Irish premier's planned invasion of UK
Hoards of slack-jawed natives turn out en masse every year for Cork’s St Patrick’s parade. And if you're there at this time of year you’ll be told through a spray of spittle, “nozz-ere azz ah purr-ade azz wood azz hours boy”. And you'll have a wonderful day on Patrick St if you like stepping over and around snarling drunks, and dodging facially challenged ladies with extremely bad dentistry.
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| Cork barman. |
These people freely let their hair down (and their underwear whenever they need to urinate) at this time of year as they celebrate who they are and their historically important ancestry.
And Ireland produces lots of wonderful persons who will, if kept at a distance, lighten your heart:
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| Kenny was confused, so he copied President Obama. |
Mr Kenny stood on a podium about two metres in front of US President Obama and, almost word for word, plagiarised the President's inaugural speech – no other European leader would have been shrewd enough to think of doing that!
Kenny, thinking of all the time and money he saved by not having to pay a speech writer, would have viewed this as being very cerebral – those columnists who ridiculed him were just jealous because they’d have never thought up such a money saving venture.
It also saved the Irish state money as the President cut short his visit by 24-hours – he didn’t cut it short because of the imbecility he was being subjected to, it was because of an ash cloud over the Bering Strait.
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| “Drunken Moron,” said Jay Leno about Brian Cowan. |
Kenny's predecessor Brian Cowan will be celebrated as the Taoiseach who did more for the Irish brewery industry than all other Irish leaders put together.
He also did sterling work in keeping Ireland in the international headlines; his greatest achievement in this regards – and a European first – was when he managed to get himself described as a “drunken moron” by Jay Leno on a United State’s talk show.
Think of the free publicity this got Ireland; who wouldn’t want to do business with a country that had such a chilled-out and relaxed leader?
And if this boozy chillaxed leader of government couldn’t convince Michael Dell to reopen his Limerick factory who could? Perhaps the answer to this might follow.
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| Mary Coughlan who’s even coarser than a pig's arse. |
Cork’s Paddy-Day marching will also memorialise Cowan’s former deputy, Mary Coughlan. This slack-jawed former Irish Deputy Prime Minister will be remembered for lots of stupefied acts; the foremost of which attained her eminence on the international stage.
When Cowan’s chillaxed performance failed to secure 1900 jobs Coughlan was sent to Texas in attempt to persuade computer tycoon Michael Dell not to close his Limerick factory – Willie O’Dea, who’s a diminutive prick from south-west Éire, went with her.
And Mary, being a true upmarket Pict, wasn’t going to sit there in Mr Dell’s Texas office and accept his intractable persona and refusal to reverse his decision (after all Ms Coughlan is of regal Oirish blood and “how dare he”). She thus had no choice but to resort to shouting, fucking and blinding; between her bursts of yells and oaths she informed Michael Dell that his name would become dirt in Ireland (and probably also that she would dislike his Facebook page and unfollow him on Twitter).
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| Willie O’Dea, the diminutive prick who accompanied Coughlan to Dell’s HQ in Texas. |
And how did this industrial magnate, this billionaire, respond to the Irish Deputy Prime Minister? The unsporting and rude git quite blatantly showed he had absolutely no respect for Irish Royalty and had her thrown out of his office.
It’s an absolute lie that Ms Coughlan shouted, as she was being dragged out the office door, “na na na na, we don’t want your auld factory anyway.” This was probably made up by some jealous expatriate Saxon in the States.
Would other European governments have the balls to deal with treacherous Americans like this?
Jack Lynch, the daddy of them all, a man who’s south-west Ireland through-and-through, will be one of the most revered in Cork City on this most special of days.
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| Jack Lynch who wanted to be
the Pict equivalent
of Genghis Khan. |
His name makes Corkonians wet their knickers and go weak at the knees, and he’s held in the highest esteem from Cork City right up the western seaboard to Letterkenny.
This man, you see, had hatched an audacious plan to invade the United Kingdom. He was going to send his grand army across the border at Newry; burn, rape and pillage anything that was Loyalist or which belonged to them, and free the Nationalists from their subservient role to British Royalists.
“Yeah begorrah! I have had enough, I’ll fucking turf the Brit cunts out of Northern Ireland; my grand army will send them whimpering. And while we’re at it we might as well go over and save the poor Scots as well.”
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| Don’t let anyone say that the Irish government or army doesn’t contain comical arseholes. |
Saxons and the like, arrogant fuckers that they are, would have sneered at Jack’s grand plan. But back in 1969 Jack and his cronies had it all worked out; nothing was left to chance, these boys wouldn’t be countenancing any stupidity.
His grand army had WWI issue rifles and a fleet of 1920's clapped-out ex-British buses to take them to the invasion point. The clapped-out buses emitted so much black smoke that the Brits guarding the border wouldn’t have known what was coming until the sputtering and choking Paddies disembarked with all muskets blazing.
The Saxon would soon learn that this was no tin-pot army, that these tales about Irish soldiers, on UN peace-keeping duties, having a fondness for pederasty and children might be untrue.
It would have been a cake-walk, in a matter of days Jack’s gallant army would be drumming its way into Belfast (please don't sneer and make comparisons with Cuba conquering Florida).
And within weeks Jack’s 1920’s buses might have been rolling up Scottish beaches on their way to liberate Glasgow.
There’s so many things to be proud of on St Patrick’s day ...
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