Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Slums of Dublin...Part15 (Mountjoy Jail.)

"Ma!, hey ma, where’s me sodality suit and pioneer badge, I need to look respectable cause I have to go and sign Decco out of the `Joy today. His 6months sentence is up"...."Will ye shut bleedin` up, I`m tryin` to wash yer oulads` jocks in the sink, and don`t be hangin` round with the Decco bollix, ye know he`s a robbin` fecker. Sure didn’t the Mex Garage have to get all their locks changed after the last time he stole all the tires for the Halloween bonfire!"....I arrive at Mountjoy prison to be met by Decco`s probation officer... a bleedin` posh lookin` mot called Monica (You know who I mean). She looked like one of those posh oulwans that sell perfume in Brown Thomas or Switzers (I apologize for goin` south of the Liffey), and wore an Aer Lingus hostess lookalike suit and a pair of Pretty Polly tights. "Well Well, my dear young man, you`re here to pick up Declan, the poor unfortunate wretch, he`s just a revolving door in this unscrupulous penal system of ours" ......"Wha!"....."And I suppose you`re from East Wall as well, that god-forsaken wasteland that produces a myriad of fodder for the Irish legal system to embark upon an odyssey of never ending cases of misspent delinquent youth!"....."Wha!"...."Your just a product of the slums of Dublin, whose life is foreshadowed by degradation and despair"...."Wha!"...."A miserable existence, tempered with a hankering for the civilized lifestyle south of the Liffey!"....."Wha!"...."Perchance, doth thou dream of the fairer sex, and would that thou partake in a farcical romp, and hey noddy noddy!"....."For Jaysus sake, will ye speak bleedin` English!"......."Well, you know, I`ve been observing your masculine torso, and...well...a f**k it, I`ve got the bleedin` hots for ye, and I`d love a bleedin` ride off ye!"...."Now yer bleedin` speakin` my language. Here, get that bleedin` Aer Lingus suit off!"....She proceeds to reef me by the hair and pull my head down into the "netherworld..."Jaysus, I luv bleedin` talkin` dirty. Any chance ye can bring me on a date to Noctors pub in Sherrifer some time. I heard theres loads of brazzers there and the crack is ninety?" she says....."Only if ye go easy on me mate Decco."...."Sure I`ve been smugglin` him in twenty Woodbines every week for the last 6 months in exchange for a free ride!"...."Jaysus, Ye must be bleedin` mad for sex if yer ridin` that skinny bollix!"...At last me and Decco walk out the front gates of the `Joy as he`s giving the finger to the screws. As we`re walkin` down by the canal, he sez, "Jaysus, I`m gummin` for a fag!"...."Well don`t look at me. I smoked me last Major on the no 10 bus comin` here. Look on the ground for a butt!"...After findin` a butt on the ground, he goes over to this oulwan readin` the Ireland`s Own....."Any chance of a match?"...."Yeah, your face and my arse!"...As we`re walkin` along the North Circular, Decco is tryin` every car to see if there unlocked. "Jaysus Decco! Yer only after gettin` bleedin` out!"....."I can`t bleedin` help it. I just love bleedin` robbin` stuff!"....

Monday, September 18, 2006

Slums of Dublin...Part14 (Peter Marks.)

..Monday morning, I woke up and me noggin was bleedin` spinnin` from all the shandy I had in Noctor`s Pub in Sherriff street last night celebratin` the Dubs` victory in Croker... Ger even got up on the bar and did another strip, but this time all the blue paint was streamin’ down her body (and matched her mascara.)… "Ma, hey Ma!, where`s me wrangler parallels?"...."Will ye shut bleedin` up, I`m tryin` to listen to Marion Finucane on Morning Ireland!" I head into Moore street and see Phil and Mags beside Big Muriel`s stall..."What are ye sellin` today Phil?"...."Teeshirts, and there goin` like bleedin` hotcakes, Here have a look!"....He holds one up to reveal a pair of diddies painted on navy and the other sky blue, and underneath a caption that read ..."Dublin Brazzer 1... Kerry Nil"....It was then I noticed that all the brazzers were wearing them, including Big Muriel, Cross-eyed Eileen, and Mags, and what’s more, the fashion was not to wear a bra for special effect. I even saw two nuns walkin` down Henry street wearin`the teeshirts. "Jaysus, I wish I could meet that brazzer now, I`m bleedin` in love with her", sez Phil. I was about to tell him it was Ger, when I realized mouth-almighty Mags already knew about Susan and Caroline, and she`d really have one on me if she knew about Ger as well. "Here give us one of yer teeshirts for Caroline, I think she`s extra, extra large. I`m goin` to see her in Peter Marks". So off I headed to Peter Marks in Mary Street where Caroline worked as a hairdresser..."Any chance of a free haircut while I`m here, Caroline, I wouldn’t mind a Bowie style...short on top, long on sides?" ..."Here, put yer head back into the sink there `til I wash yer hair!"....and she proceeds to do what she always does to her customers...plop her diddies into me face while she`s pretendin` to wash me hair... “Have ye got yer deposit for the holliers in Butlins?” sez I…”Yeh, I can’t bleedin’ wait, I’m all excireh!”….Off we head to Liffey Travel in Liffey Street to discover that the Butlins package had been sold out…. “Ah4fukSake” sez I to the girl behind the counter… “I’m very sorry but another flyer came into today about a cheap package in Glendalough…Here, have a gander at this!”…..It read thus: For 50 pound only, all-inclusive package in Glendalough, the garden of Ireland, featuring “Deluxe Accommodation (youth hostel) at Lynham’s Pub and Guesthouse. Fine dining (burger and chips) provided by world renowned chef – John Lynham, who graduated from the Chateau de Stew-ah school of cuisine on Mary’s road, East Wall. Personalized tours of the monastic ruins of Glendalough by local historian and tour-guide Aidan Lynham. Customized pints of Guinness with a shamrock design head provided by resident barmaid Brigid Lynham. Live nightly entertainment, featuring international superstar John Aherne. Deluxe coach service (St. Kevin’s bus) leaving from Stephens Green. A free poh-a-tay at Patsy’s Tea house. A free demonstration of turf-cutting by local farmer Eamon Lynham. … “Jaysus, Caroline, that’s bleedin’ magic. Lets go for it!” …. “Bleedin’ right we are!” and she plops down the fifty quid then and there.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Slums of Dublin...Part13 (Croke Park.)

Sunday morning (the day of the Big Match). "Ma, hey Ma, where`s me blue O`Neills shirt?"..."Will ye shut bleedin` up, I`m tryin` to read Micheline McCormack`s Problem page in the Sunday World!"..."Ah jayz Ma, I need it to support the boys in blue!"...So I head over to Sherrifer and Ger`s flat...I shout in the broken letterbox..."This is the Hill 16 supporters club. We want all culchies out on the double!"...I could see Paulie(Pol) and Penelope in the back room brickin`...Then Ger comes running out with curlers in her hair..."Yer a bleedin spacer!...Don`t be scarin` me cousint!"..."Hey, what the f**k are ye wearin` that green and gold jersey for?"..."Did`nt I bleedin` tell ye, Penelope bought the tickets and we`re in the Hogan Stand!"...It was`nt like my Ger to be a bleedin` turncoat. She gave me the eye as if she had something up her sleeve. There was no way I was going let me mates see me walking up Amiens street with 3 culchies, so I got me blue flag and wrapped it around me head like a bleedin` Arab, and borrowed a pair of corporation glasses off Bridie. All four of us went into Cusacks on the North Strand for a few scoops before the big game. We were gettin into an oul sessiun, when Ger sez, "I`m runnin` out a bleedin` money."..."No bleedin`problem, here gimme that Sunday World!".... So I rolled up the paper, went outside and started directing the traffic into "free" parking spaces at 50pence a pop. Within a half hour I made an extra fiver...As we are walkin` up to Croker , we pass by every bleedin` East Wall gurrier there was, and I`m bleedin` mortified they`ll recognize me through the Arab scarf and corpo glasses hangin` out with culchies...Jaysus I`d never live it down!...We`re in the Hogan Stand, surrounded by a gansy load of bleedin` Kerry culchies and I`m gettin` frustrated...They started singin` Rose of Tralee, and I said to Ger... "Ah4fukSake Ger, we can`t have this!" the two of us started bleedin` roarin`... "Oh the Jacks are back, the Jacks are back, Let the Railway end go blarney, Cause Hill 16 has never seen the likes of Heffos` army"...I swear the lads in Hill 16 heard us cause they joined in... All the culchies around us tried to drown us out by shoutin` the Rose of Tralee louder..."Ah for Jaysus Sake, that’s bleedin` it!" sez Ger, and with that she starts to strip off her green and gold outfit. Then off comes her knickers.(It was then that I knew that Ger`s blonde hair was really a peroxide blonde!). Then off comes the bra, and then I knew what she had up her sleeve all along. She had painted one diddy navy blue and the other one sky blue. She starts to run towards the pitch in her birthday suit, hops over the fence and goes in front of the "royal" box and gives Garett Fitzgerald and all the other dignitaries the V-sign.(Harvey Smith eat yer heart out.) She then streaks across the pitch in the direction of Hill 16. The Bomber Liston tries to give her a rugby tackle but misses. Pat Spillane grabs her, but Brian Mullins gives him a kick in the bollix. By this stage, Hill 16 was in a frenzy and they all started heaving towards the pitch and knocked down the fence. Tony Hanahoe and Jimmy Keaveney carried Ger shoulder high and did a lap around Croker. There were tears streamin` down me face...That was Ger, My Ger....A true Dublin brazzer if there ever was one....

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Slums of Dublin...Part12 (Finglas Village.)

So there I was standin` outside the Carlton cinema all decked out in me Gary Glitter outfit, with a package of Perri crisps in one hand and a Dunnes Stores plastic bag containing 4 teatowels and a bra in the other, waiting on the Cabra bus, when along comes the mad oulwan with the cross..."How`s yer dingdong luv?"..."Ah it`s grand ever since ye gave me that hand massage outside McDowells, the happy ring house"..."I hope yer goin` to mass every Sunday?"… .."Sure I`m just after coming from the Pro-Cathedral, where I lit a candle for the Dubs. for their big match in Croker on Sunday!" ...."Ah fair bleedin` play to ye. I hate those bleedin` Kerry culchies, and is’nt Brian Mullins a bleedin` hunk?"..."The Jacks are back mam, the Jacks are back."...The bus pulls in at Carnlough road about 7pm.This place is like a bleedin` maze, but finally, I find Jarlath road. The place looks like a bleedin` kip. There’s burnt-out cars and trash all over the place. It looks like Finglas-west, except there`s no horses or cream-crackers. Susan`s little brother Anto, is in the front garden throwin rocks at all the cars going by. (He`s at that awkward age where he doesn’t know whether to wear shorts or longers. He sports a hairstyle with a calfs-lick and wears government-issued corporation specs. At times he comes out with some humdingers.) Today he greets me with..."My da sez Durex`s don`t work!"...Susan comes running out the door..."Hooya! Giz a bleedin` goozer for me birthday. What did ye get me?". I produce the tea-towels and the bra, but her oulwan was more delirah than she was. "That`s grand now, I`ll use the tea-towels to wash the babbies, and I`ll borrow the bra for me night out at the bingo tonight!"....."So SuzyQ, where do you want to go for your birthday?"...."I want to do something mad. How about we go down to the Village and slag some of them Finglas brazzers!"...."Ah4fuksake Suzy, are ye lookin` for a deathwish?"...But it was her birthday, so off we went to the Drake Inn in Finglas Village...Just our luck, Sonny Knowles (The window cleaner) was playing, so every bleedin` brazzer from the west was there, shoutin` up at the stage..."Sonny, Give us a wave!". The night was goin` great until Sonny said "Is there anybody out there celebratin` their birthday tonight?" Before I could stop her, Susan was up on the table wavin` madly at Sonny. He coaxes her up onto the stage and said to her, "Where are ye from?"...."Cabra!"...and before Sonny could reply a barage of vodka glasses came hurling through the air. One particular brazzer called Gina stood up....,She had teeth like traffic -lights down the country(few and far between). She wore a skimpy haltertop that precariously held two giant melons which poured out over the top, and the cleavage sported a tatoo on each diddy of M.U.F.C. on the left and I luv Georgie Best on the right. She wore a pair of hotpants two sizes to tight so that they revealed the wrinkles on her buttocks. But the 3 inch heels on her platforms gave an eloquent balance to her rotund figure..."Heeeyawww, ye bleedin` Cabra wagon, what are ye doing trespassin` into our village"?...."Ah shur`up ye fat cow, yer oulwan sells bangers in Moore street!"...."I`m goin` to sit on yer face ye cabra brazzer!"...With that she hurtles towards the stage, but trips over her 3inch platforms and falls square on poor Sonny. I lay low through all this commotion.(I was a great man for lying down under punches.) Susan poured her harp shandy all over Gina and then made a runner out the door with half of Finglas in pursuit. There were tears of pride streaming down my face....That was my Susan!...A true Dublin Brazzer if there ever was one....

Saturday, September 02, 2006