Thurles Information

In the Arch Bar, Liberty Square, Mick Ryan and Paddy Maher were discussing modern family trends, in relation to sex, marriage, and basic overall modern family values.
“Begorra, I didn’t sleep with me wife before we got married, did you?”  Mick enquired.
Paddy replied, “Bejasus I’m not fully sure Mick, can you tell me what was her maiden name?”

It was his teacher’s discussion on a person’s capacity for understanding, logic, planning, creativity, and problem solving, that prompted Paddy’s 12-year-old son Wayne Eden Maher to probe, “Pa, where actually did my intelligence come from?”
To which Paddy quickly replied, “Without fear of contradiction I can confirm son it was gotten solely from your mother Mary, cause I still have mine.”

Paddy’s wife Mary had left him and prior to her death had sought and been granted a divorce. Deciding on that particular case, in camera, at Thurles District Court, sometime in May of 2014, the Judge had stated “Mr. Maher, I have reviewed this case very thoroughly and having done so, I’ve decided to give your wife €600.00 a week in maintenance costs.”
Paddy thanked the judge stating, “That’s more than fair your Honour, and sure every now and then I’ll try and send her a few Euro’s meself.”

Mary’s tragic death, some weeks’ latter was caused by her putting her hand into an unearthed toaster, while at the same time attempting to fill an electric kettle from an ‘Irish Water’ tap.  Still named as ‘next of kin’ on her medical file, Paddy was duly summoned.  “I don’t like the looks of your wife at all, at all”, said the doctor pulling Paddy aside.
”Not to worry in the least Doc,” said Paddy “If the truth be told, down the years and in bright daylight, sure I never really liked the look of her meself.”

But it was that morning of Mary’s interment in St Patrick’s Cemetery, Thurles, that got Paddy to thinking seriously about his religion. On that morning as the funeral service just finished, a massive clap of thunder filled the air. It was followed instantly by a tremendous flash of lightning, accompanied seconds later by even more rumbling. Paddy looked at the old parish priest, Father John, and remarked, “Well, it looks like she’s feckin arrived there already.”

Today I overheard John and Mikey discussing the world’s state of affairs over a pint or two in The Arch Bar, in Liberty Square, Thurles.

Sure you know the sort of thing being headlined and discussed by both men:- First time buyer mortgage calculators; Donald Trump’s hair; Whether or not Syria was actually an Independent Republic; The need for Bonuses for executives whether working or not in Irish Water, and Multicultural Tipperary.

“You know”, said John “The many foreign emigrants and refugees, who came to make their homes in Tipperary, all seem to have settled in very well; integrating fully into our local communities.”

“True for you John, but sure Tipperary people are easy to get along with”, said Mikey, “But life for emigrants and refugees isn’t all a bed of roses, what with the major language differences and all.”

Mikey continued, “PaJoe my friend, whom you might remember works as a garbage collector, was only explaining it to me last Saturday. It seems he was picking up recyclable litter from wheelie bin’s left out last Monday morning. On finding one bin unusually absent and obviously overlooked; well to his mind at least, PaJoe hops out of his truck, (purely in the spirit of kindness you understand), and goes to knock on the house owners front door, as one would.”

“He gets no immediate reply the first time, however being a conscientious bloke, as PaJoe would be; he again, with ear at the keyhole, knocks and waits. Immediately, after a lot of clearly audible swishing, whispering and scurrying noises, overheard from within by PaJoe, a middle aged Japanese gentleman answers his banging.”

“Harro Sir” says the Japanese gentleman.
“How is she cuttin”, says PaJoe, “Where’s yer’ bin?”
“I bin on toilet,” explained a rather hesitant Japanese gentleman, looking a bit perplexed, and one could claim, even shamefaced. Realising the gentleman had misunderstood him, Mick smiled and tried again raising his voice slightly, “No my good man, where’s yer’ dust bin?”
“I dust been on toilet, I toll you!” says the Japanese gentleman, now looking around him even more embarrassed.
“Listen carefully,” said PaJoe with his usual sheepish grin. “You seem to be misunderstanding me pal.  PaJoe emphasised his question more slowly, “I meant, Where – is – yer – wheelie – bin?”
“OK, OK. “ replies the Japanese gentleman in low whispered tones, “I wheelie bin in bed wiffa wife’s sista.”

“Be God now Mikey you have hit the nail on the head”, said John, “Sure I was in the Ulster bank yesterday to collect me pension. There was just one attractive Asian lady in front of me, and I could overhear she was trying to exchange YEN for EURO’s.  All of a sudden, she becomes very irritated with the bank teller.  To use her own words exactly she asked him, “Why it change? Yesterday, I get two hunat EURO fo YEN. Today I get hunat eighty! Why please it change?”
John continued “The Bank teller tried his best to explain stating, “Fluctuations.”  Be God the Asian lady, smart enough, stared at him angrily for a second or two before replying, “Fluc you bankers, too”.