Yous wouldn't credit the buckin' cloth eared farm boys we got runnin' this country. Time was there was a time an' a place fo' everythin'. An' a man knew where he stood. More to the point he also knew where the other buck eejit ligs was standin' so's he could give 'em a wide berth. Not so now. Yous wouldn't believe the line o' lowlifes queuin' up t' slag off decent folk. Yous can't step out yer own door without some hideous hunchback dwarf that farts down his nose is callin' yous t' order. Wasn't it just a day back the Brother, a fellow with letters after his name an' a superintendant if you don't mind with the City Corporation,  was mindin' his own business waitin' on a bus. An' afore yous can tickle yer tackle this wired up thave with string fo' his belt is dockin' alongside an' demandin' the price of a berth fo' the night. An', oooooh yes.......

'They laid out the mammy not two hours since', he tells the Brother, ' an' I'm in fearsome need of a glass. Can yer Honour oblige?'

'Indeed I will not!' The Brother gives it to him straight. 'Have the good grace to refer yourself to the statutory authorities. Why the buck else does a hard workin' man pay his taxes!? '

Hard workin'? Says the loafer. Yous is hard all right , mister. Hard faced. Will yous not stump up a few coppers fo' t' keep a poor boy f' founderin' off his cock in the cold?

Thst's when the Brother gets leakin' gas. 'Has the world gone mad? Are we to be bled white by a tide o' bone idle tinkers? Give you money!? Read my lips. I'd rather be buggered b' a herd of African rhino!! 

An' right that second can yous believe it, the crazy garsun clatters the Brother an' decks him down on his butt in the roadway. 

'Course some civic blighter calls up the Guards an' the two o' them gets lifted. Then, Sister Mary Francis!! Yous couldn't make it up! THE BROTHER GETS CHARGED FO' INCITEMENT!!!  'Incitement!?' I tells the beak.Yous is pullin' me leg. The brother incitin' anyone t' anythin'!? Ask his Mrs. There's more chance of a cabbage bitin' my arse.  But much good it did. Do you know they banged him up fo' two months. An' him wi' a wife an' four wains t' feed. 'Course the filthy scally what done it walks away, wouldn't yous just know it. Bent as bum boys bugle he was but like as not they'll be givin' him a grant t' spend on drink drugs an' a few weeks in the Bahamas while he relaxes from the stress o' bein' a brain dead dosser. An while were on the subject there's another thing. Unnatural practices! This is supposed t be a Christian country. Wasn't it the Holy Father himself said we was the belt that holds up God's breeks! Yet  they go givin' the place over t' dirty boggin' shirtlifters so as no normal man can feel safe unless he's sittin' down squat against th' wall. Then they have the buckin' brass neck t' tell us we've never been so well off. Well off!? That's the chief reason the ol' place is sinkin' Its a fact. We're shippin' water from Cork t' Colraine an' its nothin' t' do with global warmin' ; or them pumpin'  at Kinsale.Its the buckin' size o' th' loafers we're after producin'! Time was they was so thin an' wretched yous could o' got ten men line abreast down a crack in the flagstones. Now they're so fat an' rich the ol' place can't take the weight. There's yer reason. This country wasn't built fo' prosperity fo' the idle classes.

But no point in workin' up a lather. 'Cause its all about to change. We're going to have some law and order back hereabouts an' some respect shown again for the doctrines of Our Divine Mother the Holy Roman Catholic Church. An all yous women that been talkin' out o' turn an' squeelin' about yer rights the like o' the sparrow in the cats's jaws,  yous is goin' t' have t' find yer way back to the scullery. An' yous can forget about all them disgustin' foreign magazines yous is so fond of like The Guardian an' Neapolitan. There's about to be an end o' the lippy lewdness that's bin goin' on for far too long.  Why? Take a screw o' the papers this mornin'. It's on every front page. Shall I read it for you? Its entitled CLOWNING WITH CLONES

FROM OUR SCIENTIFIC CORRESPONDANT, PONCHAS DU LALLY.

'Further to generous EU funding for research into cloning which has enabled Ireland to take a lead in this field scientists from the Frank N. Stein Institute for Medical Meddling in Dublin have created a creatutre stubborn as a mule; twice as thick skinned, that can ride roughshod over everything. Using DNA from signatories on the 1937 Irish Constitution; a set of rosary beads; and a half eaten authentic Spanish paella from Cullen's supermarket, they have reproduced..................... Eamon de Valera! ' 

Hey! Dev's back! An' not a moment too soon! 'Course they didn't mean to do it. Seems like they was told t' conjure up some kind o'super donkey strong enough t' cart farmers' subsidies to the bank. But you know what its like when you leaves Pat an' Mick in charge o' the shop. One test tube looks just like another. It's easily done. Mind you nothin' they can do about it now. They say the Long Feller's already on his way back over to the Dail. Wouldn't yous just love to be a fly on the wall o' the office o' the Taoiseach when some poor bastard has to tell the Chief he's got a visitor. Best get shut o' those glossy photos from the en suit carsey; not t' mention the chat line numbers in the Diplomatic Phone Book. An' best send a detachment o' the Guards down t' get Frankie's Freak Shop boarded up pronto before there's any more accidents. Meanwhile, as they say in the soon to be silent late night adult shows on RTE, THE CRAIC'S ONLY JUST BEGINNIN'............