|
|
“Thurles roads, take me home,
To the place I belong,
Tipperary, land of potholes, take me home.
Country roads”
(Apologies to the great late John Denver)
The windows of businesses premises in the town of Thurles are looking extremely inviting this festive season and it has also been confirmed, (so do please tell your kids); yes Santa Claus is comin’ to Thurles and the surrounding areas on Christmas Eve. This confirmation comes despite the failure of our local paid elected representatives to get the potholes in our streets, filled before Christmas.
Thurles you must understand is somewhat like Ahch-To Island, the birthplace of the Jedi Order, e.g. situated as we are at the edge of the map, lost in time in a galaxy far far away from Dublin and blanketed in large water-filled potholes.
Nevertheless, Santa has stated that since he spends most of his time on the roofs of houses in order to climb down and up chimneys; deplorable road surfaces in the town of Thurles are not being seen by him as an immediate problem, during this Christmas period.
However, residents of the town, despite seething inside, continue to remain remarkably voiceless on the topic, fearing we understand that if Santa got to hear about this issue, he might fear for the health and safety of reindeer and bypass the Thurles area altogether.
The funny thing about potholes is that they rarely appear if you use a miracle product which was first used some 80 years ago. From memory I believe it was called cement; environmentally friendly; can be recycled and required no expensive adhesive petroleum products. You can even add a black colourant to make it look like tarmacadam.
Speaking Of Thurles Potholes.
A woman some years back went to her priest to confess, “Fr”, said she, “I’ve committed adultery”. The priest forgives her; telling her not to let it happen again.
Within the next month, over 50 people had confessed claiming they had committed adultery. The priest decided that during his next sermon, he would make a statement on this issue. The next Sunday he declared the following:- “From now on, if anyone of you commits adultery, don’t tell me that you did. Instead, tell me something else, like ‘I tripped in a pothole’, for example”. So, from then on people began confessing to the priest that they had ‘tripped in a pothole’.
Years later the priest passed away as a consequence of old age. His replacement Curate knew nothing about the whole pothole issue. Whenever people informed him that they had ‘tripped in a pothole’, he would offer sympathy with the warning, “You really need to watch your step in future.”
Eventually one day, the priest decided to take this issue of potholes up with the local Town Clerk. “Excuse me Sir,” said he one day, “I think you need to examine the issue of potholes and set about making the required repairs to our town’s roads, as many of my congregation regularly keep tripping up in them; almost on a daily basis.
“Oh that,” sniggered an all knowing Town Clerk, who continued to laugh, aware that the priest had no idea regarding the background to this whole pothole episode.
The priest now stared at him before replying angrily, “This is really no laughing matter, Sir. Your wife alone has tripped in some 5 or 6 potholes in just the last 7 days!”
 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.
“I hear that you and the wife have patched things up“, said I to Mikey Ryan, when he approached me quietly for the ‘loan of a score until pay day’, when we met above in the Arch Bar, in Thurles, last night.
I slipped him the €20 Euro note out of public view, under the table and he immediately signalled barman Pat for a small brandy, before informing me that marriage overall was an institution made up of three rings. “Firstly”, said he, “there is the engagement ring, followed by the wedding ring and finally the unexpected suffering”.
“So, what made you change your mind and go back into the bosom of the family home”, I asked, not that I really wanted to know.
“Well”, said Mikey, “I suppose it was my young lad who started me thinking. I was picking him up from the Christian Brothers last Friday, when he informed me that his teacher had stated that in some parts of Africa a man doesn’t know his wife until he marries her. “Son”, Mikey supposedly replied, “Sure that happens in every country”.
Mikey stopped to take a sip from his brandy before remarking on the early morning snowfall and how cold the weather had become.
“Begod, I see you have lost the beard”, said I, “when did you get rid of it?”
“I had it removed by ‘Pat the Barbers’, down beside Barry’s Bridge”, said Mikey “and to be honest that’s another reason for getting back with the wife.”
“You decided to go back to the wife because you shaved off your beard!”, said I scoffing at the very idea.
“No, No, No”, said Mikey, “you’ve got it all wrong. What happened was that I originally walked into that new barber’s shop that just opened, further up the town, and asked, for a shave and a shoe shine. The barber applied the hot towel to my hairy face, and gripped his strop, before honing his cut-throat razor. Meanwhile a very attractive woman knelt down to begin shining my shoes”.
Mikey continued; “You and I should spend some party time together” I said to her with a nod and a wink, to which she replied, “My husband wouldn’t like that.”
“Ah sure tell him you’re working overtime”, said Mikey, “and I’ll make up the few extra quid”, to which she supposedly replied, “You tell him. He’s the one sharpening the straight blade razor.” Having quickly excused himself under some pretext or other, Mikey fled down to “Pat the Barbers”.
“Now with beard cleanly removed”, said Mikey, “I decided that the single life was no longer for me, so home I went. We have since come to an amiable agreement to save our marriage. We take time to go to the Mitchel House Restaurant, Mitchel Street, Thurles, two evenings every week. You can’t beat soft music, a little candlelight dinner, washed down by a couple of glasses of that Mateus Rosé wine. Mind you, she goes on a Tuesday and I go on a Friday.”
“Last Tuesday night” said Mikey, “before she headed out she said to me, ‘look darling, you gifted this to me some 20 years ago on our honeymoon, and it still fits!’ I decided to let it pass, as she was referring to a scarf.
“God help me but I don’t ever envisage getting a divorce; committing murder yes, but divorce, nah”, concluded Mikey.
“The rotation of earth really makes my day.” (Think about this quote. Get It? OK continue on anyway.)
Captain’s Log, Star-date December 6th 2017:-
Tourism Ireland’s senior delegates, envoys and ambassadors, today were described as being somewhat deflated, having launched a failed stratospheric advertising campaign to highlight Sceilg Mhichíl, latter a rapidly decaying rocky outcrop, west of the Iveragh Peninsula in County Kerry, and which played a small role in the latest Star Wars saga, ‘The Last Jedi’.
The Force Awakens
Tourism Ireland’s billboard rose skyward just 33km (20.5 miles) above planet Earth, launched with the help of a weather balloon, while a similar Thurles billboard jetted to an amazing altitude of some 435 km (just over 270 miles) propelled by means of reboost manoeuvres, using a Briggs & Stratton rocket boosted lawn mower engine, one day previous.
 One of the many images captured during the launched Thurles Stratospheric Advertising Campaign, as it headed for the “Dark Side”. One “Black Hole” was located during the campaign, found in a black sock, worn by a launchpad crew member.
A spokesperson for the Templemore – Thurles Municipal District stated that Tourism Ireland’s attempt to be the first to advertise in space had failed miserably, firstly; since it was launched the day after the Thurles space departure, and secondly; no single human or alien had actually viewed the image on the billboard, while it remained in space. This project therefore must be perceived as the greatest waste of taxpayers money (to use the words of Rowan Atkinson in Black Adder) since, “Olaf the Hairy, King of all the Vikings, ordered 80,000 battle helmets with the horns on the inside”.
The Thurles launch however had been viewed, as it flew past, by the crew of Expedition 53, all arsing around on board the International Space Station (ISS). Expedition 53, made up namely by Mr Joe Acaba, Mr Alexander Misurkin, Mr Mark Vande Hei, Mr Sergey Ryanzansky and Mr Paolo Nespoli, were all ordered by Commander Randy Bresnik, to scramble and man their laser weapons, fearing, understandably that they were about to be interfered with by an alien craft from outside our galaxy.
A grinning spokesperson for the Templemore – Thurles Municipal District stated, “The Thurles picture advert, which was launched skyward earlier, featured an image of the Christmas lights in Liberty Square, Thurles, Co Tipperary, and fully demonstrated the fullest commitment yet, that Tipperary Councillors and Politicians from all political parties were fully behind efforts to continue our growth in tourism in the area”. “Demands for access to visit Thurles have been unprecedented since the lights were switched on”, he continued.
The Thurles Stratospheric Advertising Campaign was launched from beside the Stone Man here in Liberty Square, in the town at 3.07 hrs GMT and returned from orbit safely, to exactly the same precise area, at 14.00 hrs; thus landing before our daily traffic-jam of parents had emerged to collect their offspring’s from schools and collages.
God help us and those who manage our public finances, if not “May The Force Be With Us”.
 Dail Bar “When money’s tight and hard to get,
and your horse is also ran,
When all you have is a heap of debt,
a pint of plain is your only man”
(Myles na Gopaleen)
Cork Independent TD Mr Michael Collins has called for all Dáil bars to be shut down, in order to set a good example. Back on September 19th, 2010 we at thurles.info called for all Dáil bars to be shut down in order to set a good example.
There are two bars in Dáil Éireann where politicians constantly generate tabs /slates, or, if press reports are correct, in the case of some of our elected representatives ‘the never-never’ system is in operation in relation to non payment, despite same TD’s bounteous salaries and inflated expenses.
Nobody back in 2010 listened to the views of Thurles.Info and sorry Mr Collins, alas, respectfully it is not likely that anyone will hearken to you either.
Mr Collins quite rightly feels that with the important work going on in the Dáil, a bar serving alcohol should not be allowed on the premises. He especially feels that the proposed current amendments to the Road Traffic Bill by our Transport Minister Shane Ross, will force rural pubs out of business, and the Dáil bar should therefore now close, in order to set a strong example and a precedence in relation to alcohol consumption while in the workplace. Imagine if a TD slipped on the tiles and fractured his ankle in the Dáil, after consuming 5 pints of beer; no, the pain doesn’t bear thinking about.
Mr Collins stated: “Shane Ross wants to shut bars in rural Ireland with his new Bill, but he wants to keep the two Dáil bars open. We hear about thousands and thousands of Euro’s being spent there, with bills left unpaid by politicians. This sends out a very, very bad message to the public, and I feel too much business is being carried on there and it sends the wrong message out to our electorate.”
Sláinte mhaith, Mr Collins, and may you always have a clean shirt, a clear conscience, and enough coins in your pocket to buy a pint.
|
Support Us Help keep Thurles.info online by donating below. Thank you.
Total Donated 2026: €290.00
Thank You!
Daily Thurles Mass Livestream
|
Recent Comments