Sunday, 23 December 2018

GRANNY BARKES FELL IN WOOLWORTHS

GRANNY BARKES FELL IN WOOLWORTHS
 


Granny Barkes fell in Woolworths ... she'll get a free ride in the  ambulance Ha! Ha! Ha!... The just man falls seven times...  Look! See the tracks of Santa's feet on the hearth... I'll break your ould desk... Say what may the tidings be, on this glorious Christmas morn?... He's lost his apple cake... Look! Look what Mairead has made!... That would bury Dick and Diamond... Indeed he went all the way to the whiney nough... I'm getting a wheelbarrow tomorrow: it's brand new ... I can't sleep with excitement... This is a day above all days... No, we are off to school, c'mon Eddie... I heard a roar between  two hills... L to the water Jimmy Harte... I wish that day would come back again... And flying my kite... What happened to your lorry Jim?... Lay on MacDuff... Edward's day out... He cut down a tree from the hedge of the car road with a hatchet - yes, but it's his birthday... I don't know ... maybe so. I think they did... Look at the size of the flakes! Look at the size of the flakes!... There's a stepmother's breath in the air... He stole matches... Oh! I love to play when the decorations are up... If I was you I'd build a wall... He's a good maker... The Irvines of the wheel, the wild men from Borneo... Time waits for no man, not even John Roy... Jeremiah, blow the fire; puff, puff, puff... Blue ink, black ink, and good red ink... See that sycamore tree? By the end of November there won't be a single leaf left on it... Secundam scripturas... Has he no ears?... Hey! Don't touch that coal scuttle, that belongs to Stanton Bailey... That's the biggest laugh I've had since I put salt in the sugar bowl last week... I'll get ye Tony... James Hugh Monaghan from Dernee,  a warrior I do beliee... Hurling by bum, hurling by bum... Ya'll come now? Oh! that do make it nice... You are very unsatisfactory...  I was reading The Messenger...  Drinking buttermilk all the week, whiskey on a Sunday... Back to back, belly to belly, don't give a damn about Yarnarelli... Come day, go day, God send Sunday... The chocolate tree, the sweet tree... The waters wild went o'er his child and he was left lamenting... 'Ma mither is a queen', said he... This new wheel of fortune has just come from France... John Johnston's horses are in your corn... Which one's thaaat?... Night's for rest, night's for rest... There's a yellow rose in Texas... "Hot diggity, dog ziggity, boom, what you do to me, when you're holding me tight."...  A field in Larne... Would it be physical?... A stew boiled is a stew spoiled... The Minster-clock has just struck two, and yonder is the Moon... Boys obtuse... And the hunter home from the hills... Wait 'til I get another stone for you Cyril... McAree, McAra, McAvarn K-Kunny, put in your white foot 'til I see if you're my mummy... Bara lynsey, bara lynsey... Patch upon patch sown without stitches; come riddle me this and I'll give you my britches... "Hold on, my door was hit too."... Joe Worthington, Joe Worthington you'd sit till you'd rot... Come to the water fit a thank ye, fit a thank ye, fit a thank ye... Dazed I stepped forward to be congratulated by Lord Erne... Most postmen are dishonest and do steal money from envelopes... I washed my hands in water; water never run, and I dried them in a towel that was neither wove nor spun... Here comes I Wee Devil Doubt, the pain within, the pain without... Peeping round the door in the khaki there to see the old pair once again... When I was a lad so was me Dad... Ta Ra Ra Bam, Ta Ra Ra Ching, Ta Ra Ra Bam, Ta Ra Ra... 'Twas on a Sunday evening that Barlow's it was robbed: Mrs Barlow went down to the room to get a treacle scone, but when she saw the moneybox, the money it was gone... Genitori, Genitoque Laus et jubilation...  He relies too much on his effing muscles... The Protestant boys are loyal and true: they are in me eye says Donal Abu...  What's the 'with thee' for? What's the 'with thee' for?...  On a brick-coloured ticket, that's brick Pat... All in!...  Water! Water!, er , Tea! Tea!, with two lumps of sugar and a spot of milk... I wonder, yes I wonder, will the angels way up yonder, will the angels play their harps for me?... Whistle and I will come to you me lad... Get that Teddy Boy haircut out of my sight!... The one with the black bucket is the best... Paw! Haw! Haw! John's just laughing at us... The shadow of the Valois is yawning at the Mass... Sandy Row on an Easter Monday, every day's like an Easter Sunday... It's always Torchie and the second years... Willie Ruckie... Milled today, fed tomorrow... It's long and it's narrow, it's not very wide, it wears a green selvage on every side... Tilly Versailles... "Yes, yogurt is very good for longlevity"... Yes and truly you are best... No more tomorrows in your career... Dr Whitehead... Piss, Piss  Iceland dog!... Tickets are sixpence each and I hope you all win... Andera Keck K-Keck K-Keck K-Keck... We sell only the best E..E..English C..C..Coca Cola... Aye but, naw but, could you cut turf?... Hollyhocks! Hollyhocks! over Bobby Lyttle's garden wall...  "You took the coat hanger to it."... The seas obey, the fetters break and lifeless limbs thou dost restore... You could easily stand on Kelly's hills and count his skinny ribs... Barefooted thatcher, Pa Bunty... Have you got a wagon to put these wheels on?... Lauda Jerusalem Dominum,  Lauda Deum tuum Sion... Man attacked and thoroughly beaten, attackers make off in a posh car... Swiftly, silently and unseen... You see Missus D; there's the cow and there's the gate... C'mon... let's get home for the beef and spuds... Ecce Panis Angelorum… Can it be I can't see the curtain?... Dee daw Marjorie Raw... You're idle for stelk... Saucepan gossiper... Corduroy for every boy, cordurat for every cat... We're the boys that fears no noise, we are the bold Drumarda boys... On Saturday night we all got tight and Cassidy brought us over...  Silver Saturday, jink night... Listening to the footsteps of the boys from Tedd... Dick Nan's: just the spot for a picnic... Listen to me George: "Would you like white stones on your grave?"... Fish away... You know I have an affection for thee... The bespectacled roadman...  Chick a boom, chick a rack, ... chick a boom,  chick a rack, and the yellow skirt goes swinging...  Mr. Marley has been dead these seven years, Scrooge replied. He died seven years ago, this very night... Too strong Grandad, too strong... Go on Balfour!...  Santa Agatha, ora pro nobis... "Pope Pius XII died during the night."...  The Ypres Salient at Night... Histracy... Wherefore have you left your sheep on that stony mountain steep?... Hi for a toffer  and hi for it still; and hi for the wee lad lies over the hill... The river eddy  whirls... Beati Michaeli archangelo... Put a table in the hall and it will do fine... And he fully did...  Are you ruptured?... Jimmy Hicks is not in hell... Rushe came down last night... I know my nick name... Uncle Merry... For aye for guide: very good neighbours, but keep your back to us... Apostrophe at the Post  Office today... Let the reindeers go. Let them go!...  Good morrow Mick... No-one will  read your papers... Oh! Hugh is staunch...  Jack's in Diviney... Smithers... You're only making a faddle (fardel) of yourself... The image of a girl... Deeper than the wishing well... Ballina, Balnabroka, Anahinahola, don't show the white feather wherever you go... Carolina  moon... What a beautiful day! What must heaven be like?... Do you know our d'Brian?... Who got hit?... You're nice Miss Rice.... I see said the blind man... The fish in the pond are seeing  red as Bobby is fishing with Coates strong thread... And all round Peter Brewer's car... And those who come from  distance far are always late for tea... Oh! to be in Doonaree... All day all night  Marianne; down by the seaside sifting sand... Look at the way he's twisting that  stick... He won't know himself in this lovely place... You've given me a taste of fame... There was a wild colonial boy  Jack Saltey was his name. Geoff Duke. Elenore Gee! I think you're swell... The people they call me Calypso Joe. Peas ... er, from our garden. Delish... Oh! my diploma... I win a pound... The ancient ring post snapped like a matchstick... I think, I think, that she's the mostest of the lot, and furthermore she is the only chick I got... Nicolette, I can pick 'em!... Raddle diddle da ha ha... A great time of day to be in such good humour... They all wore black coats and black top hats and they turned and went up to your room... Deep, deep river, away, away... Early morning light, Rat ta-tat ta-tat ta-tat. Rat ta-tat ta-tat ta-tat...

5 comments:

  1. What IS this shit?

    ReplyDelete
  2. This is the eleventh version of this utter piffle to appear on this blog. On its first appearance, on March 3rd 2013, it was 247 words long; now, after nearly six years, it runs to 1465 words and still means the square root of bugger-all - pretentious, empty alphabet soup. Not only that, but at a work-rate of 250 words A YEAR, it seems that even writing as badly as this comes hard to Gene, straining his almost non-existent literary powers past their limit.

    It must be terrible to be Gene at the moment; an illiterate drunkard whose wife has thrown him out of the marital bed in order to avoid his inept and foul-breathed groping, shunned by his daughters at Christmas, and now, because of his drunken, bigoted boorishness, rudeness, nastiness and violence, excluded from The Good Yarn Friday Night Arse-Kissing and Circle-Jerking Club. He is having a really bad time, a thought to warm the cockles of the heart this Christmas tide. There again, I cannot but echo the late Kingsley Amis who, when being told of an enemy who was having a bad time, used to bark "not bad ENOUGH!". It gives one the greatest possible pleasure to kick the ineffable Robert Willoughby Vincent when he is down. I look forward to hearing even worse news of him in the coming year.

    ReplyDelete
  3. And I have just realised of whom it is that Gene's terrible writing reminds me: he is a 21st century William Topaz McGonagall.

    ReplyDelete
  4. And he has just sent me this sickeningly hypocritical email:

    "To Detters, Delia and Sebastian WISHING YOU ALL A HAPPY AND HOLY CHRISTMAS from GENE."

    This is the man who, not long ago, boasted of having shagged "Delia", invited his friends to congratulate him for having done so, and boasted of the tenth anniversary of an occasion when he claimed to have fathered my beloved son on her - a uniquely nasty piece of vainglory.

    He is filth, pure and simple; disgusting is too feeble an adjective for this repulsive little turd.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Compare and contrast...

    Saturday, a warm and hilarious family gathering with mother in law, brother in law and partner.....Sunday, daughters, husbands and grand-daughters convene at our house for a loud and happy afternoon culminating in a capella carol singing round the piano which brought the neighbours round with requests for Silent Night and The Angel Gabriel, then all the family to Nine Lessons and Carols at our local church, where my son read a lesson with aplomb, understanding and relish.....yesterday, final preparations for the festival and in the evening, playing the organ at a carol service for an old friend whom I have known since she was six weeks old and who is now a vicar in the next parish but two.....and today, an early start with our son opening his presents, an afternoon with in laws and nieces, and tonight Christmas dinner with the family, cooked by me and enjoyed by everyone.....

    And contrast? Gene, illiterate, rejected, banned from his favourite pub, shunned by his daughters, drunk every day by the late morning, and reduced to bolstering his self-esteem by recycling for the eleventh time a piece of writing which was dreadful five years ago, stank up the place then and stinks up it worse each time he recycles it.....

    Face it, Gene; you are rubbish.

    ReplyDelete