Who ya gonna call….Ghostbusters

Enda was beginning to doubt the wisdom of his Image Consultant

Enda was beginning to doubt the wisdom of his Image Consultant

It was the annual Halloween Costume Ball down at the Club and all forms of misfits, ghouls, monsters and their costumes were on parade. I stood upright at the bar, waiting for my chums Biffo “The Garda” Boyle and Spike Righteous to arrive, viewing and no doubt being viewed in my high collared chiffon frock coat. The Ball, as usual, brought the political contingent, hoping to drag an oodle of respectability from associating with the chaps at the Club. The Sinn Feiners were represented by a poor sod trying to negotiate his way to the bar carrying a wooden ballot box in one hand and a toy machine gun in the other while the Fianna Fail rep was easy to spot in his multi-pocketed corduroy suit with stuffed brown envelopes stuck to every part of the clothing. Fine Gael was clear for everyone to see by a man pretending to be their leader “End-of-Kenny” by dressing up in the form of a Giant Snake while Labour were no doubt there as but as in reality, no one took any notice of them. My heart did go out to the Independent Td who could not afford a costume but just stood in the corner of the room on his own and I did contemplate buying him a drink until I got a hold of myself, carried away as I often do at such festive gatherings.

It was just then as I raised my newly waxed eyebrow suggestively as Princess Leia, that Spike Righteous arrived in his full lycra cycling outfit, his face covered in scratches and blood and poking out from the spokes of a wheel which seemed to have been rammed over his head. “Good God Spike” I bellowed “this is supposed to be a costume party….couldn’t you have worn something new for once or are you pretending to be a scene from some cycling horror movie starring Stephen Roche that no one has seen”. “No Thackeray” he gasped, blood dripping from his mangled nose “I was on my way home to change and some idiot dressed as a Giant Snake ploughed into me in a Mercedes saloon”. “Oh well…that would be Fine Gael” I mused “you wont get any compo out of them but you never know….they’ll promise anything now in election year….just don’t hold your breath waiting to get it”. Spike, leaning up against the bar sighed heavily “I suppose its my own fault really… its the bicycle shorts were the problem Thackeray…too tight round the genital area…caused me to swerve violently…I knew I shouldn’t have bought the Lidl ones for €2….just should have bit the bullet and splashed out the extra €1.50 for the Aldi ones”. “I doubt if the elasticity of the spiders web in your wallet would have stretched that far Spike” I answered solemnly, while giving the nod to Tracey Man-Barmaid to get us two pints of Giggle Juice.

“Where’s ‘Biffo the Garda’…I thought he’d be here by now” Spike asked, looking left to right as far as the wheel round his neck would allow. “I’ve no idea…I’ve been drinking brandy’s on his tab all night waiting for him” I replied. Just then a very large man swaggered his way to the bar, wearing trousers not last worn since his Communion, a pair of old FCA boots, a child’s white t-shirt which had rolled up over the man’s protruding belly and a German helmet. “Well Thackeray…isn’t it high time you bought me a pint” the man roared and it was only then I realised that it was indeed Biffo. “Good God man…what on earth are you wearing” I asked, shuffling away in case I was seen with him “I thought you would have come as one of the members of The Muppet Show Biffo…far more in keeping with your profession”. “Well actually I thought coming as a storm trooper would be more apt on this occasion” Biffo answered proudly. “More like a gentle breeze” Spike piped in with a giggle. “Indeed Spike…more like an extra from the Blue Oyster Bar actually…my word man, what were you thinking…you’re a lifetime member Biffo” I said shaking my head in disbelief. “Well what are you supposed to be Thackeray…a Christmas Fairy” he answered with a sneer. “I am Count Dracula…obviously Biffo…and as everyone knows the Count was a Charted Accountant…like myself…renowned for his mathematical genius and way with the ladies” I replied, raising my chin and eyebrow at the same time. “Fits the profession alright…bloodsucking vampire” Biffo shouted angrily and I was just about to reply when Billy Crysal, the energy therapist interrupted me. “Well chaps…how goes it…I’ve just been making a packet as Septic Peig the medium….told all the politicians they’d win the election at a nifty a go” he said, rubbing two crystals together in his palms. “I’m surprised the Count here isn’t in on that fiddle” Biffo said, pointing indignantly at me. Looking at Biffo with a curled lip I spied my opportunity. “Billy Crystal…you’re a man of the world and has seen a thing or two in this world or the next…what do you think Biffo here has come as?” I asked, a smile appearing on my other curled lip. Billy Crystal eyed Biffo up, from the splitting trousers to the belly top t-shirt, a look of horror appearing on his face. “Im not quite sure how to answer that Thackeray…I’m not sure I can put it into words” he answered, his face going white. “I’ll help you out Billy…Biffo here has been in costume for quite some time…his whole life as it happens and now he has finally worked up the courage to come as himself…Biffo is a Rent Boy….by profession” I answered, my fangs sparkling in delight. “And by inclination” Spike added eagerly, his honesty evident in his blank open face. Biffo, his face contorting in rage was only able to splurt out the words “Insolent Cur” before we all guffawed. Halloween Ball…still it seemed a good idea at the time….

 

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Why does it always rain on me….

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“Good God Thackeray….where you have you been….you’re like a mahogany prune”

Phil "The Hulk" Hogan venomously denied eating genetically modified foods

Phil “The Hulk” Hogan venomously denied eating genetically modified foods

Spike Righteous gasped as he saw me saunter into the rugby club last night wearing my Man from Del Monte silk white suit. “Jealousy Spike will cost you a round” I replied flicking my Fedora hat with a flourish. “I’ve just got back from the Bahamas after a hard week with the other Irish Water Consultants” I mused, nodding at Tracey man barmaid to bring me my favourite post-holiday cocktail…”The Corpse Reviver”. “How on earth are YOU qualified to be a consultant for Irish Water….you’ve never drank water in your life?” Spike retorted with an injustice red colouring his face. “Well firstly Spike…as you know I am a Chartered Accountant…and therefore by divine right am entitled to be involved in any deal where oodles of cash are to be made….that’s just the law…..Secondly I am a man….and Thirdly….” I was about to continue before I was rudely interrupted by Tracey. “Your COCKTAIL is €8.50” she barked in some foreign accent she learned down at The English market aka car boot sale for wannabe toffs. “Biffo will be in shortly…and as you know… last in first to pay” I replied handing her the cocktail umbrella “now hold that over your head Tracey….it’ll keep your brain dry in the rain”. “You were saying…you were saying” Spike shouted, his eyeballs squinting now from the glint of my gold cufflinks with the UISCE na h’EIREANN lettering. “Yes Spike….my sincere apologies” I sighed “THIRDLY….I went to school with Phil The HULK Hogan….long before he was Minister for Septic Tanks or European Commissioner for Silage Pits”. Spike hands began to shake uncontrollably. “You mean to say that YOU were made an Irish Consultant because you went to school with The HULK” he screamed in a pitch not heard since the Leinster boys came to play us. “School tie Spike….school tie….what do you think the fees are for?” I said raising my eyes in surprise.

Just then Biffo “The Gard” Boyle galloped his way through the door and up to the bar, his bulbous face contorted in rage. “My God Biffo….have you been trying to count how many doughnuts you ate this week again….I warned you about this before” I stated, patting him on his shoulder “it does you no good…all you need to know is that it would feed a small African nation for a month or Roscommoners for a week”. “Those bastards” he shouted, gripping the handrail in temper “those bastard Traffic Corps just fined me for having no tax on the motor….and me a Gard” he roared “they’re nothing short of the Gestapo”. Spike who was still in a trance from my explanation suddenly shook himself “You mean like the Gestapo who are protecting the Government by clattering the bejesus out of anyone stopping the water meters….you mean like those Gestapo bastards Biffo”. “Now now” I interjected when I saw Biffo reach for his truncheon “lets all calm down and have pint of Giggle Juice…now Biffo what are you having?. He relaxed his hand on the truncheon, slipping on his knuckleduster instead “I better have a water…those feckers will probably bag me on the way home”. “At last a cheap round…Tracey…a pint of your finest water on the rocks for Biffo here…and a Fanta and a packet of crisps for Spike….don’t give him anymore Lucozade…you know he can’t handle it” I said scoldingly. Tracey slammed the pint of water on the table with her one good hand, a curious glint from her false eye “That’ll be €4.50 Thackeray…the ice cubes are an extra 50 cent each”. Irish Water….still it seemed like a good idea at the time….

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It started with a kiss….never knew it would come to this

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I'm dreadfully sorry Agatha....but after that kiss I simply can't marry you....it's not me it's you...

I’m dreadfully sorry Agatha….but after that kiss I simply can’t marry you….it’s not me it’s you…

“Are you feeling okay Thackeray” my chum Spike Righteous politely asked me as he saw me sneezing on my way to the bar. “I’m quite alright Spike thank you” I answered, beckoning Tracey man-barmaid to give me a hot toddy “ it’s just a dose of handsomeness….I’ve suffered from it all my life I’m afraid”. “I don’t think I’ve ever got that I’m glad to say” Spike said touching the marble counter with his head “and touch wood I never will”. “I’m pretty sure you’re safe Spike” I smiled “as for Biffo here…I think his family are genetically immune from ever contracting it”. Biffo who was playing hopscotch on his own at the other end of the bar, reacted in his usual manner when hearing his name taken in vain “Me…what….no…definitely not me”. “I rest my case….so Spike anything interesting in the propaganda newspapers?” I asked throwing back my whiskey with a flourish. “Well of course there are the usual ramblings from the politicians about the budget” Spike answered, leafing through his favourite daily newspaper “The Biased Independent”. “More for them and less for us” I mused ordering two more rounds on Biffo’s tab after I had seen him collapse whilst endeavouring a tricky manoeuvre in hopscotch that involved standing on one foot. “That pretty much sums it up Thackeray” Spike nodded “oh look here…scientists at Oxford have proven that… kissing… is a means of accessing compatibility between men and women”. “Only a scientist would come up with that…locked away with their lab rats for friends….proving what everyone else knows from when they were born” I scoffed. “That’s certainly true” said Tracey man-barmaid who was listening to our conversation “I’ve certainly kissed a few frogs in my life….you escaped though Thackeray…..there’s only so low I could go”. “Paid them did you” I retorted crossly “I’m sure they’re receiving counselling after that experience….now be off with you”. “It says here that the more attractive the person is…..the more picky they are about which partner they’ll settle down with” Spike read, shaking his head in awe. “Geniuses those chaps at Oxford are….that’s exactly why I haven’t been able to settle down with the right kind of woman” I said smacking my lips “I’m simply too attractive….and therefore too picky”. “My wife was the first person I ever kissed” Spike said, with a faraway gaze, fondly remembering the moment. “Need I say more Righteous….need I say more” I guffawed. The art of kissing….still it seemed like a good idea at the time….

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Red red Wine…go to my head….make me forget

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Rubbish...This Dáil Show is gone to the dogs....the actors are drunk I tell you

Rubbish…This Dáil Show is gone to the dogs….the actors are drunk I tell you

“The Dáil want to have their own brand of House wine” my chum Spike Righteous read from the newspaper down in the club yesterday evening “well I for one am glad that our leaders have their priorities right….they’re not shopping at Lidl’s….buy Irish that’s what I say”. “I think you may be missing the point Righteous” I intervened, lighting up one of my Monte Cristo no.4’s “don’t you think there are more pressing matters at hand….mass emigration….our economy in hibernation….bank evictions….of course the Dáil having its own brand of wine has to be top of the list”. “But don’t you see Thackeray” Biffo The Garda Boyle butted in “if our rulers the poor misfortunes…are up all night in the Dáil drinking….so they can make important decisions concerning the entire citizens of the State….then I think they should at least be drinking a House Red”.  “It will be good for tourism they say” Spike added, nodding his head. “”Well the Dáil is obviously a Mecca for tourism isn’t it Spike” I said throwing back a glass of our club’s own brand of wine called Toxic “I mean where else in the world can tourists go to see political leaders half canned by 3.30 in the afternoon….I mean it’s better than going to the theatre….it’s like a live version of the Muppet Show”. “What will they call it….that’s what I’d like to know” Spike said scratching his chin in bewilderment. “Maybe they’ll call the House Red…Quiff d’enda Kenny” I answered quickly “that’s guaranteed to make you throw up after one glass”. “I suppose they wont be calling one after our Minister for Injustice” Biffo added “a glass of Shatter wouldn’t inspire you much”. “Aptly named though Biffo my chum” I tutted “no doubt our Minister for Propaganda….Goebbels Rabbitte….will be holding a launch of the new red wine or perhaps in his case diluted red…. I can see it now…..sitting at the Dáil Bar at 5am….can I have a small Rabbitte….and a Gilmore shandy for the wife”. “Where will they make it….I don’t know of any vineyards in Ireland” Spike asked scratching the other side of his head. “Oh Enda’s been given a vineyard in France for being such a good boy in Brussels….I heard he’s going to call the first batch…Merkel Je T’aime….” I guffawed.  Dáil wine….still it seemed like a good idea at the time….

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The winner takes it all….

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Look Dorothy I may have had some affairs in my time and stolen all your inheritance but consider your soul in all this....if we get a divorce you can't get communion anymore

Look Dorothy I may have had some affairs in my time and spent all your inheritance but consider your soul in all this….if we get a divorce you can’t get communion anymore

“Did you know Thackeray now that you’re divorced you’re not allowed receive Holy Communion” Spike Righteous said with alarm in his voice as he read from the paper. “Why ever not?” I demanded, my face going scarlet. “Because you’re one of the unclean” Biffo “The Garda” Boyle replied with relish. “He’s right Thackeray…..unless you apologise sincerely for your sin of divorce The Catholic Church says there’s no bread for you” Spike replied, smacking his lips in delight. “Well they can bloody well keep their wafers then….I wont go hungry without them” I answered crossly “and I wont be paying for Fr Michael’s new BMW this year either….or his mansion….see how he likes that”. “Now now Thackeray” Biffo interrupted calmly “don’t be like that….just because you sinned against God….doesn’t mean that you are exempt from paying the Easter and Christmas dues….Church Law is very specific on money related matters…..it’s like the property tax”. “Of course you could have your marriage annulled” Spike suggested raising his eyebrow “then you could have as many wafers as you want I reckon”. “I’ve always liked annulments” Biffo said, shaking his head “the idea that it just simply never happened….250 guests….U2 playing as wedding band….best men…bridesmaids….wedding pictures….but no….get an annulment and it was all a figment of everyone’s imagination”. “How do I get one of those then Righteous?” I asked, frustration now in my voice “I mean its unlikely I’ll get to be Chairman of the club this year if I’m not seen in the front row every Sunday sticking out my tongue for the cream crackers…I mean there’s a lot at stake here”.

“Well you could say that the marriage was never consummated” Spike said solemnly “then that would be grounds for an annulment”. “But I have three children goddammit”  I answered in exasperation “ why even Turlough is the very spit of me except I’m more debonair and sophisticated …obviously”. “You could try and say it was an immaculate conception” Biffo interjected helpfully “it’s worked before you know”. “You’ll never get away with it” Spike said shaking his head “if there was only one child you might…but three is just pushing it too far….you’ll just have to go for the other option”. “What other option” I shouted in surprise. “A brown envelope” Biffo and Spike answered together. “Do you mean to say it’s simply a matter of handing over a thick envelope just like I did at the Galway races with Bertie so I could get planning permission for that housing estate?” I asked in awe. “Well no Thackeray….Bertie won that on a horse remember” Biffo said, winking and nodding at the same time. “Yes…well the Church says that they can offer a special dispensation in particular cases…ie for an undisclosed sizeable sum and the matter will be cleaned up nicely” Spike said shrugging his shoulders. “You’ll have to spend some time in Limbo for your sins though” Biffo said “you can start paying for it now by getting a round in. “No….Limbo doesn’t exist anymore” Spike interrupted “they got rid of that….no money in it apparently”. “Get your own pint in then Biffo…you ungrateful cur….but I’ll have a mass said for you Spike for all your advice” I said patting him on the shoulder. “That’ll cost you €40 to have one of those done Thackeray….I’d rather have the pint instead” Spike said calling over Tracey man-barmaid. “I’m beginning to think this whole church thing is a money racket….still I wonder could they annul my bank debt if I threw in a few extra quid” I said in wonderment. “The Lord works in mysterious ways Thackeray” Biffo said with a smile “and while you’re at it why don’t you ask them to do that party trick of turning water into wine” and we all guffawed. Annulments…still it seemed like a good idea at the time…

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Don’t worry…..be happy

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The home of "Jolly" Jack Murphy and his wife "Laughing" Linda was the place to be in Roscommon of a Saturday night.

The home of “Jolly” Jack Murphy and his wife “Laughing” Linda was the place to be in Roscommon of a Saturday night.

“What on earth are you reading?” I asked Spike Righteous crossly, down in the club yesterday evening “its damned rude you know not to drink your brandy like a gentleman when its bought for you”. “But I bought my own Thackeray” Spike answered, his head still engrossed in his book “and yours too I’ll have you know”. “No reason to make a song and dance about it” I replied curtly, tipping the ash from my Monte Cristo no.4 on his shoes “well what drivel is it that you are reading that has you so consumed….the fictional story of weapons of mass destruction….the DIY manual of how to fix an electoral voting machine costing €50 million that doesn’t work ….or perhaps the self-help guide for grossly incompetent Taoiseach’s”. “None of the aforementioned I’m afraid Thackeray” Spike answered with a sigh “though they all sound very interesting….no…I’m reading the new novel by Diarmuid Hudner called “Im Happy Now.Com”….and it’s totally invigorating I can tell you”. “Well Im happy for him…fair play to him” Biffo “The Garda” Boyle said, taking a sip from his Giggle Juice “sure if he wasn’t happy before at least the cratur is now”. “So why does he have to tell everyone about it” I said irritably “thats writers for you….they think everyone cares whether they’re happy or not…well I don’t” I said ordering a round on Spike in disgust.

“That’s not what the book is about actually Thackeray” Spike intervened whilst at the same time nodding to Tracey man-barmaid to look to Biffo to pay for the round “he tells the story of how three young people who were experiencing different problems learnt how to find happiness in their lives”. “Well that’s just typical isn’t it” I said slamming my hand on the counter for effect “going around telling everyone how to be happy….damn nerve…who does he think he is ….Jehovah….what all this happiness lark about anyway”. “It’s very un-Irish alright” Biffo said sombrely “everyone knows that Irish people can’t be happy…..it’s all England’s fault for poisoning the spuds you know….if they’d just left well enough alone shure we’d be laughin”. “But the English are gone Biffo” Spike said pointing a finger at him. “Gone but not forgotten Righteous” Biffo answered angrily “I can never ate a British Queen without weeping”. “Well I think we should take this Hudner chappy out and give him a damn good thrashing…we’ll see how happy he is then” I said gulping back Biffo’s brandy while he cried about old Ireland. “But the book is about anti-bullying Thackeray….violence and intimidation is not the way to happiness” Spike said with a heavy sigh. “Well a good thrashing never hurt anyone….happened to me in school and look at me….a very well adjusted member of society” I said sticking out my chin. “That’s open to interpretation Thackeray” Biffo remarked shaking his head. “Hudner says that happiness is a conscious decision you make….it must be true because it’s selling out in Eason’s and Waterstones” Spike said shrugging his shoulders “and they’re gone mad for it in the States”. “Hudner bedamned….I’ll make my own decisions” I shouted drinking Spike’s Tequila Sunrise with a flourish “I’m an Irishman and a patriot and if that means making the decision to be unhappy for the rest of my days then so be it”. Being happy….still it seemed like a good idea at the time….

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Don’t Go….don’t leave me now now now….

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When Christopher Columbus landed in Kerry by mistake and  met the natives, it didn't take him long to figure out he had not discovered the New World

When Christopher Columbus met the natives after he landed in Kerry by mistake, it didn’t take him long to figure out he had not discovered the New World

“He’s never been right after the trouble he had with the goureens” Biffo said sadly about our mutual friend “Killarney Jonah”. “That’s unfortunate….he never had any luck” I replied with a sigh. “That sounds painful” interrupted Spike Righteous who had just walked in on our conversation “I wouldn’t like that to happen to me now”. “What on earth are you talking about Righteous?” I asked, raising a disapproving eyebrow at him. “Getting a kick in the goureens….I’d say you wouldn’t be right after that for a month” he replied ordering a Giggle Juice for himself. “A goureen….my buffoon of a friend… is an endangered fish that lives in one of the lakes of Killarney” I said, shaking my head in disbelief “and our friend Killarney Jonah….who never caught a fish in his life….is now being fined €5000….after a kamikaze goureen leaped into his boat and died while he was out rowing on the lake….that’ll cost you a round Spike”. “Jaysus Thackeray….he’s got about as much luck as me” Spike answered ordering two more Giggle Juices on Biffo’s tab “we could have been brothers”. “What are you rambling on about now man” Biffo asked crossly “you’re not making any sense….have you been eating the blue smarties again….you know they don’t agree with you”.“ Look….didn’t you hear the news today….there’s a person emigrating from Ireland every six minutes” he said, burying his head in his hands “and  since there is 60 people in our office….ten of us will probably be gone in the next hour…..do the math Biffo…do the math”. “Jesus wept” Biffo replied, guffawing loudly. “Laugh away chaps….laugh away…..but it’s like the advert for the National Lottery…..it could be you…..this could be one of the last drinks I have in the club” Spike answered, bordering on tears. “Well you better get a couple of more rounds in then before you go” I said, rushing to the bar and calling over Tracey man-barmaid “Goddammit…hurry yourself Tracey….Spike has less than an hour to get us uproariously drunk….3 brandy doubles, 3 tequilas, 3 jaeger bombs for starters…and make sure Spike pays his tab before he goes…because I won’t be landed with it”.

“Don’t worry yourself Spike” Biffo answered, slapping him on the shoulder “you have to do an IQ test to get into most country’s now….believe me you’re safe a while yet”. “Don’t be such a damn fool Biffo” I shouted angrily “at least wait until he’s got us plastered before you break the news to him”. “Thank you so much Biffo…I hadn’t thought about that….that’s a weight off my knees I can tell you….another round for Biffo Tracey….forget Thackeray….he’s a piranha goureen” Spike said with relief. “On a more serious note chaps” I said, leaning against the bar after throwing back the entire first round on my own before the others realised “I think it actually is the emigrant boat for me….it’s been on my mind for a good while now”. “But why Thackeray….why I ask you” Spike said pleadingly. “There’s nothing here anymore for a man of my obvious talents” I said, wiping a crocodile tear from my eye “what with corrupt politicians….incompetent state institutions….sorry Biffo I nearly forgot you were here…..GROSS incompetence in regards to the Guards….and an overwhelming lack of morality in the country….it’s just nowhere for a gentleman”. “But Thackeray….I thought that’s exactly the environment where someone of your talents would thrive in” Biffo said with genuine astonishment “if you can’t make it here….you can’t make it anywhere”. “Don’t try and change his mind Biffo” Tracey screamed out loud “if he wants to go….let him go….it must be Christmas” she said beginning to sing the Christmas carol “Joy to the World”. “But isn’t there age restrictions on getting into countries now Thackeray…..they might not take you” Spike said with hope in his voice. “What on earth do you mean?” I exclaimed “how dare you….I’d be like Christopher Columbus bringing civilisation to the heathens….why any country would welcome me with open arms”. “Well it would make it easier for you to fleece them certainly” Biffo said, nodding in agreement. “Call yourselves my friends….you’re insolent cads one and all…..you’ll miss me when I’m gone I tell you” I said contemptuously. Staying in Ireland…still it seemed like a good idea at the time…

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Send in the clowns…

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The Minister for Justice is flat out these days writing the sequel to his first erotic novel

The Minister for Justice is flat out these days writing the sequel to his first erotic novel

Keira Knightly paid €40,000 for a Rolex for her husband” Spike read from the newspaper on his lap “sure you could never take that out in public”. “I think the Taoiseach got one of them….his office claimed €3.5 million in expenses in the last six months….he probably got one for all the Ministers and got a discount” I said taking a sip of my Giggle Juice. “He’ll probably say he saved the country money” Biffo added “and got one thrown in for free….if he’s cute he’ll give one to Merkel….she might put a word in for that new job he’s after in Europe” Biffo added knowledgeably. “No cuter hoor” Spike muttered under his breath reading more of the newspaper. “Anything else interesting Spike?” I asked, tipping the ash from my Monte Cristo no.4 on his coat. “Well actually….it says here that an artist in Russia has fled the country in fear after he painted a picture of the Russian Prime Minister Putin in women’s clothes” he said with a laugh. “He’s probably on his way here to paint the Ministers in the Dail drinking all night and grabbing women by the ass” Biffo guffawed. “Apparently Russian Law prohibits anyone from insulting State Authorities” Spike continued, shaking his head. “He’d be grand here…sure we’re very open-minded and cultured” I said with gusto “doesn’t our Minister for Justice write erotic novels and no one bats an eye”. “Mind you now….that Russian law sounds every bit like our law that prevents broadcasters from giving an opinion against the government….they’re only allowed to report it” Biffo The Guard said suspiciously “they snaked that one in without anyone noticing”. “Ah yes….that was our Minister for Propaganda…..Goebbels Rabbitte” I said tutting “I’d say he’s confused whether he’s a Redshirt or a Blueshirt the misfortune”.

“There’s a lot of confusion in this country….poor old Brian Cowen said they never had a Plan B for when the recession hit” Spike said sadly. “That’s assuming he had a Plan A” Biffo snorted “ we get everything wrong here….our first drive by shooting was done on a bicycle and he shot himself first…you’d have to laugh only its all true”. “He probably got a grant for the bike from the Green Party….in fairness to the Greens….if there’s going to be a shooting…by God they’ll try and make it an environmentally friendly one” I said carelessly blowing smoke at Spike. “Yeah it’s called their….Bike to Work Scheme” Biffo said with a guffaw. Competent politicians….still it seemed like a good idea at the time…

 

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Run rabbit run…oh go away, go away, go away…

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The Minister for Communications was worn out after checking caves for television

The Minister for Communications was worn out after checking caves across Ireland for televisions

“Pat Rabbitte has announced that Ireland is free of cavemen” Biffo Boyle read from the newspaper down in the club yesterday “the former cavemen told him I suppose since….he is the Minister for Communications….that their cavemen days are over”. “I’m not so confident about that” I said cautiously “I know that Mayo where Rabbitte comes from… most of the people still live in caves”. “Well he’s saying here that even if they do live in a cave, they’ll still be charged a broadcasting charge for the use of a television” Biffo said, shaking his head “that seems a bit harsh now”. “I suppose with a name like Rabbitte…he’s been down every hole and cave in the country checking to make sure” Spike Righteous added and we all nodded in agreement. “Isn’t it great though that our Minister for Communications is broadcasting to the world that Ireland is free of cavemen….that’s just the type of media exposure we need to encourage foreign investment” I said matter of factly “come to Ireland….we’ve only just emerged from caves….our banks have fleeced the country….our former Taoiseach never had a bank account and escaped paying tax because he said he won it on a horse….our Minister for the Gaeltacht can’t speak Irish….and our Minister for Small Business is bankrupt….sure they’ll be queuing up to invest”. “I reckon they must think that the boom happened because when we came out of the caves we couldn’t stop ourselves building” Biffo said, taking a swig of his snakebite in exasperation “lost the run of ourselves so we did… building everywhere we saw a patch of grass….built 150,000 houses we didn’t need just because we could….just for the hell of it”.

“I don’t own a television” Spike announced proudly “I can’t bear listening to them….and I don’t live in a cave….do I still have to pay the charge?”. “Well according to the Rabbitte Man – the Caveman Seeker….yes you do…cos you have such brilliant internet and mobile coverage…that you’ll be watching television on that” Biffo answered lamentably. “Did you not hear Spike” I asked in mock surprise “Ireland has 97% broadband coverage….according to our Minister for Communications that is”. “Then why do I have to get satellite broadband?” he asked “and why can’t I get any coverage on my phone….sure the most common phrase on the phone in Ireland is….can you hear me now”. “Ah that’s because the 97% coverage is in the cities and the 3% is spread out amongst the rest of the country where nearly half the population live” I said in wonderment. “Im very confused now…if I’m paying for my internet myself…and I’m paying for my mobile myself….then why am I paying for broadcasting?” Spike asked, scratching his head. “Oh that’s because The Rabbitte isn’t paying for his internet or mobile….that comes under expenses…..and you have to pay for that…and all Irish politicians are paid more than any politicians in Europe….sure aren’t they worth every penny” I guffawed “we’re the laughing stock of the Western World”. “There’s something wrong here lads” Biffo said shaking his head “when the President of the United States who looks after 317 million people is paid less than Enda Kenny who can’t manage to look after 4 million….I’m not an accountant like you Thackeray….but I think the figures don’t add up”. “They certainly do not my good man….the con goes on” I said gravely. “I dunno lads” Spike said sadly “but I reckon The Rabbitte Man has forgotten his roots…maybe he needs to go back down that warren cave where he came from”. Freedom of Speech….still it seemed like a good idea at the time…

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How can I forget you….when there’s always something there to remind me

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Much to his annoyance, Seamus was often confused with tv celebrity-Pat Kenny

Much to his annoyance, Seamus was often confused with tv celebrity-Pat Kenny

“A tie belonging to John Lennon fetched over €3000” Spike Righteous read out of the newspaper yesterday evening “sure where would you be goin”. “The question is” Biffo The Guard Boyle replied whilst putting on his policeman’s hat “how do we know that it is John Lennon’s tie…..does it have his name on it…..is it John Lennon from The Beatles….or John Lennon from Monaghan….these are the pertinent questions to be ascertained at the root of the matter ?”. “Good God Biffo….they’re actually sensible questions” I said with surprise “have you been watching NYPD Blue again to learn what a policeman does?”. “I won’t dignify that question with a response” Biffo answered with mock hurt “but they don’t call me…Inspector Morse Boyle…for nothing you know”. “That’s because they don’t call you that at all…..Inspector Gadget is more likely” I scoffed. “The woman said that John Lennon himself gave it to her” Spike interjected, reading further down the page. “Well that’s that so….case closed” Biffo answered, slapping the table confidently. “Well with that line of baffling reasoning….what if I put it to you that I have a bra belonging to Liz Hurley Biffo…..would you believe me?” I asked, lighting up one of my Monte Cristo no.4’s. “Of course not Thackeray….not for an instant” Biffo replied quickly. “But you believed that woman when she said John Lennon gave it to her with no proof whatsoever” I said, blowing smoke in his direction. “Ah yes but there are two reasons for not believing you” Biffo answered gravely “the first is that you….are an accountant and therefore lie for a living….and secondly….you would never…other than in your own mind….ever meet a girl like Liz Hurley….unless she was Liz Hurley from Kilkenny…and gave you a hurley”.

“That’s deuced ignorant of you Biffo…but I accept your point….I don’t have a bra belonging to Liz Hurley….I have one belonging to Marlyn Monroe” I said, taking a long drag of my cigar. “Of course you do….and I have a pair of boxer shorts belonging to Freddie Mercury” Biffo said with a laugh. “I believe you Biffo” Spike said, nodding his head “you were always a big Queen fan”. “I’d well believe it….as Spike said the evidence is there” I guffawed. “Of course I don’t have a pair of his shorts….how would I get a pair of his shorts” Biffo shouted crossly. “The mind boggles Biffo…the mind boggles….what you do in your spare time is your own affair of course….but you are a Guard….and your word is law….if you say you have a pair of Freddie Mercury’s shorts then who am I…a humble accountant…to argue with you….I believe Freddie God rest him…had a liking for men in uniform” I said, trying hard to hold back a smile. “I did NOT have a relationship with Freddie Mercury” Biffo shouted angrily and everyone in the club turned around in shock and horror. “I think Bill Clinton said something similar to that” Spike said, raising his eyebrow suspiciously “and he was proven wrong”. “Possession is nine tenths of the law Biffo….and since you possess his shorts….well….I’m not Ironside….but I’d say the evidence is stacking up against you old man” I said, shaking my head “what is it Hamlet said….the lady doth protest too much methinks”. “You two are impossible….I’ve had enough of this….I need a drink” Biffo muttered, turning towards the bar in disgust. “Its’ on me Biffo….especially now that your man-card has been revoked” I said with a smile and calling over Tracey the man-barmaid “Tracey get Biffo here a white wine will you”. “What would he like?” she asked in a rare show of interest. “I’m not sure” I answered sardonically “but you better make it something fruity”. Buying Celebrity merchandise….still it seemed like a good idea at the time….