Can they leave nuthin' alone ?

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

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.

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

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

X Rated

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.

Split-Stomach Day

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 .

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

Stateside

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

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...............................

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

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.

" 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 ..........................

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

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

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.