The Heraldy Press

Michael Collins, the ‘Soundest Bloke’ in history.

A nationwide survey of Irish teenagers between the ages of eleven and twenty-two has found that a majority feel that legendary Irish revolutionary Michael Collins was the ‘soundest bloke’ (ie coolest gentleman) in history. War hero Collins, who died in 1922, defeated the likes of former US President John F. Kennedy, Indian spiritual leader Mahatma Gandhi, English anti-parliamentarian Guy Fawkes and the fellah who played ‘Fonzie’ on popular American sitcom, ‘Happy Days’, to top the poll.

The study, carried out in 812 secondary schools in all of Ireland’s thirty-two counties, as well as the disputed border regions of East/West Wexford, took almost two hours to complete, with most schools closed down in the weeks leading up to the historic event. Sponsored by ‘Kerrygold – Bringing Butter from the Cow’s Bits onto Your Bread for Nine Centuries’ and Monica’s Bridalwear (Kilkenny branch), the survey also determined that the ‘biggest ride’ in history was controversial French queen, Marie Antoinette, who once uttered the immortal line: ‘Ah lads, are yis after eatin’ all the biscuits’, when informed that there was no cheese left for her peasants to nibble on.

Utterer of the immortal line: ‘Are there any biscuits left lads?’. – Marie Antoinette.

Other leaders in the ‘biggest ride’ (ie prettiest individual) category, were: Marie Antoinette’s fellow French native Joan of Arc, Henry VIII’s headless first wife Anne Bolyn (but when she had a head, of course), iconic Japanese princess and inventor of the pyramids, Cleopatra and pop singer Belinda Carlisle, who narrowly defeated Russian mystic Rasputin into sixth place.

Villains of history were voted as being (in order): Attila the Hun; Vlad the Impaler (the inspiration for Dracula), Russian Tsar Ivan the Terrible, Mongolian leader Genghis Khan and Mary Harney, Ireland’s former Minister for Health.

The poll has been deemed an extraordinary success, with youngsters throughout the land claiming to have discovered a new-found interest in history. ‘We’ve discovered a new found interest in history’, said one young man, Alfred Fox (23), who lied about his age so he could complete a questionnaire at his son’s school. Students across Ireland are now said to be reading books about the Russian Revolutions, The Spanish Civil War, the Reunification of Germany and that thing in the 1980s in Kerry, when a load of oul’ ones thought that they saw the Virgin Mary’s face in a bag of Maltesers (they were the ones that melted in your hands, not in your mouth, or something).

Words by Bosco Coppell. Pictures thanks to Dermot’s Fishing Tackle. 

Anger has erupted throughout Ireland and indeed, parts of Westmeath, following the publication of a questionnaire regarding the unpopular water charges which have been implemented by the government. Of the 11,412 leaflets mailed to Irish households, just nine were returned filled-in, and of those, two were slightly destroyed due to fire damage (albeit different fires), one was partly covered with an unusual-smelling orange substance which burned at the touch and which may once have been food, while another had ‘Up Limerick’ daubed in chalk on the back.

The most controversial incident, which has had officer workers gossiping around their empty water-coolers however, was a remark made by one young man from the nation’s capital. Donal Harrigan, a 22-year-old dairy farmer from Dublin’s inner city, questioned why there were only two options underneath ‘Will You Pay the Water Charges’  on the pamphlet, those being, naturally, ‘Yes’ and ‘No’. Mr. Harrigan, a single man with several cousins, said other choices should be included. ‘Rather than just ‘yes’ or ‘no’ perhaps other options should be offered. Such as; ‘Perhaps’, ‘That may well be a possibility once my financial details get sorted out’, ‘Yes, when the country’s economy turns around’ and ‘I will in me hole’.

Mr. Harrigan went on to explain that he’d have substituted ‘hole’ for words such as; ‘boll*x’ or ‘swiss’ (a shortened version of ‘swiss roll’, which in Dublinese, is slang for ‘hole’, to assist those living in different parts of the country).

A representative for Irish Water was not available for comment, though when hounded for an answer, Irish Water executive Mr. Derek Flynn, of Enniscorthy, County Wexford, who wished to remain anonymous, said: ‘Ah lay off, will youse, I’m only doing me job’. He actually did say ‘youse’ as well, even though the incorrect usage of the plural of ‘you’ was pointed out to him.

Introduction of said charges have made the nation’s leader, Enda Kenny, a figure of dislike in many parishes, except his own in County Mayo, where they think he’s a great oul’ laugh altogether. Other political figures, such as Joan Burton (Kenny’s second-in-command, or ‘Tanaiste’) are also under fire with regards to the regulations, though individuals such as Eamon De Valera and that fella from West Clare with the mustache aren’t, as they both passed away some time ago.

By Bosco Coppell. Picture courtesy of Fidelma’s Lampshades.

Two flags, with a leaf thing in the middle.

A survey has determined that many ‘Irish-Americans’ have never heard of Counties Leitrim, Wexford or Roscommon. The surprising development occurred just one month after the biggest day on the Irish-American calendar, ‘Saint Patty’s Day’, a week-long psychological odyssey, where those of Irish grand-parentage get to wear Irish ‘tricolor’ pins on their lapels, and be more Irish than the rest of us, while younger folk, who enjoy the music of Dropkick Murphys, The Dubliners and Philomena Begley for one day a year, get to be slaughtered drunk and hang out with married firefighters.

The study, carried out by numerous institutes of higher learning in both countries, as well as the college of agricultural hairdressing in Sligo, found that of all 43 counties, the most famous ones were perhaps not surprisingly; Dublin, Cork, Galway and Mullingar. Meanwhile, lesser-known counties included Roscommon, Wexford, Connecticut and Leitrim, the last of which was only recognized by nine people out of 1,000 participants, with one person assuming the word ‘Leitrim’, due to its provocative name, was something of a sexual nature.

Said one of the survey’s participants, Brad Williams from County Bronx; ‘Once they let us out of that van after so long, with no food or water for days, I’d have admitted to never having heard of California. It was a cunning ploy by the survey’s organizers, all of whom are from Wexford’s bitter rivals and close neighbors Donegal, to punish us into admitting to never having heard of their more illustrious and glamorous counterparts’.

Ireland, the spiritual home of most Irish-Americans, even the Presbyterian ones, was for many years divided into 32 ‘counties’, until the so-called economic boom of the ‘Celtic Tiger’ years, when eleven more counties were created, and sold to developers from Japan. It is however, no shock to folk from the lesser-known counties, to have received little in the way of recognition, says one proud ‘Wexican’, farmer Anthony McDermott (15) from Enniscorthy; ‘Sure, ’tis all a load of oul’ sh*te anyway’.

Words by Bosco Coppell. Pictures by ‘Medieval Trinkets by Dermot’.

A grande disappointment with a dash of bitterness and some semi-skimmed utter dismay is on the menu at a Starbucks restaurant in County Wexford, after it was discovered that a local man, who’d been spotted there every day for the past nineteen years typing furiously on his laptop, was not a real writer.

The man, named locally as Dave ‘David’ Fitzgibbon (27), had been a regular customer at the Enniscorthy branch, since 1996, and each day as the venue opened, he’d be the first customer in the door, where he’d order his usual tipple, a grande no-foam, semi-steamed mocchatino with nutmeg and a sprinkling of paprika (for his ulcer). He’d go on to seat himself in the location’s prime table, a four-top by the bay-window, looking out onto the town’s bustling Main Street, nodding to passers-by who gazed in awe at a real writer plying his trade before their very own eyes. Now however, the town, and indeed, the staffers at Starbucks, are distraught and angered as it turned out that Dave was not a real writer at all, but was in fact, a failed typing student from the nearby Samantha Gomez School of Secretarial Studies.

Says Pete Mitchell, manager at Dave’s former hangout; ‘I don’t understand it at all. He even had a stupid beard and them big glasses that lads who don’t even need glasses wear. He’s taken the best table in the joint and bored the arses of fourteen generations of waitresses, even telling us that he was once on the Westmeath Herald’s Bestsellers List. He’s some bo**ocks, I’ll tell you that’. Since his ruse was discovered, Dave, who once listed his inspirations as Jack Kerouac, Bob Dylan and Jackie Collins, has not been seen around town, and has even failed to show up at his secretarial course, where he is in danger of losing his deposit on a typewriter he rented back in 2004.