The Heraldy Press

A balloon, filled with regular gas, not bum stuff.

A man from County Longford is denying accusations that he was recently rendered intoxicated, having accidentally inhaled a bartender’s flatulence. Dermot Lopez, 27 Avondale Crescent, Granard, County Longford (it’s the second house from the corner, opposite the portable toilets left over from when they built Dessie’s Dartboard Rental), who asked to remain anonymous, claims that he may well have become overwhelmed by the fumes emanating from the trouser area of the bartender on duty at Flamingo’s Night Club last Tuesday afternoon, but in no way was he left in a drunken stupor. ‘I droop stunkenly every day. Sorry, stoop drunkenly’, he said, in a lame attempt at humor. He also denied experiencing any pleasure from the incident, and he does not have, as some people have since claimed, ‘a bit of a liking for sniffing lads’ arses’. Lopez was witnessed walking in to the establishment ‘in fine fettle’, according to Mary Plantagenet, the head waitress at Flamingo’s, but within minutes was; ‘Staggering around like a dirty oul eejit’.

A veteran of the local nightlife, Lopez has been drinking in the establishment since long before it became Flamingo’s. Having first ventured through the club’s doors back in 1983, aged nine, he’s been a regular during its incarnations as The Horn, The Fluffy Hippo, The Dandy Vicar, Snaggletooth’s, Patricia’s Pastries, Dame Vincent’s Cubbyhole and Hegarty’s Ale House. According to a recent estimate, Lopez has been drunk, or reasonably inebriated on the premises, 8,012 times, not until now however, was an unexpected anal occurrence to blame for his wobbly walking and complete ‘talking through his hole’ (the words of another witness who wished to remain anonymous, Dervla Ingalls, Dermot’s ex-girlfriend).

Said Dermot;  ‘In all fairness, I done loads of mad stuff in me time, but never did I get hammered due to a rumble from a barman’s arse. Youse aren’t usin’ me real name for this are youse?’. When we asked Phil Coakley, the bartender on duty on the afternoon in question for his side of the story, we were told; ‘I dunno, but I’m always fartin’ me. One time I made this oul’ one’s eyes water. I particularly like doing it right beside some customers that are really annoying me, then walking away, and then giving dirty looks in their direction, so that other people think they’re responsible for my disgusting filth’. Words by Bosco Coppell. Image courtesy of Dorothy’s Antique Hairbrushes. 

A view of part of Europe from a very tall ladder. Or a plane, yeah, most likely a plane.

Offaly man Eddie Savage’s incredible attempt to learn all 32 national anthems of this year’s World Cup entrants has failed, after it was determined that he had in fact, mistakenly memorized the lyrics and tunes of the anthems belonging to the Eurovision Song Contest entrants instead. Savage, a 37-year-old cousin of eleven, had been attempting to win back a former girlfriend, Dolly Flanagan (83), of no fixed abode, who once claimed that he had the basic rhythm skills and vocal ranges of a drunken gibbon, a remark which propelled him towards realizing his dream.

Speaking with The Heraldy Press a few minutes ago, Savage, a semi-retired poet and occasional tree surgeon said; ‘My mistake became quite obvious, when, rather than reciting thundering choruses and chest-beating verses which would’ve been sung by men going to war and heroes of nations defeating evil tyrants, I was singing all manners of sh*te about kittens, lollipops, mushrooms, and in the case of the Macedonian entry, a traffic light which had fallen into a tent’. The fact too, that all the songs were from European countries confused him even more, he added; ‘I did find it unusual that Argentina, Brazil and Colombia weren’t at the World Cup, but then, I always thought Denmark and Spain were a lot closer to South America than they actually are’. Eddie’s ex, Miss Flanagan, was unavailable for comment. Well, she was available, but she told us to; ‘Go and shite’, and added; ‘Nothing that useless eejit does would surprise me’.
Words by Bosco Coppell, Picture provided kindly by Albert’s Fine Wines and Studded Neck Collars. 

Some money, yesterday.

Dermot McKeever, a 34-year-old semi-retired seamstress from Bailieborough, County Cavan, has hit back at critics of his home county, who claim that people from that area are reluctant to part with money. Mr. McKeever, who is reported to have made his fortune sewing Heavy Metal/Hard Rock patches on to his schoolfriends’ jackets back in the ’80s, left a 9% tip to his server, Katherine Gibbons, after dining at Dessie’s Kebab House in his home town last weekend. When asked whether this was a regular occurrence, Katherine, who wishes to remain anonymous, said; ‘Nah’. Cavan has the 23rd highest rate of tipping in the country, and Dermot hopes to help his beloved homeland improve upon that position. Speaking with The Heraldy Press a few minutes ago, he said; ‘Having been born and reared here, Cavan has always been one of my favorite counties, second only to Carlow for its scenery, and naturally, it’s reputation as the romance capital of the north midlands/lower northwest of the country is well-deserved’. That’s not what we asked him to comment upon, but sure, it’s too late to fix that now. When he did eventually get to the point and discuss tipping in Cavan, Dermot commented; ‘For too long we’ve suffered from the negative stereo-system that people from here don’t like to spend money. That’s wrong, three summers ago, I spent eight euro on a set of deck chairs at Derek’s Beachwear, I did return them in February because the weather was sh*te, but it still counts. If I continue to get the level of service which I experienced at Dessie’s Kebab House, which has sadly, since burned down, I will keep on tipping’. Probably not much though, as even his elderly mother Bernie described her son as being; ‘A stingy oul’ sh*te who wouldn’t spend Christmas’. Words by Bosco Coppell, Picture courtesy of Dearbhla’s Coffee Shop and Pest Control Services. 

A field near a polling station. With some birds in it.

Oliver Haughey, a 54-year-old spinster from County Westmeath, has claimed that he is so sick of Irish politics, that he has been voting in other countries for the past nineteen years. 

Mr. Haughey, no relation to the famous Haughey family from Monasterevin, County Kildare, who made their fortune in the black pudding business earlier this afternoon, said that since 1987, he’s attempted to vote in no fewer than eleven other countries, some of them quite exotic (Denmark), others not so (Roscommon). Speaking with The Heraldy Press at Tuesday lunchtime, around one-thirtyish or thereabouts, Mr. Haughey said; ‘I’ve tried to vote in many elections, for the Lord Mayor of Helsinki, the city councils in Oslo, Berlin and Manchester, the General Elections in Greece, Turkey and Bolivia, and for the vacant Treasurer’s position with Enniscorthy’s Gaelic Football Club, after the incumbent, Tommy Mulhall (89), died unexpectedly following a 96-hour rave in Ibiza’. 

So far however, despite his rage against the Irish political machine, and his lack of respect for those turning the wheels, his votes elsewhere have not counted. ‘Not being a citizen in any of them countries has been a problem for me, and I’m not a member of the County Offaly Lawn Bowls Club, or the Eastern Donegal Pitch and Putt League, so they wouldn’t let my votes count either’, said Oliver. Those reasons, however, are not the only ones for his votes being cast aside by those doing the counting. ‘See, I do also like to draw a picture of  a windmill with a smiley face on it on the ballot, and then I do vote for that’, said Oliver, an occasional trombonist with the Mullingar Philharmonic, and obvious gobshite. Story by Bosco Coppell, Picture courtesy of Amanda’s Interesting Jams and Fishing Tackle Store. 
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A field not unlike a soccer pitch. With some cows in it.

World Cup fever has hit northeast Wexford, and in particular, the Cosgrave family from Gorey. Jimmy Cosgrave, once part-owner of Cosgrave’s quality carpets, which closed down in 1976, after several successful weeks trading in the town, has even gone so far as to buy several packets of World Cup stickers, which he hopes to stick on the crossbar of his bicycle, after his sticker album is filled. Speaking with The Heraldy Press several minutes ago, Jimmy said; ‘I’ve been into the oul’ football for a good while now, but it’s only recently that I’ve gone to the next level and started buying stickers. I’ve f***in’ loads of doubles though. Seriously, if I get one more Juergen Klinsmann, or any more of them Iranian fellahs, I might just give it up. Wimbledon’s on in a few weeks in anyway, so I can watch that instead’. Jimmy’s daughter, also called Jimmy, who once played snooker with a lad who was on the books with Waterford United, is also a football enthusiast, even watching games when they’re on early in the morning. ‘I do watch the games, even when they do be on early in the mornings sometimes. If I’m up like’, she said. With Ireland not having qualified for this year’s competition, all eyes in the Cosgrave household will be on The Ivory Coast, unless there’s something else on that Mrs. Cosgrave wants to watch. ‘All our eyes will be on the Ivory Coast, unless there’s something on that my wife, Imelda, wants to watch. She f***in’ hates football’, said Jimmy Senior. The family are avid fans of the Ivory Coast, not due to stars of that nation such as Didier Drogba and Yaya Toure, but because Jimmy Senior’s pal Dessie Hannon once told him that the Ivory Coast was what eastern Wexford was known as back in olden times. It wasn’t of course, it was merely known as eastern Wexford, Jimmy, seemingly, would believe anything. Words by Bosco Coppell, Picture provided by Desmond and Fiona’s Quality Wools and Shooting Range.