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Warning As Gardaí Particularly Active In Rural Tipperary

[Another chuckle hopefully for Thurles native Eileen Leen. Good morning Eileen and thank you for your message.]

Mikey Ryan’s wife Caoimhe, was heading for Centenary Thurles Co-Op creamery, on the Templemore road, carrying two churns of fresh milk. She was trotting along nice and steady, seated on her donkey and cart, when without warning her distant thoughts were interrupted, with the haulting of her conveyance by none other than Thurles Gardaí.

“Ma’am”, said the Sergeant, “I’m not going to summons you this time, but I do have to issue you with a warning, as you have a defective reflector on the rear of your donkeys cart”.

“Oh begod”, said Caoimhe,“Faith I’ll let Mikey know about that just as soon as I get home.”

“That’s fine” said the officer, “Oh and by the way one other thing ma’am,  I don’t like the way that one end of the asses reins is lying across the animals back, while the other end appears to be attached to his testicles. In this day and age this situation could be easily misconstrued as a cruelty to animals case, resulting in a court appearance. So best to get your husband to takes care of that reins issue as well”.

The Gardaí left about their business and later that morning, over the 11.00am tea break, having unloaded two churns of skimmed milk for the pigs; Caoimhe tells her husband about her encounter with Thurles Gardaí.

“What exactly did the Sergeant say?” said Mikey.
“He said my reflector was defective” said Caoimhe.
“It’s all these bloody new European Union (EU) safety farming rules and regulations brought in” said Mikey, “Still no problem, sure I can fix that in a few minutes; now was there anything else?”.
“I’m not really sure exactly”, said Caoimhe, “these uniformed individuals are inclined to fluster me, but I thing he wasn’t too happy about the donkeys emergency braking system.”

Yea, with these new EU rules, sure you’d be truly kept on your toes here in rural Tipperary. So why don’t you drop in some time, sure there’s always tae in the pot.

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Thurles Well Known Resident Arrested By Gardaí

Well known Thurles resident, Mr Mikey Ryan, was arrested last week, as he returned from a trout fishing expedition, on the banks of the river Suir, near Boherlahan, Holycross, Co. Tipperary.

Speeding in an old battered car and coming up to Holycross Bridge, a member of An Garda Síochána stepped out armed with a ‘Radar Speed Gun’ forcing Mickey to brake heavily and come to a screeching halt.

“Well Sir”, said the Garda, “Are you aware that you were travelling at 87km/h in an area designated as suitable only for speeds of 50km/h.

“Begorra, you actually know what speed I was going”, said Mikey, “Isn’t modern technology great”.  The Garda stuck his head through the window sniffing for the possible presence of consumed alcohol on Mikey’s breath; however, all he got was the stench of his fish catch and rotting fish bait.

An image of two fat trout, freshly fried, began to materialised on the Garda’s inward eye. This illusion further grew to include a large side portion of grilled cabbage wedges with spicy lime dressing. His mouth watering at the possible prospect, so the young Garda decided to ‘chance his arm’, in the hope of organising a possible alternative to issuing Mikey with a hefty fine.

“It’s 4.00pm on a Wednesday, which leads me to believe, Sir, that you are currently unemployed”, stated the Garda, “Which in turn leads me to believe that you probably won’t be able pay the summons I am about to issue”.

“I’ve got a job”, said an indignant Mikey, “Now it wouldn’t pay as much as a those working in the public sector, but nevertheless it pays a great deal more than the minimum wage”.
“What job would that be”, asked the Garda in disbelief.
“I’m a professional 24 hour, round the clock, Rectum Stretcher”, said Mikey.
“What the hell is a rectum stretcher”, queried the Garda.
“Well”, said Mikey, “It’s simple; when consumers want my services, they call me to their homes and I attend at the stated time, to stretch rectums. Depending on their precise instructions I stretch some rectums six inches, others 12 inches, others two feet and a few as big as six feet even in length”.

“Six feet”, snorted the Garda, “What the hell would you do with a six-foot asshole?”
“That obvious surely”, said Mikey, “You give it a Radar Speed Gun and stick it at the end of Holycross bridge at 4.00pm on a Wednesday afternoon”. 

Mikey is expected to be released from Portlaoise any day during the next three months.

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Thurles Stuffed Olives Incident Explained

The Arch Bar, Liberty Square in Thurles had barely opened its doors, when Mikey Ryan entered its welcoming portals.

Without so much as a ‘good morning’ or a ‘how are you’, Mikey demanded ” A large Martini.”

The Martini now presented; before consuming it, Mikey removed the accompanying ‘Pimiento Pepper Stuffed Olive’ from his drink, before carefully lodging it into a small glass jar, which he had removed from his inside pocket.

Two minutes later Mikey ordered another Martini and proceeded to carry out the same procedure; removing the olive from his drink to the small glass jar in his inside pocket.

After about an hour, now full of Martini’s, and with the glass jar tightly packed full of stuffed olives, Mikey retreated from the licensed premises.

“Well”, said an American tourist, who had been carefully watching Mikey, “Sure I never saw anything as peculiar as that!”

“So what’s so peculiar about it”, replied the barman, “Sure didn’t his wife send him out to get a jar of stuffed olives.”

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Tipperary – The Place – The Time – Thurles

“Historians have failed miserably to record notable facts, particularly regarding significant happenings in American history”, said Ethan Fernandez a Spanish American tourist who was visiting Thurles last week.  Mr Fernandez was having lunch in the Arch Bar, in Liberty Square, and was querying what holiday makers actually got up to in rural Co. Tipperary.

Regular customer and local historian, Mikey Ryan just happened to be in for his normal liquid lunch, when he heard the verbal query, aimed at no customer in particular, issue from the lips of Mr Fernandez.  “Begod”, said Mickey, “It’s not widely known, particularly in America, but the British Royal Family actually originally came from this neck of the woods.”

And so the conversation began; “You here in Ireland will not be aware that Geronimo, the once prominent leader and medicine man of the Bedonkohe band of the Chiricahua Apache tribe, in his teenage years, having proven his bravery, was ordered to choose a wife”, began Mr Fernandez.

“He searched carefully through his village, eventually choosing the most beautiful of squaws (Squaw meaning ‘woman’) by the name of Chee-hash-kish and a couple of days prior to his wedding day, he rode his pony from ‘Turkey Creek’ to the ‘Indian Rock’ trading post, informing the proprietor that; “I am marrying the most beautiful squaw in my tribe and I wish to purchase a very special wedding gift for her.”

Mr Fernandez continued; “The trading post proprietor thought carefully, before suggesting a large soft buffalo hide, Now price agreed and purchase made, Geronimo following his wedding, rolled up in his buffalo hide each night with his new squaw.”

“Soon Geronimo, because of his continued bravery, was allowed by his tribe’s elders to take a second wife. Once again he searched carefully through his village, eventually choosing the most beautiful of squaws available; her name Heavier-than-air.”

“Once again, some days prior to his wedding, Geronimo galloped his pony to the ‘Indian Rock’ trading post, informing the proprietor that; “I am marrying the most beautiful squaw in my tribe and I wish to purchase a very special wedding gift to present to her.”

In an atmosphere in the Arch Bar, where you could hear a pin drop Mr Fernandez continued; “Aware of the gift to his first wife, the trading post owner suggested a beautiful bear hide, which Geronimo eagerly accepted”.

“As every historian is aware Geronimo went on to become the Chief of his Indian nation, thus earning himself the right to select a third wife; her name Zi-yeh. Jumping on his pony, some few days prior to his wedding, he again galloped to ‘Indian Rock’ trading post, informing the proprietor;  “Last month I became big Chief of my Indian nation, I soon will marry the most beautiful squaw in my tribe and I wish to purchase a very special wedding gift to give her.”

“The proprietor offered him a rare tanned hippopotamus hide, the only known article of its type in America, with the promise that it would never wear out. Pleased with his gift he returned to his village to marry his third wife”.

“Some weeks later Geronimo decided to finally settle down, but not before making the conscious decision to start a family. And true to his promise some weeks later all three squaws announced that they were pregnant.  When they gave birth some nine months later, the squaw on the buffalo hide had given birth to a baby girl, while the squaw on the bear hide had given birth to a baby boy. The squaw however on the hippopotamus hide had given birth to twins; a baby boy and a baby girl.”

“Now this Mr Ryan is what mathematical students will not be aware of today, solely due to the dismal failure of historians”, said Mr Fernandez, cutting the air with his index finger, “this important occurrence further confirms the earlier geometrical theory, by the Greek mathematician Pythagoras, who first proved that the Squaw on the Hippopotamus is Equal to the Sum of the Squaws on the other two Hides.”

“Sure, mine is a pint of Guinness”, said Mickey, “that’s if you’re buying.”

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Thurles Man Reports Wife As A Missing Person

Aware that she had failed to feed him on Friday night, and had further failed to bring him his usual fry-up in bed at 10.00 a.m. on the following Saturday morning; Thurles born Mick Ryan now felt it was his duty to officially report his wife as a missing person.

“She went shopping yesterday and has not come home”, said Mick to the interviewing Garda Sergeant.
“What is her height?” asked the Sergeant, raising a biro to record forthcoming information.
“She’d be a bit over five-feet tall, but I’m not sure”, said Mick
“Weight?” asked the Sergeant.
“Don’t know”, said Mick, “She’s Not slim, but not really that fat either”.
“Colour of eyes?” queried the Sergeant.
Mick thought for a few moments; on the few occasions she had allowed him to get close, the lights had been switched off.  “Kind of brown I think. Never really noticed”, Mick finally replied.
“Colour of hair?” asked the Sergeant checking his standard missing persons sheet.
“She changes it every month, but I do believe it might have been a kind of a piebald brown last week,” said Mick.
 “What was she wearing?”, asked the Sergeant, rapidly coming to the realisation that efforts to find Mick’s wife, were indeed going to be difficult.
“She could have been wearing pants”, said Mick, “or maybe a skirt or no I think I remember her in shorts, but I don’t know exactly.”
“Was she driving any kind of a vehicle?” the Sergeant asked.
“She took my new Ford Kuga.” Mick replied
“Describe the vehicle?” asked the Sergeant:
“It was a new Ford, navy blue KUGA with sports body-styling kit and lowered suspension with ‘Absolute Black’ alloy wheel design. It had machined alloy pedals, a special sports steering wheel, branded scuff plates, unique sports seats offering the driver a position of command and comfort. Equipped with remarkable technologies and advanced safety features. This Kuga was designed to be as cost efficient to run as it was a pleasure to drive. Sure, it cost me the bones of €30 thousand”, replied Mick, his body now physically trembling, as tears gushing down his face.

Take it easy Mr Ryan,” said the Sergeant, “We’ll find your vehicle”.

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