It’s a rather surly looking Lethal that greets you as you enter the Conference Room. He scowls at you looks at his pocket watch pointedly and announced “Yer 2 minutes bloody late. Eats is closed until the issue is started, now sit down and shut yer gob already”
He makes repeated shooing motions at you, then picks up a a remote clicks it, then begins to read from a book as a photo appears on the big screen of a decidedly less than friendly looking Leprechaun.
“Of all the Irish fairies, the evil leprechaun, with his hot-temper and spiteful trickery, is probably the best-known internationally, closely followed by the Banshee. Unlike the screamer, who no one in their right mind wants to encounter, ‘the little fella’ has a rather mixed reception. Some would say he’s misunderstood, more mischievous than evil. Others insist he’s a thoroughly nasty piece of work, and best avoided.
And then there’s another group who will set a leprechaun trap to steal his pot of gold. Even the meekest little chap would turn into a spiteful evil leprechaun in the face of such harassment. “
Well I’m here to tell you I’ve had enough o’ the harassment, from the self appointed morally superior by their own judgment determiners of my chances in the hereafter.
For a second time now I’ve been informed that I am beyond redemption and going to hell- by I might point out those from outside of my own religion. ‘Tis bloody sick & tired of it I’ve grown and fed up with worrying over can we make this joke? Will that photo offend someone? Did I find all the typos and proof read all the mistakes or will some anal obliviot with a need to feel superior because spelling and grammar are the only 2 things he’s ever done in life going to send me a rude note?
You want the truth about us? Stop reading the Americanized myth crap and start reading the real Irish legends. The Irish feared running into a Leprechaun as much as they feared the Banshee. We are mischievous and evil, were also cantankerous, miserly and don’t like being put upon my mortals or anyone not showing proper respect for the old ways. That’s the real us. Personally I have been going out of me bloody way to please and appease you mortals by being friendly (relatively) respectful.. even of the idiots and clueless I encounter in ever day life despite how it wears on me.
However in honor of this being my 333rd issue, I’m going half evil, at least for this issue it’s rude crude sass and crass time. Strap yourselves in folks cause todays issue is going to be one wild ride. The brakes are off, my leash has been slipped and I waylaid the censors and editorial staff Monday morning their way into work. No worries they’re safe enough and right after the issue has been up for 24 hours No-name should get a tip on where to go look for them, that is unless Impish pays me to delay that so he too gets a chance to freely express himself and wave his tail rudely at the moral minority as well.
SPEAKING o’ Impish, listen up FLUBBER (as in FLying blUBBER) where ever you’re hiding. I may whine a bit about being cold in temps you’d run the trash out in shorts and bare foot in but there are a few differences between us;
For one, I’ve no 3 tons o’ extra insulation between me and the elements. The 100+ degree days for weeks on end melted any I did have off me long ago. Just as I complain about the ‘cold’, you’d piss and moan about the ‘heat’, hot & cold being relative terms relating to environmental norms you are acclimated to. I’ve been gone from New England and serious winter cold for over14 years now. My blood has thinned as they say and my biological thermostat has altered itself to adapt to my new environment which is HOT AND HUMID 9 plus months of the year. I guarantee you if I stood you outside here in the summer in the shade, we could deep fry french fries in your lard sweat.
Secondly you’re home in Indiana has a couple o’ features mine does not, namely insulation in the walls and a dedicated heating system (furnace) for winter use. My walls are empty, the only insulation being 34 yr. old R12 foam board on the outside of the building under the stucco. My sole heat source, other than my fireplace is the heater coils on the HVAC unit which are designed to augment not be to primary heat source. The outside temp drops below 50 and it struggles to keep this at 65. Not only that but it costs an arm and a leg to heat the place electrically.
Until this summer we didn’t even have insulated windows and while they replaced the door it still doesn’t seal correctly leaking cold air and they didn’t replace the patio slider which is an 8×8 heat sink and also leaks cold air to the point we don’t refrigerate our soda or beer we just line it up leaning against the slider to chill it.
So Póg mo thóin you blue scaled tub o’ CRISCO (fat in the can) and as for the rest o’ you, hang on to your seat folks, ‘cause here it comes, down, dirty and off the bottom of the deck!
Is that a BUS?!
Impish if my response to your mocking my cold weather discomfort upset or hurt your whiney feelings, please fill one of these out…then file it in my circular file box where I’ll be sure to not give it every attention it’s due.
The only reason we don’t already is that God make Irish whiskey, Guinness and Red Heads deliberately to distract us and slow us down from conquering the world.
Pardon me. Just a little demonstrative flexing of my magical and monetary powers.
Oh quitcherbitchen Jerry, I’ve already agreed with you, it could happen to anyone…5 times. Besides its not like I’m naming names!
‘nuff said right there, though I’m tempted to sing ‘Mountains high, Valley’s low’
Hurry up about it and when you’re done go make me a sammie too.
HEY! Gimme a break! I’m working on the other half now!
Twas the Month after Christmas
Twas the month after Christmas,
And all through the house,
Nothing would fit me,
Not even a blouse.
The cookies I’d nibbled,
the chocolate I’d taste,
At the holiday parties
Had gone to my waist.
When I got on the scales
There arose such a number!
When I walked to the store
(less a walk than a lumber),
I’d remember the meals
I had prepared;
The gravies and sauces
and beef nicely rared.
The wine and the rum balls,
the bread and the cheese.
And the way I’d never said,
“No thank you, please.”
As I dressed myself
in my husband’s old shirt,
And prepared once again
to do battle with dirt.
I said to myself,
as I only can:
“You can’t spend a Summer,
disguised as a man!”
So, away with the last,
of the sour cream dip.
Get rid of the fruit cake,
every cracker and chip.
Every last bit of food,
that I like must be banished.
Till all the additional
ounces have vanished.
I won’t have a cookie,
not even a lick.
I’ll want only to chew,
on a long celery stick.
I won’t have hot biscuits,
or corn bread or pie.
I’ll munch on a carrot,
and quietly cry.
I’m hungry, I’m lonesome,
and life is a bore.
But isn’t that what
January is for?
Unable to giggle,
no longer a riot.
Happy New Year to all,
and to all a good diet.
Impish & fat jokes, they just go together like Cops & donuts!
Wonder why we get so worked up over our pot o’ gold being swiped? No its not because of the gold, we can always make, swipe, or con you mere mortals out of more, and right quickly too. No, it’s because of what is generally found on top of our pot ‘’o’ gold that comes up missing with it. See here:
Bet you’d be pretty mad and out for blood if you lost something like that too! Get ole Seamus right riled up it does. See what I mean?
I heard an Indian State Trooper doing this to Impish just the other day.
But mean while here in Texas…
I think Texas wins what about you?
So I was at the range last week and feeling half evil, so I left this label on the fire suppression pull station in the range:
What If Food Was Dirty and Sex Was Clean?
When you think of it, there are only two things you need to make people. You got to have sex. You got to have food. That’s it. You don’t need clothing, shelter, or TV. Okay, maybe TV, but otherwise, it’s sex and food. But for some reason, sex is “dirty”. Maybe God was a Republican. Somebody said, “All right, you want to propagate, go ahead, but only late at night, with all the doors closed, the lights off, the man on top — once a week, and that’s it.”
But not only can you eat the charred decaying flesh of other major mammals, you can do it in broad daylight and invite all your friends to watch: “Hey, Chuck, why don’t you come over on Sunday? We’re going to kill a pig, cut him up, burn him, and eat him. Bring the kids. We’ll have a hell of a time.”
What if they had been switched around? What if, through a simple twist of fate, sex was clean but food was dirty? Our entire culture would change. Food would become a four-letter word.
When people got angry at you, they’d yell out “Oh yeah? Well, food you. Suck cheese you Popsicle slurper.”
Punks in passing cars would flip you the fork.
Flashers would have pizzas strapped to their chests. “Ohmigod. It’s a pepperoni.”
Locker room talk would change. “Hey, man, how’d you do this weekend?” “Two burgers and a bag of fries. Crinkle cut.” “Ooooohhhhhhh, sweet!”
Garlic would be illegal in most Southern states.
Supermarkets would check I.D.’s and charge admission to the poultry section.
Frederick’s of Hollywood would feature peekaboo napkins and day-of-the-week paper plates.
Foreplay would be listed as a menu selection.
Vice squads would conduct raids on backyard barbecues. “All right, put down your meat. Just back away from the buns, mister.”
Vegetarians would be prohibited from becoming teachers and a lot of them would move to the Bay Area.
Hookers would become cooks. You’d be accosted on street corners by plump ladies in day-Glo aprons. “Hey, big boy, looking for a hot meal? Wanna crack some crab?”
Fundamentalist Christians would make meat and potatoes a religious tenet.
Many sexual positions would be found to be carcinogenic.
Parents would tell their children not to play with their food or they’ll go blind.
And most of all…
Kids would remember the first time their mother caught them marinating.
Sheesh! Ya show one pot o’ gold topper and the other one starts whining! ‘You think she’s prettier than me? Well why did you use her picture and not mine?’ Sheesh!
Irish comedian’s open letter to ISIS
An Irish comedian has posted a letter to ISIS on Facebook in response to their video last week listing Ireland as one of their targets.
Finchie Cova’s letter has since been shared more than 23,000 times on Facebook and is proving a hit online.
And why not with gems like this: “What’s this I hear about ye adding us to a list of countries called “The Global Coalition” in some mad 80’s themed propaganda video? Ah lads come on will ya, shtep down from 3 legged horse now for a second and rewind the cassette cuz I think ye got it wrong.”
Anyway, Finchie, who is clearly a man of peace and harmony has one stark warning for the lads in ISIS: “Don’t even think about blowing up Leo Burdocks!!! Consider this your harshest warning!”
He also won’t tolerate our cherished Irish pubs being involved in any skirmishes: “If any single pub is damaged during your short stay here, we will consider this an act of war!!! And we praise to our God Arthur, we will strike down on you with great vengeance and furious anger on those who attempt to destroy our drinking patterns during a time of crises!”
Good on ye bud! You tell ’em!
Here’s the full polemic for your enjoyment.
So after the past few weeks of shite that’s been floating around on Facebook iv tried to stay out of it. But I can’t, not anymore. Finchie needs to speak.
MY OPEN LETTER TO ISIS
What’s the craic lads! I don’t think we have officially met. Finchie here from Ireland, we are that non aggravating, laid back post English island to the west of the bullshit.
So how’s yourself? Been busy I hope. I see from the shallow media outlets and “copy paste” fear posting on social media that ye have been up to your neck in it the past few months. Good for you!
Sorry to be bothering ye boys while ye are busy planning the world’s biggest burning man festival in the name of Alan, (or what ever he’s called) but something has come to our attention to past few days that we need to have a quick “chat” about it.
What’s this I hear about ye adding us to a list of countries called “The Global Coalition” in some mad 80’s themed propaganda video? Ah lads come on will ya, shtep down from 3 legged horse now for a second and rewind the cassette cuz I think ye got it wrong.
First of all, lads were only here for the craic! We have been through too much shite hawking over the past couple of thousand years to be goin all “rouge and shit” and joining in fights we clearly don’t want to be part of. It’s like when a fisht fight breaks out in primary school between Vince and Iano Kelly. Most of us just watch, shout a bit and kick a bin to make noise or whatever, but we don’t bother getting involved (well Vince is English so any sly opportunity for a shneaky kick to the shins and were all over it) we couldn’t be arsed with the hole thing, we’re simply too laid back.
Now keeping that in mind let me let you in on a few tips if you do decide to come over here and piss in our cornflakes.
Don’t judge us on the actions of the lads across the pond. We don’t like that craic. I get that ye have yer fight an all, but dont drag us into it, we don’t give a left bollock for Alan and what he tells ye to do.
Sharon’s law, (or whatever it is) won’t work here. I know a Sharon, and she’s a cunt. We don’t like her either.
Don’t bomb our shit. We just finished building it back after breaking free from the very enemy you also have on your hit list. (if you want tho you can destroy Leitrim, absolute shitehole lads I’m not joking)
We have more than one army. 1 official army (actually went training in north cork recently to prepare for your arrival. And yes north cork is exactly like Damascus, especially fermoy on a Friday night).
We also have a few non official, highly secretive, multi talented armies all with the same name (you get used to it after a while) who hate each other but have one very important thing in common…all mad bastards. Let that sink in
By the way the unofficial armies are all trained in guerrilla warfare. Meaning your fucked. Like actually fucked. Unless you want to buy weapons, then some of them will turn a blind eye to ” the cause” and sell ya a few AKs while you visit.
Don’t even think about blowing up Leo Burdocks!!! Consider this your harshest warning!
If any single pub is damaged during your short stay here, we will consider this an act of war!!! And we praise to our God Arthur, we will strike down on you with great vengeance and furious anger on those who attempt to destroy our drinking patterns during a time of crises!.
On a final note, remember these and you should be fine:
1. Offies close at ten
2. Don’t leave the immersion on
3. PM me for Bono’s address
4. Don’t bomb shit when the toy show is on
5. Start with Leitrim
6. If your looking for virgins you won’t find any on Harcourt street
7. Get a Tesco club card. Trust me.
8. If you want to blow up a stadium, go to Dalymount please.
9. Go to a water protest, they don’t judge you for where your from, just if you pay or not.
10. Finally, if asked for change, eyes down and keep Fucking walking!
So ISIS its good to meet you. Do yourself a favour and us, stay where you are. You don’t want to come here, were not bothered with the issues you have.
But if you do, we will beat the shit out of all of you using mammies wooden spoon, Kilkenny hurlers and the bouncers from the copper faced Jack’s.
Finchie and the rest of Ireland
EDIT: offaly, offaly too!
Wut dat lil kitty doing down der and how it hold breffs so long?
Woman may have been saved by her tight dress
Just when I thought I couldn’t love tight dresses anymore, along comes this true story. Zoe Turner went out dressed in her $55 “bodycon” dress for a night of partying and laughs. However after climbing into a cab, on the way to to the club the taxi was involved in a terrible wreck. The driver suffered a broken neck, and her friends survived with broken arms, eye sockets, and one broken pelvis. However, in Zoe’s case, doctors said that if it weren’t for her dress acting as a corset she more than likely would’ve died.
Incredibly because of how tight the garment wrapped around her body, her bones weren’t able to shatter, break, or pierce her vital organs. “The doctors told me that if I hadn’t worn such a tight dress which held in place my bones as the car impacted, I would have most definitely punctured vital organs as my bones went out of place.”
“I couldn’t believe my dress saved my life. That’s the best [$55] I’ve ever spent.”
Well said, Zoe. And kudos to you for your amazing dress. Let that be a lesson people, tight dresses SAVE LIVES.
Plus it seems to have done her
bodacious bumpers ah…er… fun bags ah…er… personal airbags no disservice either, by keeping them semi deployed and at the ready for easy access in case of emergency. Yeah that’s what I was meaning, of course it was.
Hey Impish! Someone beat you to your 15 minutes of TV fame!
I’ve got to get me one of these…and a bigger body dump!
Lastly before I go (I’ve a full day of being half evil scheduled and our dear darlin’ Diamen has indicated a deep desire to talk a long leisurely walk on/in the naughty side o’ the Leprechaun on top o’ that), there was some talk about the candidates and culling down your protective vote getters in the comment over the weekend in our comment section.
This election season the task seems more daunting than most due to the number of potential Presidential nominees that are going to require (hopefully informed and intelligent) whittling down. I really thought I knew where I stood and who it was that represented my views and beliefs best, that is until I took this quiz:
Try this short quiz to see which 2016 Presidential candidate you side with…
I strongly suggest you devote a few minutes to taking it, answering the extra optional questions as well as perusing the ‘other stances’ answers for ones that might be more closely aligned with your views on the topics. Informed voters are our best chance for not ending up with another 8 year Obamanation situation with either party.
Like I said I was surprised at my outcome:
Carly Forinia was no where on my radar and I had figured Chris Christie and I agreed much more than we did. Likewise I was surprised that Cruiz, Huckabee and Paul were so far up my agreement scale. I never would have guess they’d be north of 75% much less that Hillary would come in well over 50% in agreement with me on anything.
If you’re anything like me you’ll be surprised by your results as well.