Tuesday, December 21, 2010

An Irish Christmas Tale

It was Christmas Eve. A soft light entered the room like a tip-toeing sex beast as a winter symphony of snow, throwing itself against the window, distant sleigh bells and the tortured screams of somebody being bottled, played out. The air was filled with festive scents. Mince Pies fresh from the oven sent their delicious aroma around the house like a fast-spreading gas leak, teasing as they did, every sleeping and twitching nose. It wouldn’t be long until Santa arrived thought nobody in particular as they snuggled even closer to their various warm bedfellows. Mum held Dad. Little Jenny held her teddy. Fr Murphy held Bobby. It was night of magic, a night of love and a stern warning to Bobby not to wear a mini-skirt to mass ever again.

The snow was getting heavier as Christmas Eve gave way to Christmas Day. Children slept with smiles on their faces (except maybe Bobby) as they dreamt, imagining they could hear Rudolph trotting about proudly on the roof. Some probably weren’t dreaming, it could indeed have been Rudolph up there, but most likely it was a someone from the bank coming to repossess the house or at the very least, one of their debt stricken parents looking for a good height from which to hang a noose. It was a time of peace, of hope and a stern warning to little Bobby to go a little easy on the eye make-up at the Parish Fair next time.

But of course, for every happy Christmas and every smiling child there are some unhappy Christmases and not very smiley children doing frowns. For every Mince Pie there’s a ‘Bin Pie’, which is just stuff from a bin like old paper and potato peel and there’s usually no pastry, just like soup, but there’s no soup either. For every Rudolph there’s the family dog crudely made up to look like a reindeer and parading around in a dignity crushing attempt to brighten up your sorry little holiday period. And for every Santa there’s no Santa. Children around the country waking up to nothing. No presents, no food, and in Bobby's case, no underpants.

Don’t forget the true spirit of Christmas. Brought to you by Fianna Fail and the Irish Catholic Church.

Merry Christmas.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Snow Hope

Did you know that in Russia and China (and probably loads of other sinister places that we sometimes see popping up on the news between interviews with Brian Lenihan and pictures of empty and decaying housing estates) they do this funny thing with the weather whenever there’s a really special event on; they change it.

It’s true. I know it for a fact cause I read somewhere on the web that China regularly fire some sort of chemical into the sky that actually disperses the clouds and allows them to continue violating human rights in public, without risk of getting a bit wet. I’ll bet Guantanamo Bay has the least precipitation of anywhere in the world too. I mean, when you’re being really unsympathetically buggered by a frothy marine from Omaha, getting your hair wet would literally add too much insult to injury. It’s a well known fact, according to some sketchy internet information I found on some message board somewhere that the Russians developed the stuff in order to ensure military parades and the like went off without even a hint of drizzle. And I’m sure Boris Yeltzin's infamous BBQ’s were equally successful in warding off the inclemency’s of the weather too.

So, despite the resounding evidence that our leaders are barely capable of spelling ‘cloud’, I put it to you, yes you there reading this, that we’ve been engaged in a bit of weather manipulation too. I mean it makes perfect sense, in an Irish way. And, although I haven’t yet thought this through, I reckon there’s precedent in our history as well, which I will come back too after I’ve written this next bit. But yeah, think about the last few months. You don’t need me to tell you, but if you’ve just got off the bus from Roscommon, let’s just say that the country went broke, needed to bailout the banks, took a big huge loan from the EU, IMF and some other nice countries and are now tied almost rigidly to a fixed 5 years of fiscal dictatorship, if you catch my ‘drift’. So, the heat in the kitchen is getting really hot, and the entire country are knocking at the window shouting ‘turn it down, it’s roasting’ and stuff and what’s the best way to deal with that? Yes, you’ve guessed it. Some advanced weather modification. Hence, we’ve all been turned from angry clenched-fisted peasants to grinning snow jockeys, flapping about with snowmen whilst the pricks that ruined the country are getting their passports stamped.

Now, I’m pretty sure that some outside help was required here. I doubt Batt O’Keefe is an expert in weather changing, although I have heard that he once conducted a rain dance in Ballincollig that locals say might have worked 'where it not for the nudity and gross acts of animal bothering’, so I’m pretty sure some top cloud making guru was flown in at great expense and told to produce the snowy goods.

Some people will say the usual ‘isn’t it great to have something to cheer us up’ and ‘with all this negativity, maybe this will help us forget our problems’ and in a way, they’d be total fuckwits for doing so. Forgetting about these problems is the worst thing we can do, we need to remember, because if you forget that you’re broke and finished and the contents of your fridge are worth more than your house you could find yourself in some very embarrassing situations. Like at an auction after bidding and winning on a Picasso or at the till in Tesco with a hundred thousand euro worth of groceries.

It’s snow joke people, it’s snow joke.

Monday, November 22, 2010

TV3 Bailout Special

7 AM - Morning has broken, so is this Country - Mark Cagney greets the nation like only he can (gimp suit) in this special recession edition of the deeply unpopular and offensive breakfast show. Today Chef Neven McGuire cooks a ‘bailout breakfast’ of steamed newspaper and old twigs whilst music is provided by the band from the Titanic.

10 AM - How cheap is your house? - We meet a Dublin family who had it all; A beautiful 6 bed in Gorey which was just 2.5 hours from work, a shop and crèche that was literally only three bus rides away and a mortgage that was four times their monthly wage, and then lost it all when they realized what a pair of fuckwits they were.

11 AM - Varadkar! - Lively magazine show where ‘our’ Leo invites feuding families on the show to sort out their problems, live on air. Today chaos abounds after Leo removes his trousers to prove a point and Joan Burton continually makes fog-horn noises from the crowd.

12 PM - From Boom to Bust - We look at the effect of large explosions on women’s breasts. Sponsored by nobody.

1 PM - Lunchtime - Badly needed lunch for the employees of TV3; all four of them will be back at two after a recession busting 'hang sang and cuppa cha' in the TV3 'canteen' (bus shelter on Ballymount Rd) with loads of really shit news and wrong weather.

2 PM - Merkels about! - Angela Merkel and her candid camera continue to surprise unsuspecting members of the public with the usual hilarious results. In this episode she sneaks up on Taoiseach Brian Cowen as he showers, rather surprisingly likes what she sees and then makes a particularly sordid sex tape.

3 PM - Ant and Dec on... The Irish Debt crisis - Sobering chat from the two Geordies on how Ireland got caught up in a property bubble, what it needs to do to repair the economy and why a good old gunking and a fiddle about in a bucket of worms can help us all forget about our problems.

4 PM - Noonan’s Nuggets - Sinister voiced Michael Noonan reads from his collection of horrific tales, in his horrifically sinister tale telling voice. Tonight he terrifies us with the spookily titled 'Enda’s naked tribal dancing' and 'Brutons quivering buttocks'. Sponsored by Milk.

5 PM - Take Me Out! - Special recession edition of the hit dating show. Tonight a member of the public gets a chance to 'take out' one of 15 of Irelands 'hottest' politicians, with a semi-automatic shotgun and/or hammer.

6 PM - Oh Vincent - Family sitcom starring Vincent Browne - Tonight Vincent brings a girl home to meet his parents but after a lengthy standoff with the Gardai he is forced to release her safely, but he later cooks a lasagna and eats it.

6.30 PM - Hammered! - Special crisis episode of the Northern Comedy: Tonight: Ollies mortgage worries ease slightly after he his killed by loyalists outside the community centre whilst on the ‘other side’ Marty’s choice of Halloween costume (Provo uniform) goes down badly at the Orange Order get together, not least because Halloween was last month, but mostly because they kill him stone dead.

7 PM - Me so Harney - Fly on the wall documentary that follows the Minister for Health Mary Harney as she goes about her daily business. Tonight a revolving door causes a major scare and Mary is pelted with eggs after an oireachtas meeting leaving her bemoaning the lack of bread in the ministerial car for ‘eggy soldiers'

8 PM - Kilmore - He won't cut welfare, but he might slash your face. The thriller that has everyone talking continues as our anti-hero Eamon ‘Kilmore’ continues his murderous rampage across Ireland. Tonight a bingo hall mourns the loss of its caller and last years 'full house' champion after foolishly agreeing to a labour party fundraiser hosted by, you’ve guessed it.

9PM – FILM Anglo-Grinder – Disturbing horror about a group of grotesque pin-striped fat-cats who lure innocent victims into their lairs by offering free money before quickly launching themselves at them and sucking their blood, eating their faces and playing Frisbee with bits of their corpses before disappearing to somewhere where they blend in, in other words, the USA. (2009, Irish Taxpayer)

11 PM - Ghost Estate - Horror starring Thelma Mansfield who attempts to battle demons when her house doesn't simply get re-possessed, it gets possessed!! wooo-oooo.

12 MIDNIGHT – TV3 ORGY – seedy orgy in the usual place guys. Someone make sure the doors are locked to keep Halligan out. (EDIT – make sure you DO NOT somehow accidentally put this in the TV listings guys. ED)