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Between you and me (and this is not widely known so keep it to yourself), the outgoing Fianna Fáil /Greens outfit often consulted me here at Thurles.Info for advice on solving some, shall we just say difficult economic issues. Fact is, and if the truth was fully told, I should be running this country, and Dáil Éireann should be moved to Thurles for my convenience.
I just feel it in me water, that the Fine Gael / Labour coalition will be calling me shortly. I expect Dr James Reilly T.D., Minister for Health and Mr Alan Shatter, T.D., Minister for Justice and Equality will be the first to call on Skype one of these days. Dr Reilly will be looking for my views on Nursing homes and Mr Shatter, I expect will be wishing to discuss solutions in solving the problem of our over crowded prison system.
 Of course these two issues are no problem to someone with my superior organisational ability and intellect, and if both of these ministers thoughts were as focused as much as mine, even they could work out the necessary simple solution required.
The answer to both these current problems is to put the pensioners in jail and the criminals into our private nursing homes.
Now readers before your start having negative reactions to my plan, let’s examine the logic and I will firstly discuss, in dept, the benefits to our elderly:-
(1) Old aged pensioners, if put in prison, would have access to showers, hobbies and walks.
(2) They would receive free prescriptions, money, wheel chairs, dental and medical treatment.
(3) They would have constant video monitoring, thus receiving help instantly if they should fall, or require other urgent assistance.
(4) All bed linen would be washed twice a week, and all clothing would be ironed and returned to them, neat and clean smelling.
(5) A guard would check on them every 20 minutes and bring their meals, drugs, cigarettes, mobile phones and daily snacks to the comfort of their cosy cells. (Yes cigarettes are allowed in prisons and no smoking ban exists. Helps to reduce stress you understand.)
(6) Residents could entertain family and friends who visit, in a special visiting suite, erected for that purpose.
(7) The more active could access the library, the gym or use the pool, while those less active could attend spiritual counselling, watch HD colour TV or be wheeled into adult education classes, to advance themselves.
(8) Simple clothing, such as shoes, slippers, Pajama’s etc, would be free on demand.
(9) Free legal aid would be available to each resident, to protect them from siblings intent on selling their houses in their absence. (Well we all know the difference between a ‘Home’ and a ‘House’. A ‘Home‘ is where your children send you, when they want to sell your ‘House‘.
(10) Secure private locked rooms would be available to all, with an outdoor exercise yard, containing flower gardens.
(11) Each senior resident would have access to PC’s, TV’s, Radio’s and could receive free daily monitored phone calls.
(12) There would be a Board of Directors to hear complaints from residents, and the prison guards would have a code of conduct, that would be strictly adhered too.
Next, let’s look at the ever growing prison population problem and the advantages of using Nursing Homes as a correctional facility.
(1) The criminals if moved into Nursing Homes would receive cold food daily.
(2) They would be left for long periods all alone and unsupervised.
(3) Lights would be switched off sharp at 8.00pm.
(4) Showers would only be allowed once a week.
(5) These prisoners would live in tiny unsecured room spaces.
(6) Each inmate would contribute €600.00 per week towards their upkeep.
(7) Inmates on early release would not want to commit further crime in case they would be sent back.
(8) Visiting hours for family member would be limited to a space smelling of urine.
(9) Those upsetting the system would be placed under heavy sedation.
(10) Gang members offering violence to other inmates could be tied hand and foot to beds and wheelchairs.
I have just had a thought, maybe I should open up one of those Political Clinics. Sure I have all the qualifications required. I can smile, remember peoples names, attend funerals, liaise with local active groups, advise clients on how to get the last red cent in social welfare benefits and be a sorting house for pothole filling and providing electric bulbs for street lighting.
I would be brilliant at ‘looking into’ housing applications and planning problems with a view to grant aiding. All I would have to do is writes to the Minister, who would pass my communication to a Civil Servant. That Civil Servant would draft a reply for the Minister to send back to me. I could pass this to my patients/constituents.
This could even give the illusion of me having influence over high profile government decisions, which are in fact far outside and way beyond my reach.
 Just Local Horse Talk Sure It’s Just Horse Talk:
The American tourist was driving in Thurles, County Tipperary, when the engine of his rented car suddenly came to a halt. Getting out of the stricken vehicle the tourist lifted the car hood, hoping to locate the trouble.
Suddenly, a voice behind him said, “The trouble is the carburetor.”
He turned around and could only see an old horse. The horse said again, “There’s probably dirt in the carburetor.”
The American nearly died with fright and hastily dashed into Skehans Pub, in Liberty Square, where he ordered a large whiskey. Having given this unusual animal encounter some thought, he decided to confide in the barman and told Murphy the bartender, what the horse had said to him.
Murphy replied, “For God’s sake, don’t pay any attention to him, everyone around here will tell you, sure he hasn’t a damn clue about motorcars.”
Street Talk:
Three elderly ladies met in Liberty Square on a recent very stormy day. The wind was so strong and loud that they had difficulty in hearing each other.
Mrs Brown said, “It’s windy, isn’t it.”
Mrs Ryan said, “No it isn’t, it’s Thursday.”
Mrs Kennedy said, “So am I, let’s go and have a drink in HQ nightclub!”
Sure nobody cares if you are miserable, so you might as well be happy and have a laugh!
 It’s April 10th 2011 and the sun is beaming brightly over our Tipperary landscape, spreading 21°C of warmth, on this the 3rd anniversary of the visionary prediction’s of Fianna Fáil’s Mr Donie (Daniel) Cassidy, who in 2008 warned the Irish Nation that house prices would increase by at least 25% higher than then existed in 2008.
Happy ‘Donie Cassidy Day ‘ to all you property speculators, who now feel that those of us who were careful with our spending, should now pay for your extravagances.
From a local perspective, a report in the Irish Independent claims that Tipperary North TD Michael Lowry has been at it again, striking secret deals with two former Taoisigh. During his time propping up the Fianna Fáil governments of Bertie Ahern and Brian Cowen, the Tipperary North TD was given the task of doling out three positions on State Boards to his favourite supporters. Of the Ministers in cabinet at the time, only the two Taoisigh knew the full details of these special deals. Mr Lowry defends controlling these three posts he was allocated. It appears that unlike the filling of other public situations vacant, a nod and a wink from a politician can replaced PublicJobs.ie and the usual basic requirements to attend for interview with updated Curriculum Vitae.
Speaking of salary’s and expenses, readers note that more cuts to Social Welfare look likely, after Department of Finance briefing documents indicate that savings will have to be made on welfare expenditure. The documents are understood to state that there is little justification for high earners receiving social welfare, through children’s allowance. Payment of half-rate Job-seekers Benefit or Illness Benefit to recipients of One Parent Family Payment will also come under the microscope. Social Welfare accounts for almost 40 % of all money spent by the Irish state, with €20.6 billion now set aside for social welfare expenditure this year. Meanwhile the head of Eircom will continue to receive his salary of approx €720,000 this year, head of Anglo Irish Bank, latter which lost €17 billion in 2010, will be paid approx €974,000, head of Rehab will receive around €450,000, and head of Aer Lingus will receive -well who really cares knows or cares anymore.
Other Good News.
There is however good news for 30,000 over taxed daily motorists using Dublin’s Phoenix Park. In an effort to impress Queen Elizabeth II, the Office of Public Works is to spend €92,000 to fix the gaping potholes. Rural commuters expect delays as this urgent work begin on Monday lasting for eight to ten days. Gaping craters in Tipperary have not as yet been deemed sufficiently matured enough, to warrant any immediate attention.
One bit of other good news for some lucky individual, this weeks ‘Mid-week Lotto ‘ is heading for €4.5m.
Take risks… if you win, you’ll be happy… if you lose, you’ll be wise.
 Happy Mother's Day Mum, in prison you would get three square meals a day cooked for you.
At home, you cook three square meals a day and try to persuade your kids to eat it.
In prison, you get an hour each day in the yard to exercise and mingle.
At home you get to clean up the yard.
In prison, you get to watch TV.
At home, you get to listen to your children fight over the remote control.
In prison, you can read whatever you want and attend college for free.
At home, you get to read school readers starring Dick, Jane, and Spot and worry about how to send your adorable brat to college, while still being able to eat for the next twenty years.
In prison, all your medical bills are free.
At home, you have to pawn your mother’s jewelry and fill out large amount of insurance papers in the hope that a doctor will see you before you die.
In prison, if you have visitors, all you do is go to a room, sit, talk and then say good-bye when you are ready to go.
At home, you get to clean for days in advance and then cook and clean after your guests and hope that they will one day just leave.
In prison, you can spend your free time reading or writing or just hang out doing nothing in your own free space all day.
At home, you get to clean your space and everyone else’s space, and what the heck is free time again?
In prison, you get your own personal toilet.
At home, you have to physically hold the bathroom door shut in order to keep family members from standing over you demanding to know how long till you’re done, so you can do something for them.
In prison, the prison laundry takes care of all your dirty clothes.
At home, you get to take care of them yourself, plus everybody else’s, and get yelled at because somebody’s favorite shirt isn’t clean.
In prison, they take you everywhere you need to go.
At home, you take everybody else where they need to go.
In prison, the guards transport all your personal effects for you and make sure nothing is missing.
At home, you have to lug around everybody else’s stuff in your purse and then wonder who went into it and took your last dollar.
In prison, there are no screaming or whining children or spouses asking you to do something else for them, or screaming at you because you didn’t.
Happy Mother’s Day all you mums, where would we all be, only for you.
I wouldn’t have been in Monk’s public house in Mitchel Street, Thurles, at that time on a St Patrick’s Day, in the first place, were it not for the wife.
Let me explain. There I was sitting peacefully at home checking the ‘Situations Vacant ‘ column in the Tipperary Star, intent on heading for the Thurles parade, when she swooped like a bird of prey.
Moving quietly in from behind, the ungrateful wretch savagely cracked me on the back of the head with, of all things, the good large metal frying pan I had bought her as a birthday gift.
Now, yelping in excruciating pain, I politely asked,”What was that for?”
With a face on her that was reminiscent of a bulldog chewing a wasp, she replied, “That’s for the piece of paper I found with the name Roseanna written on it, just before I threw your trousers in the wash?.” Dodging her next swing I quickly explained, “You stupid woman, remember yesterday when I went to the Thurles races, ‘Roseanna’ was the favourite running in the 4.30 Machlochlainn Road Marking’s Kinloch Brea Chase.”
She halted on her downward swipe with the pan, delaying what was designed to deliver that final killer blow and from the corner of her eye, I foolishly believed I had caught a slight glimmer of possibly guilt, mixed with a tinge of remorse, for this, her sudden and unwarranted outburst.
Music Courtesy of Sharon Shannon and Mundy.
Now dissecting every word of my explanation, carefully like a female Sherlock Holmes, she slowly turned and walked off to continue her housework, leaving me with what I now recognise as being a ‘false sense of security.’
I use the word ‘false ‘ deliberately because about thirty minutes later, as I dozed in the comfort of my own favourite arm chair, digesting the corn beef and cabbage that I had eaten earlier, she struck again, this time more violently, with the same ‘birthday present.’
Jumping up half dazed, but with the presence of mind, to put the kitchen table between her and me, I yelled. “You ould bag, What’s that for this time?,” She sneeringly replied, as she swung again “Your favourite horse just rang on the phone.”
Despite severe concussion, but in the interest of instinctive self preservation, I made a quick exit via the open back door and keeping an eye on my rear flank, for fear she should make another sudden sneak attack, I fled in retreat to the sanctuary of the Monk’s pub.
I knew I would be safe there until she cooled down, as the wife has been barred from this fine licensed hostelry since I foolishly hosted her last birthday outing. It was on this annual occasion that she, to my great public embarrassment, seriously assaulted the landlord. It was some casual remark he had made, in her ear shot, during a perfectly civilised conversation on the popular topic ‘equality of the sexes.‘ It was generally agree by all the men who dragged her kicking, biting and screaming off the unfortunate bruised and bleeding landlord, that her sudden attack was totally unwarranted. What the poor man had said, during the course of his deliberation on that topic was a fair point “If God had wanted women to be equal to men, he would have given them brains.”
Now nursing a pounding head ache, I straightened the bunch of shamrock in the pen pocket of my jacket and ordered a slow pint, while surveying the almost deserted ‘snug.’
Continue reading How Was St Patricks Day 2011 In Thurles For You
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