Archive for January, 2015

Man to be Deported from Ireland for Not Liking ‘Mrs Brown’s Boys’

Wednesday, January 28th, 2015

Mrs. Doubtfire.

A 47-year-old hedge fund manager faces being deported from Ireland, due, he claims, to the fact that he doesn’t enjoy popular television show, ‘Mrs. Brown’s Boys’. Pablo Dominguez-Burke (he’d an ‘aunt’ from Bolivia) from Finglas, north Dublin, says that it was an off-the-cuff remark in an elevator at work that set off a chain of events, leading to a letter from the immigration services, requesting that he call to their offices for an urgent meeting regarding his Irish citizenship, or as Pablo worded it; ‘About gettin’ arsed out of the bleedin’ country again, to be sure, so I am’.

Speaking with The Heraldy Press, Pablo said; ‘I was in the lift at work, when one of the cleaners said to his colleague, and, I can’t do the accent, but sure, yiz’ll be writin’ this anyway, so you won’t be able to tell the accent so it doesn’t matter, but he said; “Ah Jayziz, did yeh see ‘Mrs. Brown’s Boys’ last night? Wasn’t it brilliant the way she was carryin’ on and doing things that were really funny and all?’ I then merely tutted and rolled my eyes, though that was in relation to the lift’s doors not closing quickly enough, not a reflection on the cleaner’s choice in Irish comedy”.

A reformed cat-burglar with 83 previous convictions, Pablo mended his ways to go on to study chartered accountancy at ‘some college down in the countryside’ (his words), before developing his interest in international banking and the funding of hedges. He has denied not being a lover of the show and not having a sense of humor, claiming that he is a massive comedy fan, enjoying legends of fun like British ’80s stars Little and Large and Cannon and Ball, ‘all the funny ads off the telly’, and especially ‘them redneck lads what do say funny things about lawnmowers and having long hair at the back’.

‘Mrs. Brown’s Boys’, a comedy created during the first Russian Revolution and shown twice on the hour on all 83 Irish channels ever since, was recently reported to have a global audience of 109 billion, and is particularly popular with people who don’t like other stuff, and lads who are in jail for doing mad things.

Sean Driscoll, a representative for the Irish Immigration Services, when asked by The Heraldy Press about the allegations regarding Mr. Dominguez-Burke’s status in the country said; ‘What?’ When we repeated the question, he replied; ‘Ah here, would you stop’.

Incidentally, Pablo’s attempt at taking off the ‘working class’ accent of the lad in the elevator was indeed atrocious.

Words by Bosco Coppell, Picture by Fidelma’s Hair Creations and Salads.

Interview with Mick O’Dwyer.

Sunday, January 25th, 2015

Mick O’Dwyer

There is that increasingly rare moment in sport when the completely unexpected occurs.

A chance event, a flash in the pan with odds stacked so greatly against it transpiring, that only a fanatical devotee with a problematic love for extreme gambling, would ever dream of it coming to pass.

Incidents such as golfing great Tiger Woods, losing his nerve and dropping a stroke on the final green, tennis king Roger Federer not actually making it to a Grand Slam final, or a pre-retirement Lance Armstrong finishing in something other than first place at a cycling event.

Many years ago, when a young man from County Kerry, freshly retired from a hugely successful gaelic football-playing career, entered management for the first time, and clinched, not only his first Munster Senior and Under-21 titles, but also the All-Ireland Senior and Under-21 titles, there were individuals across the parishes of Ulster, the stadiums of Leinster, the playing fields of Connaught and even the hallowed training grounds of his native Munster, who felt that not only was this merely an embarrassingly fortuitous form of beginner’s luck, but that there was no way he could repeat his extraordinary early successes.

Mick O’Dwyer, a football-obsessed man from Waterville, however, was to go on to crush the critics, nullify the naysayers and batter the begrudgers for years to come, as his all-conquering Kerry side clinched an astonishing eight All-Ireland Championships and eleven Munster crowns.

Having experienced a hugely successful playing career, in which he won four All-Ireland medals, eight National Football League medals and eleven Munster Championship medals, in an inter-county career which began way back in 1954, Mick O’Dwyer moved, seemingly effortlessly, from his position as a corner forward on a triumphant Kingdom team into the managerial hotseat in 1975, where he remained holding the reins of his beloved Kerry side, until the wells of success began to run dry in the latter third of the 1980s, before retiring from the post in 1989.

It is that particular era of his career in Gaelic Football that naturally takes up the greater proportion of his recently-released autobiography, ‘Blessed and Obsessed’. Speaking with the incredibly down to earth O’Dwyer during a recent visit to New York, where he was awarded a hero’s welcome by scores of Kerry folk, who congregated at Rosie O’Grady’s restaurant in midtown Manhattan, to welcome their hero to their adopted side of the Atlantic, it’s rather easy to forget that here is a man considered a legend in his field, such is his easygoing nature and man-of-the-world attitude towards life.

With regards to the book, O’Dwyer claims to have been reluctant to get involved in its production initially; “I’ll tell you one thing. I’d not much interest in the book at first. Blackwater Press were on to me, but once Martin Breheny was on board (that was enough)”. Co-written with Breheny, the GAA editor of the Irish Independent, ‘Blessed and Obsessed,’ is more than merely a biography of one of the greatest figures the game has produced.

It is a diary of sorts, an outlet for O’Dwyer to vent his feelings with regards to the way the game is played today, how he feels about Irish and international society in general, and of course, dozens of sporting anecdotes to keep the footballing purists entertained.

Currently managing Wicklow, where he’s involved with; “A nice little team. It’s a very young side, nothing will happen over night, but the enjoyment I get out of working with these Wicklow players is unbelievable,” O’Dwyer has clearly lost little of his youthful vigor, optimism and love for the game.

It is the fourth county he has led, following two stints with Kildare, whom he took to a first Leinster title in forty-two years, and an All-Ireland Final in 1998, only to be defeated by an old nemesis of his (Galway), not once, but twice, when the Connaught champions defeated his Lillywhites again in 2000.

Having left Kildare for a second time, after being defeated by old enemies Dublin in 2002, O’Dwyer accepted a management role with Laois, whom he promptly took to their first Leinster title in fifty-seven years, in 2003.

Despite three Leinster final appearances (with one victory) ‘Micko’ felt it was time to move on, and it is to this day that he remains with his new charges, Wicklow, with whom he won the Tommy Murphy Cup Final versus Antrim just last year, despite having just undergone minor cardiac surgery.

With Wicklow languishing in the doldrums for so many years before his arrival, who is not to say that the man with the Midas touch could well be the one to bring the blooms back to the Garden County?

Immigrant Returns to Ireland Having Forgotten To Turn Off Immersion

Sunday, January 25th, 2015

longfodA New York-based immigrant from County Longford is to return home after just two weeks, having received some devastating news in the mail. Oliver Gormley (43), a carpenter from Ballymahon, left Ireland with his family (his father-in-law and eleven cousins) earlier this month to start a new life in the US. Having relinquished his position as a pipe-fitter with Bierhausen & Dausch, a Carlow-based stockbroking firm, Gormley packed his belongings, unsuccessfully applied for a refund from his local gym (‘Sure I was only after going once in two years, and that was to get change for the smokes machine in O’Hanlons’, he claimed) , collected his winnings at the Longford Ladies Bingo Extravaganza, and left for New York.

It was to be a brief sojourn however, for no sooner had he sat down for a few pints at Ted Donovan’s Saloon and Bistro-Grill Beer Garden (with Disco Bar) on Katonah Avenue in Woodlawn, that he was informed that there was a letter marked ‘Urgent’ waiting for him at his new apartment in Woodlawn. It was that most-dreaded of communications from the homeland that all immigrants fear; ‘Son, you forgot to turn off the immersion’.

Oliver’s mother, Betty Gormley (79), on a routine inspection of her son’s house in Ballymahon, noticed a peculiar warmth throughout the building. ‘I noticed a peculiar warmth throughout the building, so I did’, she claimed. Upon further inspection, when she realized that the condensation was forming on the inside of the windows and not the outside like it normally did, it dawned on her that her son had forgotten to turn off the immersion. Unable to climb the three stories to the attic where the hot press was located, and having fallen out with neighbors on both sides (the McKennas in the late ’50s over the non-return of a milking stool, and the Dwyers on Monday last for calling her son Oliver a ‘demented slut’) Betty’s only option was to contact her son in America.

Having booked thirteen tickets home for himself and his relatives, who didn’t mind coming back, according to Oliver; ‘Sure they thought America was shite anyway, no snooker clubs or nothing, and they kept missing ‘The Sunday Game’, he’s discovered a central heating bill for $14,812.91 waiting for him, as well as 214 bottles of 1% milk and 23 dozen eggs, having forgotten to tell the milkman he was leaving. He’d do it all again however, as ‘There’s a certain waitress I got the eye off in Woodlawn, that I wouldn’t mind gettin’ the other eye off, if you know what I mean’. We didn’t know what he meant, but he was most likely talking about Bonnie Dempsey, but she was only staring at him, because he’d walked into a Roscommon-owned bar wearing his Longford shorts (in January) and his ‘Roscommon Are Shite’ socks.

Words by Bosco Coppell. Picture by Derek ‘Turnbuckle’ Molloy’s (private collection).


Controversial Weatherman Predicts ‘Soft Oul’ Day, Thank God’

Friday, January 23rd, 2015

photoA veteran Irish meteorologist based in Missouri has gotten into trouble with his employers, after forecasting what he described as; ‘A soft oul’ day, thanks be to God’. Gerry Riordan, a 78-year-old weatherman who has worked at WKRC St. Louis for almost four hours, claimed that it was a mere; ‘Slip of the oul’ tongue, for the love of jayziz’, and meant no harm by the comment. The switchboard at the station is said to have been jammed, with operator Betty Dingle (91), being forced to work overtime to deal with almost seven complaints from a disgusted, harassed and shocked public.

A ‘soft day’, is, in the Irish vernacular, a term describing weather which is not quite dry, and not totally wet, usually a slightly misty day, with an occasional threat of rain, but still a chance of sunshine. It was however, too much to take for some viewers of the station, with local man Henry Jacobsen (14) claiming: ‘I didn’t actually see the broadcast, I was out on my skateboard, so you’d be better off asking someone else’.

It’s not the first time Riordan has hit the headlines. In 1953, he came second in a talent contest in Copenhagen with his version of one of Kelly Clarkson’s earlier hits, while in the early ’60s he was suspended without pay from his job as weatherman with Radio Nairobi, when telling listeners; ‘Surprise surbastardprize folks, it’s another sweltering afternoon in Nairobi’. He was also criticized for telling listeners of his satisfaction upon hearing that lightening had struck the home of his third wife Elaine Bagnall (22), of Wexford, partially destroying her collection of antique lampshades.

Among his more memorable quotes while announcing the weather on various television and radio channels over the years have been: ‘It’s hot as Satan’s underpants drawer here in Mullingar today’, a mistake as he was employed by Sri Lankan Airways at the time, and ‘Hurricane season has been cancelled for this year, ah no, I’m only messin’, yiz are all ****ed.’ Mr. Riordan is to be suspended from WKRC for the rest of the afternoon, though we wrote this yesterday, so he’s most likely back by now.

Words by Bosco Coppell, Picture by Dorothy’s Nails and Tangerines. 





‘Ah Here, Leave It Out’, To Be Dublin’s New Official Motto

Saturday, January 17th, 2015

Ah Here, Leave It Out.

In a somewhat surprising move, members of Dublin City Council have voted the expression; ‘Ah Here, Leave It Out’ as the official motto for Dublin City and County, and from January 21st, the phrase will appear on all legal Dublin documentation, replacing; ‘Story, Bud’, which has been a staple of the Dublin language since 1746. The wording will also be seen on flags, bus and train schedules, decorative items (such as ashtrays, beer glasses, toothbrushes, t-shirts etc), advertizing hoardings and tracksuits. The expression has already been phased in throughout certain sections of the county, with one housing estate in east Blanchardstown and residents of a small field on the outskirts of Castleknock already having accepted it following an online poll.

The saying came in with 83% of the total vote, though Enda Kenny’s Government allowed residents of certain towns to vote as often as they liked, allegedly to make up for the recently-introduced controversial laws banning the racing of piebald ponies in built-up areas, as well as a partial ban on the sale of horsemeat in those same areas. When asked to give an opinion on the matter, local ‘livestock merchant’,  Buttons ‘Dermot’ McCabe (43), said: ‘I will in me hole’.

Other sayings suggested as the county’s official motto were ‘Where The Girls Are So Pretty’, nominated by the Dublin Society for the Partially-Sighted, ‘Come On You Boys in Blue’ by the Gardai Siochana (Dublin division), ‘Get Out of that Garden’, put forward by Deco, Macker and Henno from Ballyer, and ‘Meath is a Dirty Oul’ Kip’, also by Deco, Macker and Henno.

The phrase, believed to have been derived from the saying: ‘Ah for the love of Jayziz, will yeh cop on and leave it out’, was first heard in its entirety in the summer of 1976, as the Montreal Olympics were in full swing, and Ireland were winning nothing; ‘As per bleedin’ usual’, according to one local sportswriter. Apologies for the unnecessary use of the word ‘bleedin’, there, but there’s no backspace on this keyboard, so we must simply press on. With Dublin leading the way in the nation’s sports, politics, media and cross-dressing karaoke restaurants, it was only natural that it be the first county to move with the times and introduce a new motto to herald in 2015.

Words by Bosco Coppell. Picture by Damian Falstaff. 

US News Channel Warns of Irish Religious Extremism

Thursday, January 15th, 2015


A week after a ‘conservative commentator’ in the US was criticized for claiming that English city Birmingham had become a ‘no-go’ area for non-practicing Muslims, another right-wing activist has allegedly suggested that Ireland was becoming a breeding ground for individuals of a similar religious persuasion. In recent weeks, claims self-proclaimed ‘terror expert’ Dermot Lopez, several ‘angry bearded chaps’ (ABCs) had been spotted in Ireland, some, he claimed, worryingly close to the pinnacle of Irish society.

Indeed, it was just last Wednesday that Steve Emerson, a previously unheard-of expert in rabble-rousing and scaring folk with made-up stuff, stated that English cities had become over-run with certain religious types, with a number of the more famous and glamorous towns, such as London, Liverpool. Manchester and Doncaster, having a Muslim population of just over 104% each. Indeed, Manchester was alleged to contain more Buddhists than people, while London had become even scarier than when Catholics ruled the city for several hours after St. Swithin’s Day of last year.


Angry Bearded Man steals ball and runs away pushing people.

It has been an ongoing worry, claims Lopez, himself a true-blue American, who is able to trace his family tree all the way back to 1987. Just several weeks ago, another ABC (pictured at top of report) was allowed travel to the United States, where, local types claimed he; ‘Bait the lard out of some other lad’. This, incredibly, was cheered on by an attending crowd, and watched on television by millions, with Lopez, a long-time Facebook friend of one of Sarah Palin’s closest advisers, David Milton (8), disgusted at the proceedings.

‘I am worried for a fine commonwealth such as The Northern Irish Ireland and it’s more southerly neighbor The Irish Republic of Ireland South, as well as, of course, the more easterly and westerly sides, I don’t recall what they’re called, becoming overrun by such zealous religious and political fanaticism. I was an honorable guest of a close personal Facebook friend of mine, where I watched a rugby game with, via Skype, and was dismayed to see one of these ABCs (above) allowed contest the game. Several times he angrily stole the ball from the other gentlemen, and ran away with it, all the time, maintaining his angry face and flowing beard. It ruined the performance for me, and thousands of the fans watching, who were clearly annoyed at this man’s behavior. Worryingly though, thousands of other fans, seemed happy, concerning times indeed’.


Angry bearded chap shouts at big crowd of laughing people.

Ireland, one of the more Catholicized countries east of Pennsylvania Dutch Country, has witnessed a major expansion where other religions are concerned, with Buddhists now outnumbering Christians by a scoreline of 18-1 in some of the more Buddhist-orientated regions of the nation’s designated Chinatown districts. As one avid viewer of said news channel claimed, when we asked him what he thought of Ireland’s current political and religious climate, he said something about change being merely part of a liberal vagina, though we think he meant agenda, before shouting; ‘USA!! USA!!’. With the extreme, fanatical bearded ones now allowed have their own comedy shows, and one even running for President in recent years. Ireland’s reputation as one of the Vatican’s favorite retreats for a few pints and an oul’ prayer, is in serious jeopardy.


Angry Bearded Almost Presidential Chap.


Angry Bearded Chap Who Fears No Man.


Words (and numbers) by Bosco Coppell. 

A Letter to a Monster Who Is Now Most Likely Dead

Thursday, January 8th, 2015

school_fencing_big2Howya Miss, or is it Mrs, or it’s hardly still Sister, is it? Sure, who knows, or even cares at this stage? I’d say forgive the ‘howya’ at the beginning, but, it’s not meant to be disrespectful (though I’ve little respect for you), or over-familiar (we were hardly on friendly terms), it’s just how I am. Then, I’m not the one who should be asking for forgiveness, am I? I say ‘howya’ as a term of endearment, affection, a ‘hello’ to people I already know and like, or to people I think I might get to know and like. I’ll make an exception in your case. See, since I last saw you, I don’t think I’ve really hated anybody, but then again, I’ve not loved anyone since then either. You saw to that. You made sure I, and others like me, would never experience love or trust, and that others would know we were also unloved and unlovable.

You’d be surprised to receive a letter from the likes of me, as you were the one who reminded us how worthless we were, and how none of us would ever amount to anything, not an astronaut, or even a man who could write a letter. Well, your assessment was right in some ways. It was due to the constant mental abuse and physical torture, the taunts, the beatings, the shouting and the bullying, that I left school so early. In my mid forties now, I’m still not a confident reader or writer, and indeed, a friend, or should I say, acquaintance, is writing this for me.

An acquaintance, because I don’t have friends. It wasn’t supposed to be that way, we were all happy children starting out, but within fast weeks and short years, we became isolated and terrified. I didn’t have pals, but comrades, comrades in arms, comrades in shorts, standing together as we were terrorized into submission on a daily basis and reminded of our utter uselessness. Comrades became fellow outsiders, recluses, addicts, until eventually becoming one another’s councilors, cellmates and even, pallbearers.

We didn’t look for sympathy, or assistance, or punishment to be doled out. We just wanted a childhood. Kids shouldn’t be beaten. Weapons should have no place in a child’s life, but you felt differently. I’ve failed in many aspects of my life. I can live with never having become the astronaut I wanted to be when I was six, or the pop star, the actor, the writer, the footballer. We all had dreams, and mine evaporated far too soon. My few triumphs in life will always have me think of you, who must have sent more children mentally turning away from God, yet physically returning to him soon afterwards, as their short lives petered out unnoticed.

I’ve triumphed because I’m still here. Many of my classmates didn’t make it this far, some who did moved as quickly and as far away as possible, others are still around in body, but mentally, well, not so much.

You’re to blame for that, but you won’t be punished like we were. Our crimes were so much smaller, yet we paid such a higher price for them. A coat on the wrong hook, a door not closed properly, a pencil unsharpened, a notebook mislaid, lessons written with left, not right, hands. Not quite the same as contributing to an infinite amount of lifetimes filled with mental anguish, depression, addiction and loneliness.

I’m still here. Still here and mentally aware. I know who I am, who I can be, and who I’ll never be again. I’ve survived, though I’m not sure whether you have. When it is my time to go, and you’ll no doubt have gone long before me, I’ll say hello to the man upstairs for you, the one you told us about, the one who thought we were all wastes of human life who’d amount to nothing. Well, I’ll mention you to him, see, maybe he didn’t hate me after all. Maybe I’ll see if he can ask the man downstairs to keep a seat warm for you. After all the years, perhaps the tables will turn and it’ll be our familiar, grubby, but decent faces looking down at you for a change.

Yours sincerely,

BC, Class of 1977.

Signs You’ve Been With Your Irish Immigrant Partner A While

Wednesday, January 7th, 2015

1. You appreciate the work of Yeats. Years ago, you didn’t even know what a ‘Yeat’ was.


2. It probably won’t make you sweat, it could however, make you jump. Hence, it’s a ‘jumper’, not a ‘sweater’.

orourke clan aran sweater1-500x500

3. There’s a slight chance that you now know who Val Doonican is.

val doonican

4. You know f***-all about golf, but Rory McIlroy is the best player ever to play the game. Much better than those Jake Nicholls or Albert Palmer lads.


5. You used to wonder why there were so many green, white and orange things in your home.


6. Not so long ago, you thought 1916 was how army dudes said quarter past seven.

7. Your partner is allowed laugh at, ridicule, mimic, insult and degrade Irish people, things, places, habits, customs, history, culture or food. You do it and you’re dead.

8. You’re starting to get Tommy Tiernan’s ‘Navan’ references.

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9. You’d never heard the word ‘ecumenical’ before watching ‘Father Ted’ and now you know all about; hairy hands syndrome, a lovely horse, Pat Mustard and micro-cakes.


10. You can name a Cranberries song other than ‘Zombie’.


11. You’re not sure whether Sinead O’Connor is a tortured artistic genius or a mad oul’ badger, and you’re too afraid to ask.

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12. You’ve watched your partner proudly drink Guinness in front of Americans/Brits/New Zealanders and Equitorial Guineans, but he/she really can’t stand the stuff.

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13. Nowadays, rather than stare in dumbstruck awe when someone says ‘Sure, ’tis a soft oul’ day thank God’, you nod and say; ‘Aye’.

14. You can quote lines from; ‘The Field’, ‘The Snapper’, ‘The Commitments’ and ‘In The Name of the Father’.


15. You, or your partner, has never; ‘Come into the parlour’, and would probably be afraid to.

16. You’re almost positive ‘Day-Lewis’ is an Irish name, but you’re not 100%, and sure, there’s nobody to ask without looking like a right eejit.


17. You can spell ‘Tiocfaidh Ar La’ better than most people who scrawl it on the bathroom walls in bars across New York/London/Sydney/Papua New Guinea.

18. You’re still not sure whether the ‘Shillelagh’ is a winged mammal, stringed instrument or weapon of mass destruction.

19. You will not ask for ‘a dash of blackcurrant’ in your pint while your partner is within earshot.

20. Like your partner, you know the choruses to every Irish ballad song ever written, because they don’t have verses. Hang on, what?

21. You’ve learned that a wedding reception isn’t over, until nine hours after the bar closes and every song ever written has been butchered by a drunken uncle, who knows an average of nine words from every song.

22. You know that the above uncle wasn’t drunk. He was stocious, hammered, manky or ossified. Not merely three sheets to the wind.

23. When your partner says she/he saw U2 play at the Dandelion Market in Dublin where only 14 other people attended, you just keep your opinions to yourself if you know what’s good for you.

24. Ballygobackwards isn’t a real place, and mahogany gaspipes aren’t real things.

25. You just might know who used to say ‘Roll it there Collette’ and later, ‘Roll it there Roisin’. And it wasn’t Bob Marley when he visited Wexford.

25(a) You know that Gabriel Byrne and Gay Byrne are different people.


26. You know that Peter O’Toole, Spike Milligan, The Edge, Saint Patrick and Jack Charlton weren’t Irish. You also know not to bring it up.

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‘Serenity’ By Liam Fitzpatrick.

Monday, January 5th, 2015


Looking at the sleeping child.

Her tenderness forever sealed

In her wondrous state.

Loved, not reviled.

Her gentle ways and smiles


The mysteries of Life

And Natures wiles.

Why was she chosen

To be so pure?

Before those of lesser worth,

And warmth so poor?

My mind’s not bitter,

My heart’s just sad.

That such a choice.

Could come from God.


Sarah Palin Reaches Out To New Irish Party

Sunday, January 4th, 2015

paline lucinda

Conservatives on both sides of the Atlantic rejoiced over the weekend, after American right-wing icon Sarah Palin (pictured on left) attempted to contact her alleged Irish counterpart, Lucinda Creighton (right), in a bid to wish Miss Creighton luck in the Irish General Election.

The plan was in vain however, as Mrs. Palin, despite being a ‘really good counter’, miscalculated the time difference between Alaska and County Carlow. Instead, she wound up calling the US Space Station ‘Fortitute’, eleven miles above the Arizona desert. Here she was kept on hold for four hours, as the astronaut, a lifelong Democrat was ‘otherwise engaged’. It was an expensive error, which will cost the US tax-payer $441,009, as the US has no long-distance telephone agreement with outer space.

Miss Creighton, meanwhile, a much-loved occasional politician who departed the ruling Irish parliamentary party Fine Gael, allegedly due to that party’s refusal to make daily mass-going compulsory, has since established her own organization, called ‘Renua’, which roughly translates as ‘New Re’.

New members are encouraged, with recent inductees being awarded a $41 cash prize, a barely-used bicycle and the opportunity for one’s first eleven children to be baptized half-price at Saint Gordon’s Catholic Church in Enniscorthy, County Wexford.

Miss Creighton’s party is the 23rd such organization to have been formed in Ireland since last Thursday, and will, if it gathers the support it expects, last until at least until the end of the Easter holidays. Currently it is the 19th most popular party in Wexford, and also has two supporters in the Isle of Man.

The similarities between Palin and Creighton, are seemingly endless. Both enjoy traditional Christian behavior, though while the American enjoys murdering bears with automatic weapons fired from a hovering helicopter, the Irishwoman prefers mass. Both are females who hope one day to move into politics, the two are avid readers, with Palin favoring every newspaper in the entire world, while Creighton enjoys perusing the newsletter of whichever parish she happens to be campaigning against 21st century values in at the time.

Healthcare is of the utmost importance to the Irish party, with vaccinations promised to cure individuals from mumps, rickets, rubella and homosexuality. The American however, feels US President Barack Obama, has destroyed America, with his attempts at allowing poorer folk access to medical assistance, suggesting instead, that each household has a medium-sized box of band-aids (plasters), each of which must be washed before reusing. We tried to contact Mrs. Palin’s office, but her spirit was too busy soaring with delight as her patriotic heart beat with pride when she looked at her supporters praying, reflecting, misspelling stuff and drunkenly brawling, to deal with the likes of us.

Words by: Bosco Coppell, Pictures found in a canal by Rusty Henderson.