The madam, Ms Aurora Murphy, opened the local celebrity bordello door on Cloontyprocklis Street, Thurles, to find a rather well-dressed man, aged possibly in his early forties, standing on the granite doorstep, outside.
“May I help you sir?” asked Ms Aurora.
“I would like to see Ms Felicity Ryan”, this well-dressed caller replied.
As locals and regular visitors to Cloontyprocklis Street will be aware, Ms Aurora Murphy, as was her usual habit, first slowly scanned twice both sides of the Cul de Sac, anticipating a possible raid from the Criminal Assets Bureau (CAB), before, with some hesitation, she informed the visitor in low tones, “Sir, do be aware that Ms Felicity is one of our more expensive commodities. Perhaps you would prefer something a little cheaper perhaps”
“No, I would like to see Ms Felicity Ryan,” he replied.
Just then Felicity appeared from behind a screen and announced to the man that, because of her fear of Boris Johnston’s attitude with regards to next October’s Brexit deal, she accepted only Euro currency in advance; €5,000 per visit, including value added tax (VAT).
Without hesitation, the man counted out five thousand Euro and gave it to Ms Felicity, before accompanying her upstairs.
One hour later he was gone, but not for long. The following evening, this same well-dressed man was back, and once more demanding to visit with Ms Felicity Ryan.
The Madam, Ms Aurora Murphy, explained that no one had ever come back two nights in a row to visit Ms Felicity Ryan, for no other reason other than she was so expensive, and any hope of a discount would not even be remotely entertained. The price would remain and stand firmly at €5,000 Euro per visit, including VAT.
Again, the man, without hesitation, pulled out 10 crisp notes in denominations of €500, and handed them to Ms Felicity Ryan, before ascending the stairs. One hour later a smiling client had again departed, but again not for long.
The following evening the man was surprisingly back yet again. Every one of the girls employed at the house were astounded that he had come back for a third consecutive night. They arrived at the conclusion that he probably was either a Member of the European Parliament (MEP); a Teachta Dála (TD) or a Banker; with some even suggesting that he could be an Irish Water executive. Once again, without a word, he paid Ms Felicity in full and in advance, before again ascending the carpeted staircase.
Later, just before he left and as he enjoyed a quick snort of cocaine through a rolled €50 Euro note; Ms Felicity Ryan decided to indirectly question the man, “No one has ever been with me three nights in a row”, she smiled, “Where do you hail from may I ask?”
” I’m from Marino, Co. Dublin”, the man replied.
“Really”, said Ms Felicity, her eyebrows raised, “What a coincidence, I believe I have a family member whom I haven’t visited recently, still living in Marino, Co. Dublin”.
“Sure, I know that”, the well-dressed man replied, “I am a solicitor and handle the affairs of your now deceased unmarried sister. It was she in fact, before her death, who asked me to deliver your €15,000 inheritance, preferably in person.”
The Moral of This Story:
It is not just death and taxes that remain a certainty in one’s lifetime, but also the possibility of being screwedby a Solicitor.
Teacher: “Paddy now listen carefully; if I gave you 2 rabbits, then another 2 rabbits and then yet another 2 rabbits, how many rabbits in total would you own?”
Paddy: “Seven Miss”.
Teacher: “No Paddy, you are not listening. If I gave you 2 rabbits, then another 2 rabbits and then 2 more rabbits, how many rabbits in total would you have in all?”
Paddy: “I would have seven rabbits Miss”.
Teacher: “OK, I will put it to you differently. If I gave you 2 apples, then another 2 apples and then another 2 apples, how many apples in total would you have?”
Paddy: “I would have six apples Miss”.
Teacher: “Excellent. Now lets try this again. If I gave you 2 rabbits, then another 2 rabbits and then 2 more rabbits, how many rabbits in total would you have?”
Paddy(Counting on his fingers): “I would have seven rabbits Miss”.
Teacher (Now annoyed): “Paddy in the name of God, where are you getting your seven from?”
Paddy: “Well I feckin already have one rabbit at home, Miss”.
Nearly 2,000 Gardaí are being drafted in for just one day, into Doonbeg Co. Clare, to protect a 400-acre property and its two owners. This one-day-event will cost the Irish tax payer nearly €11million Euro, when Defence Forces and local authority costs are taken into account.
Irish Army Ranger snipers backed up by elite Garda units will patrol the golf course itself.
US President Mr Donald Trump, aged 72, and his 49-year-old wife Mrs Melania Trump will arrive into Shannon Airport on the morning of Wednesday June 5th next and will meet with our Irish Taoiseach Mr Leo Varadkar at Shannon Airport, before heading to his Doonbeg hotel for a game of golf.
Meanwhile, Back Here In Thurles
Meanwhile, back here in Thurles, (according to our hidden cameras), two days prior to our local election, and for the first time in 5 years; staff employed by Tipperary Co. Council, bet down the wild marsh grasses and willow saplings on the river Suir near Barry’s Bridge. We understand that same were seen to pose a “Clear and Present Danger” to some outgoing councillors; latter who feared that snipers could hide, totally unseen, in the dense undergrowth, as same councillors paraded, grinning, around Liberty Square, totally unprotected and without a Garda in sight.
Would not this same €11million Euro have been better spent on a Ring Road for Thurles? This will be the burning question, here in Thurles Town, this morning; well it probably will be when everyone eventually wakens up.
“It’s official, I can now formally announce to all that my nephew David, the sister’s eldest lad, has decided to run in the local Templemore / Thurles Municipal district elections, next Friday”, said Mikey Ryan.
We were above in the Arch Bar in Liberty Square, last night when Mikey broke the news, causing not a few patrons to cough into their gin and tonics.
“That’s the qualified electrician”, said I, “begod I thought he had emigrated, like everyone else, to America, Mikey.”
“You are indeed correct my friend” confirmed Mikey, “sure, he got ‘the start’ as an electrician with the US Prison Service over in Florida. Sad to say he got sacked during his first week. He refused to service the electrodes on their electric chair. Mind you, he would still claim that in his professional opinion that chair was a walking death trapif anyone sat on it. No, he is home again now, working the black economy, as an electrician, but hoping to fool enough people into giving him a job as a local councillor to earn that extra €17,000 plus expenses etc. for doing feck all.
“Well, you know”, said I “we the great oppressed people of Ireland are allowed, once every five years, to decide which particular county councillors we want to represent us; to suppress us even more. It’s an old tradition going back to the early 1900’s, demonstrating that democracy is alive and well in rural Ireland.
“You probably won’t believe this”, said Mikey in hushed tones,“but our David swears it’s true. He was out canvassing the other day and as he walked along the river walk at the back of Thurles Shopping Centre, didn’t he come across a lamp partially buried in the bank. He rooted the lamp out; gave it a rub to remove the slime. Then in the flash of an eye, didn’t a Genie appear, informing him that he had been granted one wish”.
Mikey went on to explain; “Knowing that the local elections were coming up, David thought long and hard for a minute, as indeed one would when found in the presence of a Genie. Wondering what would best benefit the town of Thurles; he eventually made a choice. I want to live forever he informed the Genie. No way said the Genie, Union Rules, only God is allowed to grant eternal life”.
Mikey continued, “OK, says our David, I’ll rephrase the text of that wish, I don’t want to die until after Thurles gets funding for that long-promised Ring Road and certainly not beforeLiberty Square gets its upgrade.
“Damn it, you’re a crafty little fecker“, said the Genie to David, before granting him his wish. Now surely that same shrewdness and cute-whorish activity is what’s needed in Tipperary politicstoday. I reckon he deserves my No.1″, continued Mikey.
” Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and sorry I could not travel both And be one traveller, long I stood and looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth.”Robert Frost
“Well it’s as I see it”, said I, “Thurles voters next Friday morning will stand like the poet Robert Frost did in his Yellow Wood; with one path leading to downright despair and utter hopelessness and the other path leading to total extinction. So, let’s hope we have the foresight to make the correct decision between the only two choices on offer.
“You won’t believe it”, said Mikey Ryan, “but as true as Santa Clause, didn’t I run into Beyoncé Murphy over in Templemore about an hour ago. She swore she was crossing the local petrol station forecourt, just before I pulled in, and you will never guess who she met”.
“Give me a hint”, said I, “or better still surprise me”.
Now, to be quite honest and not wanting to be unkind, but had I realised Mikey Ryan would end up sitting in the next chair, having his hair and eyebrows cut in “Pat The Barber”; you know the place I mean, there beside the Suir, on Emmett Street, close to Barry’s Bridge and the bridge Castle; I would have cancelled that badly needed personal haircut until slightly later in the day.
“He came in driving this state-of-the-art Mercedes-Benz, into the petrol station she told me, and furthermore she confessed to nearly wetting her last pair of Calvin Klein thongs with the pure excitement of this encounter”, said Mikey, “Now go on, guess who it was?”.
“Well was it the Minister for Transport Shane Ross”, said I, “I heard he was down here closing shop on rural publicans”.
“No”, said Mikey “sure the Irish transport minister knows nothing about motor vehicles and even less about publicans, and according to what I hear, he never sat his driving test. No, you’ll never guess, it was the great Rory McIlroy, the golfer, heading for Thurles Golf Club“, said Mikey.
“Oh, you’re very welcome to Tipperary Mr McIlroy, says Beyoncé Murphy, in an excited squeaky voice, having recognised his fizzog from her flat screen television”, Mikey continued.
“Now according to Beyoncé, Rory gave her the ‘twice over’, if you know what I mean, as he bent forward to grab his petrol nozzle. In doing so, two golf tees fell out of his shirt’s top pocket, onto the tarmac.” continued Mikey.
Now from what I knew myself about Miss Murphy, while she was well known in some ball playing circles, however her knowledge of sport could be best described as non-existent. But enough said and personally I wasn’t surprised when Mikey informed me that Beyoncé had asked “What are those two things for?”, as she quickly moved closer to assist with their recovery.
Mikey Continued, “They’re called tees” replies Rory McIlroy with a smile.
A curious and somewhat confused Beyoncé now asks, “Well, what on the God’s green earth would you be using them for Mr McIlroy?
“They’re for resting my balls on before I drive on the golf course,” replies Rory.
“Feckin Jaysus,”, says an enthralled Beyoncé, “Doesn’t Mercedes-Benz think of everything.”
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