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Life – It’s Not All It’s Cracked Up To Be

As you will be aware, it’s not that I am the sort of person anxious to be spreading gossip, but things appears to be a bit shaky with regards to Mikey Ryan, despite his decision to get back with the wife.

It’s from reading between the lines, that I’ve come to that conclusion; well that and other obvious testimony coming from the mouth of none other than Mikey himself.

We were above in the Arch Bar, Liberty Square on Saturday night, when Mikey told me about the rather unusual phone call. He claims the telephone rang just as he was dozing off in bed around 1.30am. With eyes still half closed and with only the light filtering through his curtains from the street outside, he retrieved the phone’s receiver from his bedside locker. He listened for a few seconds before shouting down the phone “How the feck would I know, sure that’s about 124 km from Thurles”.
His wife, lying beside him, rolled over and asked “Who was that Mikey”, to which Mikey replied “Oh I don’t know, some idiot of a man wanting to know if ‘the coast was clear’; as if I could tell him from this distance inland.”

Add that to the fact that earlier that day Mikey had stormed into the Thurles postmaster’s office in a rage. “I’ve been getting threatening letters in the mail for months and I want them stopped.” demanded Mikey.
“Yes of course”, said the postmaster. “Sending threatening letters through the mail is indeed a criminal offence. Now can you tell me do you know who is sending them?”
“Yes”, shouted a very annoyed Mikey “It’s those feckin idiots in the Thurles Revenue Office”.

It would appear from what I could gather that the postmaster on hearing this had agreed to “seriously examine the situation”, and I, thankfully, remembered those great words of the poet Thomas Grey; “Where ignorance is bliss, ’tis folly to be wise”, and didn’t further elaborate on what truly constitutes threatening mail.

“Listen Mikey”, said I, in an effort to change the subject, “Before I go; you know that Viking guy that moved to live up in the Moyne Road last week; he’s known as Rudolph (The Red)?  Well having looked out his window last night he informed his wife, that, quote, “It’s going to rain.”
His wife asked, “How do you know?”
To which the Viking replied “Because Rudolph the Red knows rain, Dear.”

Sure listen I have to run, look I’ll be chatting to you before Christmas.


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