Last month’s ‘mutha’ of all rows about single mothers led us to do some filthy hack work of our own. And did we what? Blather.net now presents its’ groundbreaking investigative report. Warning: some readers may find the contents of this report forcing them to burn Swatstikas into their foreheads..
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It’s not often that we here at Blather own up to being wrong. In fact if you replaced the words ‘not often’ with the word ‘never’, you might be getting closer to the truth of the matter.
We always suspected that the day would come. And lo, it has arrived. Steaming into the Blather station with the grim solmenity of a juggernaut full of chemical waste and about as welcome as a pin-prick in a durex, we found ourselves this morning sitting ashen-faced, staring glumly at our muesli and generally wondering where it had all gone wrong.
So, why the Mea Culpa? Well, the Kevin Myers ‘Bastards’ debacle got us thinking. He claimed that Ireland was awash with single mothers, squirting out unwanted babies like hens dropping eggs and that our Government and state were responsible for encouraging this culture of ‘random sprog-dropping’ as it was called by a complete stranger who I met down the pub last week.
It got us cogitating and scratching our collective chins. It got us to thinking that if we were to prove Myers and his army of right-wing, goose-stepping, book-burning, Bush-loving blue-shirts wrong, then we would have to prove ’em wrong.
So we did some digging. We went up some trees. We wore a trilby hat or two. We bribed people. Got people drunk. Slept with people. Met people in dodgy car parks and illegal smoking bars. We got wasted and waylaid. We got temporarily distracted by a bottle of absinthe and then – how the hand trembles at the thought – we made the discovery.
And what was this discovery? What was this earth-shattering, epoch-defining, axis-tilting, scrotum-jangling dicovery?
It was, to be blunt, that Myers was right. I’ll say that again. We were wrong. He was right. The bastard.
We’ll go into the mechanics of this in a few moments, but basically, our intensive investigations, which have employed the complete resources of the entire Blather team, have revealed that Dublin is under grave threat. Under threat from a demonic new subculture of humungo-breasted teenage girls date-raping unsuspecting young men in Dublin nightclubs, in order to get preggers and claim the scratcher.
But wait – it gets worse. Not only are these pubescent succubi bleeding us citizens dry for every cent that we have, but plans are afoot for nothing less than national colonisation. A monstrous, unspeakable army of b*stard spawn are being bred to take control of all government institutions, media and political parties and assume direct control of the country within a twenty year timetable.
This vast conspiracy involves freemasons, lone mothers, liberals, drug dealers, Cork people, welfare recipients, anyone who voted NO on the Nice Treaty and every single Romanian in the country.
Our search began after a tip from a concerned Taxi driver led us to speak to ‘Jacinta’, a 19 year old girl from north Dublin, who claims to be a survivor of a dark, powerful cult movement which is swooping down on unsuspecting Dubliners…
Jacinta has been ‘de-bugged’ to use the lingo of the trade, by a team of crack Government agents who specialise in reintegrating brainwashed teenagers back in normal society. The process is notoriously unpleasant and involves tactics which make Guantanamo Bay look like an amusement park. Several human rights groups have expressed concern over the methods used, citing widespread abuses of ‘re-abductees’ as they are known.
Reports allege such tactics as sensory deprivation (a black bag over the head whilst Boyzone albums play in the background for 14 hours), neuro-linguistic programming (a recording of Minister for Justice Michael McDowell reading all 800 pages of his new Patriot-Act stylee Anti-Social behaviour Legislation) and regular beatings with a copy of an IKEA brochure whilst specialist agents scream the word ‘consume! consume! consume!’ in a hypnotic, screeching impression of Roy Keane.
Jacinta is, understandably, a deeply traumatised girl, whose bravery we can only marvel at. In the time that we’ve spent with her, her frankness and honesty have become an inspiration to all of us. We began by asking her how she got herself pregnant.
“Well, basically, you need to drug em. There’s a few things you can slip them: but none o’ dat date rape shite. It just doesn’t work. For one thing, they just can’t keep it up. Yer much better off slipping a couple of e into their pint. Turns them into horny bastards so it does”
And, Jacinta told us, she was trained not to take any chances. ‘Yeah we’d try and get a good gang-bang going in the toilets, you know? The best thing really. Get about six fellahs in and get them to take turns riding me. Three at a time if possible… The best thing to do was to lie down on the floor and let them all whack off on you. Double yer odds, know what I mean?”
We asked her if she was concerned that she might have contracted any sexual diseases. ‘Fuck no’ she said in amazement, ‘sure me medical card woulda taken care of that anyways… it’s amazing de stuff ye can get for free in dis country’
We asked Jacinta how she initially became embroiled in such activities. She says it all came down to a chance encounter with a charming man, known only as ‘The Romanian’. “Well, there I was in Tamangos, coupla Wooowoos down de hatch like, and den over comes dis fella, foreign lookin fucker like. We get talking ya know, and he’s like ‘I can make it so that you never have to werk again like’ he is, so I sez ‘Ask me flaps’ like. But he sez, ‘come with me like’ he did and so I did like. Anyway, next ting I know we’re in de jacks and I’m screaming ‘Horse it into me big fella!’ whilst he snorts linez o coke off me arse”
After this first encounter with ‘The Romanian’, Jacinta began her initiation into group known only as ‘The Cult’. As is to be expected, details of how ‘The Cult’ is organised are sketchy. There seems to be a basic cell structure – similiar to the structure of most terrorist organisations – four basic members working to an orchestrated plan of action, based on orders given by an unidentifiable superior. One member of the cell is female. Her sworn duty is to get pregnant as fast and as frequently as is possible. The other three are charged with protecting her.
As soon as Jacinta, or any of the other dozens of girls who have joined the cult, give birth, the infant is taken away and the child benefit is applied for and collected where upon it is immediately poured into an offshore slush fund, we believe in Alicante, Spain.
The Cult have been the subject of a five-year international criminal investigation involving the CAB, the FBI, the CIA, MOSSAD and agents from the Vatican who fear that the nefarious actions of ‘The Cult’ in conjunction with the ceaseless sales of Dan Brown’s ‘The DaVinci Code’ are about to usher in nothing less than all out Armageddon.
We’ll keep you posted as we can reveal more.
warning….do not read this without first donning double strength incontinence pants. C
Always loved that word! 🙂
Fuckith me! In twenty years time the sale of Fathers day cards will have hit rock bottom! How the hell will our card shops stay open with not a Father in sight? Please girls keep your knickers on until the wedding night.
we must call for national neutering…
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