In a sign of growing tension in Dail Eireann (currently closed for a 12-day St. Patrick’s Day holiday to “save money”), Fine Gael leader Enda Kenny celebrated St. Patrick’s Day outside the locked gates of Leinster House this morning by tabling a controversial bowel motion to have An Taoiseach Brian Cowen and Finance Minister Brian Lenihan taken to Kilmainham Gaol, stripped naked , dunked in a VAT (Value Added Tax) of heated cat piss (kindly donated by the Irish Countrywoman’s Association, the provisional ICA) and shot at dawn by a firing squad of rabid junkies with balls of their own shite.
“The tinshun is pulpable,” said Depity Kinny this mirning. “Thirs fir too much of this cliss of ting gowing on in the Dill dese diys”.
Green Party members welcome the move as a timely reminder about the benefits of recycling in a volatile economy, whilst Labour leader Eamon Gilmore greeted the motion with a more cautious welcome, claiming to the house (well from outside on the steps, but later members of the press) that the Fine Gael motion didn’t go far enough at all at all. He claimed that in order to get the economy on an even keel and in an desperate attempt to generally cheer the nation up, the entire current government cabinet, “man woman and child” should be seized in the night, savagely beaten, dragged to St. Stephen’s Green and be forced to fight to the death in a razor-wire cage dangling above a piranha-infested swimming pool of hydrofluoric acid, to the strains of Carl Orff’s ‘O Fortuna’.
As an angry mob gathered in Tullamore to sharpen pikes and slashhooks, ready to advance on Cowen’s country residence in Co. Offaly, members of the illiterati and intelligencia warned them that “while the lights are on, there’s nobody home”, claiming that Cowen is currently holed up in the “White House“, thought to be a pub in Ashbourne, Co. Meath with Barry O’Bama, as part of a St. Patrick’s Day “brainstorming session” to discuss Cowen’s current green card plea (he plans to export himself), and Ireland’s emergency budgie, which will be launched on its first transatlantic flight next month. Inda Kenny may back the emergency budgie, but only if Cowen dresses eight ministers in sackcloth, instead of at Louis Copeland’s gentleman’s outfitters.
The Taoiseach has declined to comment, expect to announce that there would be no St. Patrick’s Day next year, “to save money”.
“People need to take this recession thing seriously”, said Cowen. “They need to remember that when Patrick came from Wales for a rugby match in 428AD, there was no St. Patrick’s Day. We need to return to those times of frugal comforts, misery, low life expectancy, slavery, plagues, and living in wooden stockades in the midlands”.
“With the recession successfully put in place”, he continued “Ireland can become the home of a people who valued material wealth only when they don’t have it and devote their leisure crying into their Guinness; a land whose countryside would be bright with empty housing estates and bungalows, whose set-aside fields and valleys would be joyous with the sounds of CO2-emitting industry, with the romping of sturdy children with handguns and baseball bats, the disappointments of athletic youth, the laughter of scantily-clad, inebriated maidens on Dame St. on a Saturday night; whose firearms would be a replacement for the wisdom of old age. It would, in a word, be the home of a people living the life that God desires that men, and perhaps women, should live.”
(paraphrased from here)
Finance Minister Brian Lenihan’s only utterance, as he returned from a VAT hike in the Mourne Mountains and a shopping spree in Newry was “What? Which government are we talking about now?”. The minister had spent the weekend at the top of Slieve Donard, using Heliographs, Semphore and pigeons to contact the Republic of Ireland. A spokesman for the minister said that he now conceded that he had spent the weekend sending the “wrong signals, and possibly the wrong medium too“.
A spokesmodel for Blather.net stated that the media empire was “taking a very poor view of the situation” and that “the entire debacle is fucking atrocious, and I just got charged seventeen euro for two poor pints of Guinness”.
“Do you get the smell of cabbage?”
More Blather about St. Patrick »
(written by Dave and Damien, with inspiration from Joanne and Frank)
Stinks of cabbage in here lads, where’s the porter?