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Mrs Majella Brown, a 70-year-old Thurles woman, having received her free medical card, went to visit her local doctor. Previously she could not have easily afforded the contemptible €65 demanded for the usual 5 minute consultation with her physician, but now thanks to her free medical card, she arrived to the surgery to seek advice on how to revive her husband’s libido.
Having considered her husband’s age and state of health from previous available medical records; the doctor prescribed a well-known product, latter readily obtainable to all medical card holders and known as ‘Viagra’.
“It simply won’t happen, not even a chance”, a dejected Majella informed her friend Betty, in somewhat low tones half an hour later, over a large G & T, in the corner of the Monks Public House, Mitchel Street, Thurles, “Sure it’s me best to get him to take his Type 2 Diabetic tablet in the morning”.
Betty gave Majella one of her renowned knowing smiles, “Not a problem”, said she “Try giving him a Tipperary Viagra”.
“What the hell is a Tipperary Viagra?”, Majella queried.
“It’s Viagra dissolved in his morning tae”, said Betty, with a knowing nod “Believe me I have had the need to used the method meself on a few occasions, on my own ould lad, before he died; God be good to him. Sure, trust me, Majella even without his forbidden use of sugar, he won’t even taste it”.
Having promised to give it an immediate try, Betty called on Majella some days later, for a progress report.
“Well, how did it go?” she asked with a knowing smile.
“Oh faith, it was terrible”, whined Majella, in vocal tones more akin to a hired ‘keener’ (wailer) at a west of Ireland wake, “It was simply unspeakable I tell ya; for the past two days I’ve been totally beside meself!”
“Oh, no! What in the world happened?” queried Betty with a look of tragedy about to set in.
“Well, I did the deed, you know what I mean, just as you advised; but to be sure of outright success on the day, I actually put three tablets in his morning tae, and sure he drank the lot”, said Majella. “Well they literally took effect immediately; he jumped straight up out of his chair, with the smile of an evil Satan on his face; a twinkle in his eye, and with one fierce swoop, with the back of his hand, he resigned the cups, saucers and cutlery; previously laid out on the table; to a flight across the room. He grabbed me from behind, ripped me clothing to tatters, before committing an act of passion there and then, right on top of the highly polished table. ‘Twas truly the stuff of nightmares, I can tell ya Betty; yes and the stuff of a frenzied nightmare at that.”
“What was so terrible about that?” asked Betty, “Wasn’t the experience good?”
“Feckin hell, I do declare it to be the best experience I’ve had since my late-night drunken encounter in the back seat of Paddy Ryan’s Ford Anglia; way back in the late 1950’s”, said Majella, “but there is one major regrettable drawback which has kept me confined here to the house; sure I won’t be able to show me face in ‘Ryan’s Daughter’ Restaurant, in Rossa Street, Thurles, for many a year to come.”
 Cathedral of The Assumption Thurles. Having just scooped the EuroMillions jackpot worth €28.9m; Thurles native Paddy Meagher, after much consideration and deliberation, decided to travel abroad.
Following a visit to Bowe Travel, a travel agency, situated at Friar Street, Thurles, it was decided he should undertake a European tour.
His first stop was the ancient city of Rome. With an interest in church architecture, Paddy went to view the Cathedral of St. John Lateran, latter the official Cathedral of Rome (not St. Peter’s as commonly believed) and the seat of the bishop of Rome, the 266th pontiff, His Holiness, Pope Francis.
Attached to a polished marble column Paddy noticed here, a golden telephone. Amazed that a telephone was needed inside a church, of all places, he queried why it was thought necessary. A passing English speaking priest informed him that it was ‘a direct line to Heaven’, and if he wished to make a call it would cost ‘€500 for a strictly 3 minute duration’. Despite his newly acquired wealth, Paddy declined what he believed as an unnecessary extravagance.
Indeed Paddy’s miserliness and penny-pinching behaviour is often openly discussed here in Thurles. How he had come into the possession of a lottery ticket in the first place was considered a mystery; for certainly he, himself, had never purchased one. It was reckoned that the English, seven sided, large 50 pence coin was designed so as to remove same from Paddy’s fist, using a size 12 spanner.
His meanness was not just publicly displayed by his insistence that a fork be always kept in his sugar bowl, but on one occasion, when heading out to the Arch Bar, Liberty Square, here in Thurles, he had turned to his wife Mary, in front of neighbours, advising that she should put on her hat and coat.
“Awe Paddy” said she, “that’s nice; are you taking me out to the Arch Bar?’
“Nah”, replied Paddy, “I’ve just switched off the central heating; sure there is no need to be wasting oil while I’m out.’
Now as Paddy travelled to each of the major cities in Europe, he continued to see these same golden telephones installed in the Cathedrals where he visited. Always he queried the cost and always the reply came back; “a direct line to heaven for 3 minutes at a cost of €500”.
On returning to his home town of Thurles, in Co. Tipperary; having finished his European tour, Paddy went to the 11.00 am. Mass in the Cathedral of The Assumption, Cathedral Street. Walking through the ornate facade, he discovered that as part of recent beautiful restoration work, here also was now installed a golden phone, attached to one of the old magnificent polychrome marble colonettes. A sign underneath the phone read, “Call Heaven Direct – 3 Minutes – 25 Cents”.
Disbelieving the sign, Paddy called over to the Parochial House across the road. “Father”, said he, “I have travelled extensively all across Europe and I have seen numerous golden telephones in numerous Cathedrals in other countries, but the price for a 3 minute call has always been €500. Can you explain why the phone in Thurles is only .25 cents?
Smiling the priest stated, “Paddy remember you are in Thurles now, sure it’s the price of a standard local call”.
A long standing, competitive member of Thurles Golf Club was involved in a serious car crash some 12 months ago and was rushed by ambulance to University Hospital Limerick.
Just before being put under anaesthetic, his surgeon (as surgeons do), popped in to see him prior to his necessary and impending surgical procedure.
“I have some good news and some bad news,” says the surgeon. “The bad news is that I have to totally remove your right arm!”
“Oh God no!” cries the golfer. “My golfing is over! Please Doc, what’s the good news?”
“Well, the good news is” said the surgeon, “I have an available fresh doner part to replace it with; however it’s a woman’s arm and I will need your express permission before going ahead with any future transplant.”
“Do your best doc,” says the golfer, “I don’t care, as long as I can play golf again.”
The operation went well and one year later the golfer was again out chasing that little white ball at Thurles Golf Club. Out also one morning just happened to be his surgeon.
“Hi, how’s that new arm?” asks the surgeon.
“Just great,” says the golfer. “I’m playing the best golf ever. My new arm has a much finer touch, and my putting has improved immensely.”
“That’s great, I’m so delighted” said the surgeon.
“Not only that,” continued the golfer, “but my handwriting has improved, I’ve learned how to sew and knit and I’ve even taken up painting early morning landscapes in watercolour.”
“Truly unbelievable!” said the surgeon, “I’m so glad to hear the transplant was such a great success. However are you experiencing any side effects at all?”
“Well, just two minor side effects”, said the golfer, “I have trouble parallel parking, and every time I get a sexual urge, I also seem to develop a feckin headache.”
[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.
 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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