Mikey Ryan discusses the new Trolley Tax and the Great Thurles Trolley Crisis.
Cartastrophe: How We Are Wheeling Up Food Prices.
Cart-Flation: How Abandoned Shopping Trolleys Are Undermining Tipperary’s Economy.
Are Abandoned Trolleys Driving Up the Cost of Your Roast Beef?
I swear all I said to Mikey Ryan was that Seamus Hanafin’s Walkway, has once again returned to being an unkempt dump, strewn with Supermarket Trolleys and after all the public money wasted, it is like the River Suir, no longer maintained by Thurles Municipal District. But my statement was enough to get local man Mikey Ryan ‘Riled Up’.
The‘Great Trolley Tax’. Pic G. Willoughby.
“Economists, retailers, and the good people of Thurles may all be missing the obvious culprit behind Ireland’s stubbornly high food prices, the malefactor being those feckin humble shopping trolleys”, declared Mikey Ryan.
We were above in the Arch Bar, Liberty Square, last night, supping a few pints, when Mikey Ryan announced to all and sundry that he really should have applied to local councillors to support him for the position of President of Ireland; the election due to take place on October 24th, 2025.
“Sure I would get through the Presidential election nomination process without any bother, through reinventing the global climate agenda by simply expanding planetary consciousness regarding shopping trolleys”, said Mikey confidently.
“On paper”,inflation is blamed on everything from energy costs to global supply chains. But take a closer look at our rivers, hedgerows, and half-finished Liberty Square, and you’ll spot the real drain on our wallets; it’s supermarket trolleys gone rogue”, stated Mikey, who now had the ear of everyone present.
Mikey paused to wet his whistle, before announcing that the cost of same 12 trolleys came to €4,239.12 in missing hardware.
“That’s not just metal and wheels, folks. That’s the equivalent of: 2,400 loaves of bread (pre-inflation). 1,500 litres of milk (assuming the cows agree to cooperate), or, given the latest CSO figures, perhaps just two bags of shopping if you’re fond of butter, beef, and chocolate.” he continued.
“The CSO yesterday tells us food inflation reached 5.1% in August. Butter is up 18.3%, Beef 22.7%, Milk 12.4%, Chocolate 16.3%, Coffee 12.1%. Coincidence? Is every percentage point tied to a trolley floating belly-up in the Suir and other rivers around our emerald isle?”
Mickey stopped again to gulp down another mouthful.
In a room where you could hear a pin drop, Mikey continued, “For one minute, let’s consider the supermarket boardroom’s conversation:- Manager: “Profits are down this quarter Sir”. Chairperson on the Board: “Why?“. Manager: “Well, six of our €353 Euro trolleys are living in the river Suir and another half-dozen are auditioning as urban sculptureson the Thurles inner relief road“. Chairperson: “Feck it, right so, put 20 cents on the price of milk and double it for butter. The cows won’t complain“.
“And so”, said Mikey, “here we see, for the first time, the introduction of the ‘Great Trolley Tax’, samebeing quietly passed on to every struggling, underprivileged household in the land” said Mikey, now in full verbal flow to his newly acquired audience.
He continued, “Some conspiracy theorists even whisper that these trolleys aren’t stolen at all, but strategically “misplaced” to justify current inflation. After all, nothing distracts the public like a shiny bit of stainless steel glinting in the sun beside the proposed inner relief road”.
“Good Lord”, said I, “So next time we’re standing in the supermarket queue, wincing at the cost of our Sunday roast, we should spare a thought for the twelve brave trolleys dumped in Thurles. They may look abandoned, but in truth, they are hard at work, driving up inflation”.
“True for you”, said Mikey, “and if you or anyone else happen to see a trolley making a slow escape toward the riverbank, don’t just hold your nose and grab it. You might not only be helping in the saving of this polluted River Suir, but end up shaving 2% off the price of your next packet of rashers”.
Tomorrow morning, September 8th, a few Thurles Municipal District councillors will gather for their monthly meeting, latter a time-honoured event where the real challenge isn’t making decisions, but finding a topic colourful enough to secure a quote or a photograph in the paper, or even a 10 minute clip on local radio.
This month, however, two burning issues (one quite literally) await them:
Issue (1)Liberty Square’s “Shock Feature”.
Motorists exiting the shiny new, half finished, Liberty Square area, into the new car park, may notice an ESB junction box/cabinet, carefully positioned where nobody can see it until it’s too late. Local observers have described it as “Thurles town’s first drive-thru toaster,” raising concerns that a poorly placed cabinet and a passing bumper could one day combine to produce Thurles’ first-ever flame-grilled shopper. One lady has suggested that the engineer responsible should be castigated. (I hope I have spelt that word correctly). While some might view this as a design flaw, others see potential: “It could be an electrifying tourist experience,” said one local. “Where else can you risk being fried without paying an admission fee?” But look on the dark side; for the first time in 3 years, the lights in the pavement no longer work during daylight hours. I wonder where that white piece on the side went? (See image above).
Issue (2) Parnell Street’s Garment Pod Avalanche.
Meanwhile, the town’s clothing recycling pods are reportedly following a “fill once, empty never” maintenance schedule/policy, as I observed today. Overflowing bags and the odd suitcase now cascade gracefully onto tarmac, creating what locals have dubbed “The Thurles Textile Centre.” Some residents are calling for official walking tours of the mounds of garments, while others suggest the pods be reclassified as public art. “At least it adds colour,” remarked one passerby, “though the smell in Summer could be as bad as the Suir-side walkway.” Speaking of the Suir-side walkway; other observers suggested that those responsible for this littering should have thrown their ‘unwanted couture‘ behind the bushes at the swinging gates on Emmett Street, like other considerate idiosyncrasies.
Local Councillors New Dilemma. Faced with these pressing concerns, councillors must now decide; will tomorrow’s headlines read “Councillors Prevent Electrocution” or “Overflowing Pods Finally Emptied”? Or, more likely, with Xmas on the way, will they spend 45 minutes debating the colours of fairy lights, before returning to their other places of employment.
But keep in mind the writings of St Matthew 6:24 on double jobbers councillors, quote; “No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he will be loyal to the one and despise the other”
Twenty one New ‘Storm Names’ have been revealed for the 2025–26 weather season.
The new list, chosen entirely from public submissions, also honours cultural figures, loved ones – and even heavy snorers.
Same will be used in the following order:-Amy, Bram, Chandra, Dave, Eddie, Fionnuala, Gerard, Hannah, Isla, Janna, Kasia, Lilith, Marty, Nico, Oscar, Patrick, Ruby, Stevie, Tadhg, Violet and finally, Wubbo.
The second storm of the season will carry a Gothic twist; “Bram,” selected in honour of Dublin-born ‘Dracula’ author Bram Stoker.
More than 50,000 suggestions were sent to Met Éireann, the English Met Office and the Dutch weather service KNMI, for the upcoming season, which begins from today Monday September 1st until August 31st 2026. Each of the three respective meteorological services has contributed seven names to this season’s list and this is the first time all three organisations have relied solely on names submitted by the public. In all more than 10,000 names were received from 4,137 members of the public.
The naming of upcoming storms has proven benefits by raising awareness and helping to save lives since the scheme began in 2015. Naming storms isn’t just about giving them a label; it is about making sure people take notice. When a storm has a name, it becomes easier for the media and public to talk about it; share information; stay safe and in many cases prepare.
This year, which marks 10 years since the storm naming programme began, some of the chosen names carry personal or light-hearted connections.
‘Amy‘ was the most popular submission, with many associating it with loved ones. ‘Dave‘ was suggested as a tribute to “my beloved husband who can snore three times louder than any storm.” ‘Stevie‘ was inspired by singer Stevie Nicks, who famously sang “Oh, thunder only happens when it’s raining” in Fleetwood Mac’s Dreams.
Before compiling the final list, officials considered pronunciation, cultural meaning and whether a name might be somehow controversial.
Last season, 2024–25, saw six named storms; same fewer than the record of 12 experienced the year before.
Note: In line with international convention, the letters Q, U, X, Y and Z are not used in the list. Storms named by other countries keep their names if they reach British, Irish or Dutch shores.
My dear readers, I ask this question in all seriousness, having read that nine Tipperary County Councillors tabled a motion at their end of July meeting, which called on the local authority to halt their use of glyphosate weed killer.
Ballina, Co. Tipperary resident and Fine Gael Cllr. Ms Phyll Bugler, said that she was disappointed to learn that the product was still approved in the EU, until December 2033. She felt that cancer bearing glyphosate weed killer could be entering our drinking water system.
Councillor Bugler, dear lady for God sake stop worrying, sure we here in Thurles use Fairy Dishwashing Liquid and allow it to run down from our sinks and into our drains, to enter our drinking water system all the time; despite the warning on the label which declares “Harmful to aquatic life with long lasting effects”.
Come to think of it, now that may account for the lovely white, frothy, foam substance, often found floating down the River Suir in Thurles!
Read the Procter & Gamble warning on their Fairy Liquidbottle, underlined in red.
Anyway, councillors were quickly informed by their betters, that while they were committed to reducing the use of herbicides and pesticides; glyphosate is not banned in Ireland, and remains approved for use in the EU to control invasive plant species. Since glyphosate is not banned in Europe and since the EU now makes all the laws and requlations governing Ireland; this leaves Simon Harris free to jet around the world pretending he is a world leader.
Senior officials from the German manufacturing chemical company Bayer, (who bought Monsanto’s glyphosate recipe for a mere reported $66 billion in cash), who were listening at the keyhole to this Tipperary council debate, heaved a deep sigh of relief on hearing Tipperary officials support their product.
It is now my belief that the nine councillors involved in this attempted insurgency within the council chamber, have never gotten themselves involved in the insignificant, or dare I say ‘frivolous task’ of washing the dirty dishes.
But sure look, as Charles Dickens once stated in his book ‘David Copperfield’, “Least said, soonest mended”. Let the next generation worry about it, if there is one.
British poet, comedian, songwriter and radio/television presenter MsPam Ayres
They Should Have Asked My Husband. Poem courtesy of the masterly facetious Ms Pam Ayres.
You know, this world is complicated and imperfect and oppressed, And it’s not hard to feel timid, apprehensive and depressed, It seems that all around us, tides of questions ebb and flow, And people want solutions, but they don’t know where to go.
Opinions abound but who is wrong and who is right? People need a prophet, a diffuser of the light, Someone they can turn to as the crises rage and swirl, Someone with the remedy, the wisdom, the pearl…
Well they should have asked my husband, he’s a man who likes his say, With his thoughts on immigration, teenage mums, Theresa May, The future of the monarchy, the latest Brexit shocks, The wait for hip replacements, and the rubbish on the box.
Yes, they should have asked my husband, he can sort out any mess, He can rejuvenate the railways, he can cure the NHS, So any little niggle, anything you want to know, Just run it past my husband, wind him up and let him go.
Congestion on the motorways, free holidays for thugs, The damage to the ozone layer, refugees, drugs, These may defeat the brain of any politician bloke, But present it to my husband, he will solve it at a stroke.
He’ll clarify the situation, he will make it crystal clear, You’ll feel the glazing of your eyeballs and the bending of your ear, You may lose the will to live, you may feel your shoulders slump, When he talks about the President, Mr. Donald Trump.
Upon these areas he brings his intellect to shine, In a great compelling voice that’s twice as loud as yours or mine, I often wonder what it must be like to be so strong, Infallible, articulate, self-confident and wrong.
When it comes to tolerance, he hasn’t got a lot, Joy riders should be guillotined, and muggers should be shot, The sound of his own voice becomes like music to his ears, And he hasn’t got an inkling that he’s boring us to tears.
My friends don’t call so often, they have busy lives I know, But it’s not every day you want to hear a windbag suck and blow, Google? Safari? On them we never call, Why bother with computers…when my husband knows it all.
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