000-08:00

I hate those meeces to pieces ............Update.

The problem was obviously worse than I thought and
the little cunts have eaten me out of house and home,in the
rat-bait sense I mean.Twelve Euro worth,1/2 Kilo of best
block-bait,gone.Great fuckin' stuff this,I thought,its so
effective they're bringing all their mates around to party.
Its the fucking Greens again,getting all the good stuff
taken out of the poison,like they did with D.D.T.

D.D.T. was the business,before the cunts got it banned in
the Seventies.If you treated a flea-ridden dog with it,you
could see them jumping off the dog,stone dead.Any fleas that
didn't jump,you'd comb out later,and them black as coal.Not
only that,but the dog would stay flea-free for the year,no ice,
no lemon and no fuckin' messin',as the bar manager used to
say to us.There was also the side effect of saving millions upon
millions from Malaria,and Malaria is becoming so rampant
again that more countries are starting to use D.D.T. again.

Anyway,like all men,in times of crisis and when all else fails,
read the instructions.And there you have it,like a big
gobshite I've been poisoning already poisoned mice as the
bait takes three or four days to work.

On a lighter note note I'm to become even more of a cartoon
character over at Barbie's new site.He and Kim Ayres have
created a new cartoon site at http://bluntcogs.blogspot.com. and
I wish him the best of luck with it and hope they have an ocean
of fun.

Saturday - A blank canvas before me

2006-01-14T12:10:00.000-08:00

I can't decide whether to bother with a post today or
leave it till later.There doesn't seem to be too many
around so maybe I'll leave it,drink whiskey and back a
few horses.Yes,thats a far better idea and I might come
up with a decent post,on the other hand I might drink a
little too much,lose a shit-load of money and slide into
a depression that could last for endless minutes.Then
where would we be,we'd be back to square one and I'd
be pissed off with myself for writing nothing,then the day
is nearly gone and it'll be too late to post 'cause it might
stop me posting tomorrow.

Theres a lot to be said for having structures in your life,
apparently.

Harvey.

2006-01-13T12:17:00.000-08:00

I suppose its my own fault for not sorting the little
cunt out as soon as I copped him,but at first I thought
I was imagining things.After all it wouldn't be the
first time I saw things that weren't there.

I must digress here for a minute and tell you about
a friend of mine who trained greyhounds.He had just
received ten rabbits which he was to "show" to the
dogs and next morning found they had all escaped.
Frank lived in a fairly built-up area and not wishing
to alert the neighbours about what he had been up to
was searching as inconspicuously as possible for his
runaways.He peeped over a neighbour's fence and
saw the occupant staring goggle-eyed out the back-
garden.Now this man was a hard-core alcoholic and
was obviously the worse for wear,as he opened the
window he screamed out

"Jaysus Frank,I've just seen the biggest rat I ever saw
in my life."

Did you ever notice how nobody ever sees a small rat,its
always

"I've just seen a big fuckin' rat ." Its never a medium rat
or a baby rat,no its always a big,huge fuckin' rat.

Suffice to say I did nothing about it as my first reaction
to any problem is to put it on the back-boiler.I had a
good idea that my wildlife wasn't a rat so I wasn't that
concerned,but by fuck,mice can make some mess,the
little cunts.I didn't bother with traps as they're too
messy and anyway I didn't tell anyone that we had
visitors so traps would have been a bit of a giveaway.
Besides I've always thought that the best way to get rid
of vermin is to feed them,so there are a few mice with
sore bellies in the Barney household at the moment.

The only good thing about having mice is that you know
they'll never stick around where a rat is living.

Names and Faces

2006-01-11T19:28:00.000-08:00

Rather than reply to the thoughtful and incisive comments
after yesterdays post,I have sneakily decided to chance
another post out of the subject.In truth I was rather
surprised to find that I am not the only one to spend time
wondering who or what our fellow bloggers may be,and
feeling apprehensive and less than confidant of wherever
the realities lie. I suppose we are all somewhat like small
children wanting to believe in Santa against all the odds
and available evidence,in hoping and wanting our
favourites to be somewhere close or at least in the same
parish as who we imagine them to be.

Even in real life none of us see ourselves as others see
us,how else can you explain Janet Street-Porter and
Jonathan Ross,two,to put it mildly,rather plain people
with annoying speech impediments.One would have
thought that they would have taken one look in the mirror,
or had one listen to themselves on tape and said fuck it,I'll
just stay in the background.Look at them now,the cunts
don't doubt themselves for a minute.I used to take the
occasional order on the phone and one young lady always
asked for me to take her order.We used to have a bit of
skit along the way and she had a really nice and friendly
voice,sort of low and purring and breathless.As time went
by our conversations became more flirty and filled with
double-meanings until one day my driver didn't turn up
and I had to do the deliveries myself and I would be
lying if I said that I wasn't looking forward to meeting my
flirt-mate.My excitement mounted as I carried her goods
through the doors as I anticipated seeing her for the first
time.Words cannot describe the disappointment and
feelings of deflation I saw on that that young womans face.
It thought me a fuckin' good lesson,I can tell you.

So precisely because we will never meet and therefore
can never be proved wrong,I'll go first in describing the
select few.We'll do the wimin first only because they'll be
the easiest in our imaginations and also because we all know
that ladies do not fib,exaggerate or behave in a dishonest
manner,ever.Also because the alternative would be too
unbearable to contemplate as we have all fallen in love,
to a greater or lesser degree,with Lindy,Andraste,Fat-
mammycat ,Just Breathe and the sexy one,We'll take
them at face value,give them a few tweaks and twiddles
in our fertile imaginations and let the hare sit.

Dr. Maroon,ah the good doctor,I have him down as a cross
between Sean Connery and that little fellow out of four
weddings,only more charming and of course far more
intelligent.

I'm including Twenty here as well even though he has
never shown any interest in our community but his
was the first blog I ever read.I'd imagine him to be
a yuppy journalist living in luxury on the South-side
of Dublin,possibly Foxrock.He is in his mid-thirties
and has never been in a row in his life,other than
when he was being bullied at school.

Nice Charlie is normally nice when things run
smoothly but he shows a nice little bit of vitriol
when its warranted.

Wouldn't you just love to go on the piss with Footsie,
Brewski and Binty but at this stage I'd have to raid
a chemist for their entire stock of Dexedrine just to
last the night with the mad cunts,just reading their
blogs wear me out.

We'll have to include Barbie here because even though
he doesn't drink he doesn't need to as hes mad as
fuck without it and also theres a new side to him I'm
only beginning to appreciate as he alluded to his
partiality to substances today so theres room for
manouvre there,so Barbie you're driving.

Joke Mail I love like a brother but never lets his
essence slip,so the jury has to stay out for the
moment.

Gorilla Bananas is more of a voice for me,he is my
conscience,the one I never wanted.His voice is the
voice of Lion King's father ,deep, kind and honest.

This brings us to that mad fucker,Dr.Evil.Ian
Flemming should be resurrected just to include
him as a foil for Mr.Bond.We may or maybe not
related but if we are,stay the fuck away from him
'cause he has to be a horrible bollix.

I'm sorry if I've left anyone out but I'm fed up
typing this and it was only supposed to be a short
and handy post anyway.

Blogology

2006-01-10T19:02:00.000-08:00

I've been giving this blogging thing some thought and
have come to the conclusion that I for one spend far
too much time with it.This is partly due to my techno-
imbecility and my ponderous one-fingered typing,so I
suppose its a wonder that I can produce a post atall.Our
little blogging community is so small and insigificant in
the huge world that it is unlikely we will ever meet each
other,or even meet anyone who has ever read any of
our blogs.I tried this at the weekend by exclaiming loudly
enough; I tug my beard at you with respect,Brewski'd
love this or the Doc. won't be pleased with Celtic several
times and in different places.While I wasn't locked up I
certainly received my share of odd looks and askew
glances,go ahead,try it yourself.

What brought this about was a post or comment by
Barbie and,I think Andraste ( I can't be arsed checking,
never let facts spoil a good post is what I say )about
saying things in your blog that you wouldn't say in
public !!Bollocks,why the fuck not.Whats the point in
having people around if you can't abuse them,verbally
I mean.Sure,sometimes you have to tone it down a
little if you're looking for something off,say a bank
manager or a boss or your spouse.But if you don't get
it,then let them have it as well,both barrels.

This is all very well,says you,coming from someone
hiding behind a pseudonym,and you're right except my
reason for doing so is to prevent my ill-gotten gains
from being taken off me by litigants I have insulted and
fully intend to insult in the future, unintentionally,of
course.Mostly I have always said what needed to be
said,to the point of being a social phsycopath,which I've
been told I am and have cut great chunks off my nose
to spite my face.I would like to think that most of our
incestuous little community are reasonably honest and
true to themselves but you never know,we might not
like each other should we ever meet.Dr. Maroon comes
across as a decent man,Brewski and Barbie you could
have a pint with but you don't know,they could be all
middle-aged women.Theres a bit of craic about Fmc. and
Andraste but they could be nuns,mother-superiors even.
For all we know they could all be teenage computer-
geeks.

Just thought I'd mention it,that all,but isn't it great craic.

Cheerful Charlie

2006-01-08T12:07:00.000-08:00

Charles Kennedy forced to resign after admitting
abusing alcohol.
Like I've always said,never admit to fuck all.

If a liar admits lying,how do you know if hes
telling the truth ?

How the fuck does Menzies become Ming ?

I've been reading some of the comments I posted here
and there yesterday and some of them seem a little
ratty,even for me.All I can say is Jagermeister.