Fabulous Facts from the World of Nature

Scientists have noted that the common mouse is so short in length that when it passes flatulence, the smell of the mouse’s brain can be detected in the expiring gas. This is because the mouse’s brain aromas, or cerebral rodential emissions, have far less distance to travel than that of more elongated species.

For this reason, male mice of high intelligence tend to flatulate a lot in order to prove their IQ to fertile females in the area. More dim-witted male mice, who don’t know any better, tend to flatulate just as much.

*

Theraphosa blondi, the world’s largest spider, is famed for eating birds’ eggs and even chicks in branches high above the Amazon jungle’s forest floor. However, due to intensive deforestation and massive city expansion near Sao Paolo, Brazil, the aggressive arachnid has taken to leaving upmarket bistros without paying for four-course meals. This is no accident of nature.

On being confronted on one occasion with the bill for a steak dinner by the restaurant manager after his meal, the hairy spider declared that he is entitled to eat whatever he wants for free, and if the manager doesn’t like it, then he can take his tiny tiddler, and - if he performs the miracle of stretching it enough - tuck it under his testicles and slip it into his anus where he knows what he can do with it. The tarantula-like creature then departed the restaurant to return unmolested to his nest in an affluent quarter of the city, where he lives rent-free at the expense of the other residents.


*

Britain’s red squirrel population, its only native species, is now undermined by the more competitive grey squirrel, first introduced to Britain in 1876. The displacement of the native species is seen internationally as severe enough to qualify as genocide, but the US State Department has toned down the claims by saying that only “acts of genocide” are taking place. Red squirrels are thought to defer to the grey squirrel’s more austere appearance, misconstruing the colour of its fur as a sign of great wisdom.



All images sourced from Wikipedia.


A short story, and some pics of the little church that inspired it

Ramsey and the Child
         
              The child and his mother are stuck at home rather than on holidays in Egypt. Flights are grounded due to a volcanic eruption in Iceland. This news has perturbed the boy. His eyes focus intensely on his favourite television program.
               Each day, the two tv presenters go through a different door; the green door, the yellow door, or the red door.
            “Come with us, across the floor,” they utter, as they traipse across the studio towards the three doors.
            “Let’s see what’s behind the…red door,” one tells the other surreptitiously, and they go through.
            The child has noticed a pattern over the course of several months. He predicts which door the presenters go through each day. But today, the boy is wrong for the first time. He guesses the green door. Instead, the presenters take the red door.

           The child raises the television’s volume until it is loud enough to induce a frown. Still frowning, he drops the remote control, toddling to the kitchen. His mother wipes the breakfast table with a damp cloth. Her smile unsettles him further. The child tells his mother that something is very, very wrong with the world.
            “Aw, my little guy!” she laughs.
            When he explains as best he can about the three doors, she laughs.
            “You’re still unsettled by the volcano!” she explains.
            He starts to cry. She continues wiping surfaces. He finally runs at her, trying to impart the significance of the televisual event. His mother, protected from his little fists by her laminated apron, guides him into his bedroom. She closes the door behind him. He beats on the door, screaming at her that something is terribly wrong.


            She hunches against the door as he beats it.
            She is entertaining the thought of phoning the television station to see if the show was a repeat.
            The doorbell rings. She turns the key in the boy’s bedroom door. The doctors have said that it’s wrong to lock the door. She is past caring. When she wants to get out the packet of cigarettes she keeps in the medicine cabinet, she knows she is beyond her breaking point.
   
            At the hall door, Ramsey stands on the porch doorstep, leaning on the door frame presumptuously. His posture can’t have been comfortable when the door was shut.
            Ramsey’s accent is unique. His eyelashes are long enough to suggest that he may wear mascara. A roofer by trade, because of the recession he resorts to odd jobs. No one knows where Ramsey the handyman is from. He appeared two years ago, to work on the now abandoned building site down the road. Since then, he often does any work he can get in the area.
            When Ramsey is cleaning the nextdoor neighbours’ drains, mowing their lawns or doing some kind of grouting, he sometimes calls to the mother’s house to fill a pail of water because the neighbours’ outside taps do not work. She notices that Ramsey has a cigarette behind his ear.
            “Ramsey.”
            “Ma’am.” His look is open to interpretation, although there is an air of arrogance about Ramsey. He stands expectantly.
            “I never asked you…” she falters. She is always a little overcome by how handsome he is. She doesn’t want to ask him what he wants just yet. “I never asked you if your name…”
            “My name?” He blinks like a fawn. Swarthy in his overalls, she wonders how he’d look clean-shaven in a suit or a uniform.
            “You’ve been paving Mildred’s driveway for a week…”
            “Yes?” he asks, his dark eyes not leaving hers.
            “Your name is just Ramsey? Is it…first name or…or last?”
            “First name or or last?” His English is poor.
            “You know, ehhh. Like…Gordon?”
            “Gordon?”
            “Like Gordon Ramsay? It’s bad manners to use a person’s second name, a person’s surname? You know this? I don’t want to…like…”
            “Like…?”
            “I don’t want to assume. Or is it like…Ramsay…I thought it was like Ramsay McDonald? You know? The Prime Minister, from years ago? Is it like Prince? Madonna? Cher?” She shrugs and laughs. “A one-word name?”
            “Prince!” His vacuous smile broadens. His comprehension appears limited.
            Her son thumps on his door. She half turns into the house, as if acknowledging the noise assuages any implication of negligence in ignoring it.
            “What can I do for you?” She tries not to sound suggestive.
            Ramsey removes a piece of paper from his front dungarees pocket.
            “You have a…” He consults the paper, “highly intelligent autistic child?”
            He looks back up at her, eyebrows raised.
            She instinctively puts a hand to her throat.
            “What do you want with…”
            “Your boy, he know…” Ramsey nods his head encouragingly.
            The boy can be heard bawling: “Let me out of this room this instinct! This instinct!” His mother laughs nervously.
            “Release the boy,” Ramsey says. “I talk him. I say him things? Then he say me things?”
            “You want to talk with my little guy?”
            Ramsey sighs relief that he is understood, and nods.
            She fetches the child, his face red raw with tears and mucus. He looks at Ramsey.
            “Your friend is here,” his mother tells him.
            “The world worked like this before, but…” the child wipes his eyelid with his tiny fist.
            From the living room, a documentary’s narrator blasts from the television:
            “…entry into the Ancient Egyptian afterlife was permitted only if your name was known. So if your pyramid or tomb was unmarked, you were trapped on Earth.”
            The child looks to his mother.
            “The night will come forever and the world will end if his chamber is not named,” the boy says. “His soul is trapped, Mummy.”

            “Whose soul?”
            “Ramesses’.”
            “Ramsey’s soul?” She looks at her son, then at the sallow skinned handyman. Ramsey nods and grins encouragingly.
            “The world worked differently then, Mummy. Not like your way.” He tugs at her apron. “Come on.”
            He pushes past Ramsey on the porch, to the car in the driveway. He chews his upper lip with his lower teeth anxiously, his eyes still glistening with tears. “Come on.”
            His mother doesn’t want another tantrum. She takes her purse from the kitchen table.
            The child, his mother and Ramsey pull up to the local cemetery, less than three miles away. They get out, walking to the oldest section, which lacks a roadway. The sun is high in the midday sky.
            Ramsey explains on the way that after he battled and defeated the Sea People, his tomb was usurped by an impostor. Some courtiers conspired to kill him, and a butler took his place in the tomb. Ramsey tells of darkness falling when he was marked to die three thousand years ago – but forced to roam the earth till now – and a convergence today, the Icelandic volcano, to allow his passage. The world almost ended then, he explains, because as a god, he was not accorded a burial to enable passage into the Afterlife.
            The child’s mother is convinced that his inelegant language is prone to her misinterpretation.
            A tiny and ancient church on the grounds of the graveyard’s oldest section is little more than a roofless shell. A prochronistic, reinforced metal door, painted green, is in a wall of the ruin. They stand before it.

            “Look, I don’t understand,” she says, stopping him mid-speech. Angered at some of the words he knows, like butler, convergence, Afterlife and usurper, she believes he has a better command of English than he admits.
            “Do you want to roof this church? Are you trying to get a contract with the council, to re-roof this ruin?” She looks at the small building. “I have better things to do, Ramsey.”
            “Contract! Yes! Contract!” he nods, beaming broadly. “Thank you, Missus!”
            He doubles over, kissing her hand. His soft lips tingle against her skin. A chill runs up her spine.
            He turns and walks to the church, stretching as if getting out of bed.
            “He released me. I release him now,” the child says. His mother laughs at the child’s solemnity. Ramsey pulls the heavy, creaking door, steps in and closes it behind him. It makes an unusual echo.
            Mother and child walk around the ruin. She can see into it, above a section of the wall that is only shoulder high. If Ramsey is still there, he is hiding immediately behind the wall. The mother feels like she is watching a magic trick.
            An old groundskeeper appears through a gap in the hedge dividing the sections of cemetery. In a black fleece jacket and a luminous high viz vest, he stands with a shovel alongside the boy and his mother, admiring the tiny ruin.
            “You like Ramsgate Chapel?” he finally asks.
            “Ram’s Gate Chapel?” the mother repeats.
            “Seventeenth century chapel, if it’s a day. Monks reared sheep here in the Middle Ages. Probably why it’s called that. Don’t know for sure, though.”
            “That’s not why,” the child says, before addressing the spring breeze: “You have your name now. Day day, Ramsey.”

Mirror universe news (Pure Speculation)

In the mirror universe, Taoiseach Inda Kinny was in Washington presenting President Obama with a certificate of authentic Irish ancestry. When Obama piped up that the certificate would have pride of place alongside his birth certificate, the Taoiseach didn't get the joke but he covered it up really well by looking at the certificate of Irishness to see if President Obama's date of birth was on the cert, and if so, to make sure that it was accurate.
Obama claims that the certificate of Irishness will take pride of place alongside his birth certificate.

Laughter from the press, with Kinny looking confused and wondering "WTF? Have the Irish disgraced themselves yet again?"

Confusion cover-up with laughter and a quick check to see if the disgraceful Irish got Obama's date of birth wrong.

Church Crisis absolutely scandalous, admit priest and bishop

Debate over Traditional Latin Mass may cause rift in Catholic Church


Photo by Irene Chaney

A massive split may occur within the Catholic Church later this year after confidential polls taken at the Vatican suggest that some cardinals are "patently unhappy" with Pope Benedict's decision to revive the pre-1962 "Latin Mass" as an Extraordinary Rite.

Waterford priest Father Luke Regan, 47, feels uneasy about reintroducing the Tridentine Mass - which is now an option available to priests - as he feels that it is antiquated.

"We want to shake things up a bit in the church," Regan explains. "Fancy robes, fancy candles and fancy Gregorian chants do not an interesting Mass make. I want to focus on the local news and events from the pulpit. Last Sunday, I wanted to talk about the young fellas travelling up to Roscommon for the hurling and winning their game, but Father Casey, the PP, told me in no uncertain terms that I was not allowed to make any reference to any children in my sermon - ever - because I wouldn't have the time to re-enact the Lord's last meal."



Benedict’s 2007 reforms undermine certain elements of Pope Paul VI’s almost universally popular Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy and overturn decisions made at the Second Vatican Council between 1962 and 1965.

Photo by Irene Chaney
 
"It's absolutely scandalous that we're focusing on these Tridentine Latin Masses, when we ought to be looking at how to give the church more of a community feel," claims Fr. Regan. "The only thing I miss about the old Mass is the lack of altar boys. There are fewer people in the pews of a Sunday, as can be expected as society becomes more and more secular. But it's very odd to me that there are no altar boys, because I can go back twenty odd years when I had just left the seminary and say that there used to be altar boys. The kids these days don't want anything to do with the Church."

Father Regan returned to Ireland this year after spending two decades working in an orphanage in Nepal. He found his ascetic existence spiritually rewarding, and he claims that his conscious decision to have limited contact with the outside world was completely refreshing.

"These days, you have technology this and technology that," he says. "I was thirty miles from the nearest pay phone in Nepal, and then you'd need Tibetan coins to operate it, because it was over the way. And I absolutely loved it, so I did. I wrote to my parents once a week, but I returned to Ireland five years into my orphanage work, to bury first my mother - and then Lord rest him - my father - within weeks of each other. Lord rest them both."

Photo by Irene Chaney


Father Regan returned to Nepal after his father's death "from a broken heart, Lord rest him". His Nepalese home was effectively a hole hewn into a massive rock in the Himalayan foothills. He continued to live under the rock for a further fifteen years, until the Church deemed it necessary to call him back to Ireland due to the priest shortage. When asked what he thinks is needed for church reform, his focus is on the children.

"I've seen a touch of the exotic in Nepal. Nothing too special. But I was inspired to write to Dublin Zoo to see if they'd send down a pair of flamingoes to brighten things up.
Photo by quixxxie2000

"You know, a flamingo on either side of the altar might draw a few more children and wildlife enthusiasts in on a Sunday. We need to bring the kids back into the folds of the church. A lot of people will say they don't appreciate the formalising influence His Holiness has brought from Rome, and it's quite clear that the children don't either. I meet people in the streets, and when I talk about my love of the kids, I often get a very negative, hostile and aggressive response. This Latin Tridentine stuff is obviously having a massive knock-on effect on the popularity of the Church, because there are no kids any more. Where are all the children gone from the Church?"

A massive rupture in the Vatican over the Latin Mass could occur within weeks, observers claim, with a number of bishops expressing unease at the formality of Benedict’s changes. Meanwhile, Father Regan is still trying to make things eye catching on his home turf.

"Dublin Zoo wrote back to me in the end, asking me what grounds I had for keeping flamingoes. My grounds, I told them, my grounds are trying to bring a bit of cheer, a bit of nature, a bit of the wild, and a touch of the exotic, into the church. Then they wrote back with a letter of clarification. I had to write back then to explain that the bishop wouldn't object to a couple of flamingoes on his land."
Photo by quixxxie2000

While some bishops are more sanguine about the changes, others are more aggressive in their rejection of the antiquated ways of the church. Father Regan's bishop - who readily agreed to provide a home for the flamingoes, if they need one - spoke on condition of anonymity.

"If some conservative priest wants to say his Latin Tridentine Masses on any consecrated ground in my diocese, I'll simply ship him off to a parish beyond my jurisdiction, where he can do whatever he likes with his backwards rituals. It's absolutely scandalous."

Northern Ireland caught impersonating Australia - again

Northern Ireland was brought before the international courts yesterday for impersonating Australia. The province was found to be masquerading as a map of the much larger landmass in a sting operation undertaken by a unit of the International Map Surveying and Dialects Institute in Berne and the Police Service of Northern Ireland (known as the Penis NI).

Northern Ireland above, masquerading as a map of Australia
Members of the Institute's unit almost immediately recognized glaring errors on the map, but on zooming in on just a few of the Australian states, they also agreed that the map's wording was more in keeping with a standard Ulster accent, rather than more conventional English. For example, the state of New South Wales was rendered as "Nyoo Soyth Weels", a clear indicator of a beautiful lilting Fermanagh twang at best - and at worst, a horrific, guttural, moany, whiny excuse for the English language.

Northern Ireland now faces a possible prison sentence, as it has been found guilty of masquerading as Australia a number of times in the past, and subsequently fined by the UN.

However, the province's audacity in continuing to impersonate the much more massive southern continent indicates that a more severe punishment - requiring non-binding international legislation to be changed - may result in Northern Ireland actually disappearing altogether from some maps.

A rendering of how Northern Ireland should actually appear
Many people in both the rest of the UK and in the Republic of Ireland have been attempting to completely ignore Northern Ireland for decades, as it has continued to bang on about things as if it was the actual size of Australia, while little heed has been paid to it. It has caused a lot of high maintenance strife and has insisted on plenty of money and time and stuff. Critics of Northern Ireland say that an internationally sanctioned prison sentence could be the wakeup call that the province actually needs.

New Tablets encourage headaches

Many people suffer headaches and they just want them to end. But what if you feel a headache coming on, but it's just an annoying mild pain, rather than a strong migraine?

Having a headache that's more of a niggling encumbrance can be even more annoying than a full blown, thumping pain. Some people would argue that having a stabbing migraine feels so much better than having a - let's face it - a half hearted kind of a headache. It's like the difference between reading search engine optimized content from a substandard writer who is employing the term "headache" as a keyword, spinning out a lot of crap, and reading a properly researched and well informed article that isn't trying to manipulate search engines headache.

So now you want a really bad headache, right? You want a sharp and intense pain, rather than the dull ache that you have right now? Well, there are some wonderful tablets available on the market today that can help your headache along.


These fantastic tablets have a three-in-one formula  First of all, the upper layer of the tablet acts upon "baked on" food residue, leaving expensive delph perfectly clean without damaging it.

The second great ingredient means that it won't oxidize metal - making stainless steel cutlery an absolute cinch to maintain. No rusty knives - or forks - for you! And it won't scratch your glass the way other headache tablets will!

Finally, when you use this tablet, your needs for salt and rinse are a thing of the past!

Your niggling headache is aggressively compounded thanks to the rich amount of phosphates, oxygen heavy bleaching agents, and just a sprinkling of that polycarboxylate magic. The headache tablet might even cause severe stomach ache and temporary blindness! So get that head throbbing, and try these headache tablets today headache.

CGI becoming obsolete, insists Hollywood producer

Four years ago, cigar chomping Hollywood director producer Harvey Brickheimer-Emmerich commissioned a biotechnology firm with the development and rearing of a super-massive ant. Two entomologists, three veterinarians, seven cattle ranchers, and a retired circus master were hurt in the making of the ant, as it was matured through a combination of gene therapy and DNA hybridization techniques. It is intended that the ant will launch a franchise of horror movies, and that its size will allow the films' director-producer to keep the costs of computer generated imagery low.
Photo courtesy Alex Rauch

"CGI is old hat," claims Brickheimer-Emmerich, as we discuss his new project in a Hollywood restaurant with enough variety on the menu to satisfy the entire Topeka KA chapter of Elvis impersonators celebrating the 25th anniversary of the King of Rock & Roll Fan Club. However, the fan club's celebrations had taken place last year at an entirely different location. Today, unfortunately, no fan club members were anywhere near the restaurant.

"We expect to save millions in post production work thanks to this new genetic technology."
"When you say we, do you mean as in you and me?" I ask him.
"No."

The Hollywood auteur got the idea when he went to the biotech firm to audition insects for the horror feature. "I didn't have any studio backing. I was just checking things out." When he saw the screentests of the various insects, he was particularly taken with the ants. But he asked the scientists if there was any way that they could make the arthropods any bigger. He knew that the small size of the ants would cause problems, as they could be difficult to locate on a set, if they decided to go for a stroll. The lab technicians sent him away with the promise that they would do their best. Once funding for the project materialized, work started in earnest in creating the supermassive beast.

The creature has already been booked for the upcoming horror movie starring Fifty Cent and Rutger Hauer - the first of a planned trilogy. If the first movie proves a hit, the sequels will be shot back to back. Trained in acting for camera by a method coach who specializes in Brechtian alienation techniques, and an entomological pharmacologist who has expertise in chemical signals, the unique beast has done all of its work in front of green screen technology so that it is not spooked once actual shooting begins. It is expected that the ant will do all of its acting in front of green screen. Mr. Cent and Mr. Hauer have also started pre-production work on the movie, bathing daily for three hours in a gloop of pheromones and enzymes that will endear the creature to them. Once production begins, the ant will regard them as non-threatening - although its newly acquired acting abilities will allow it to fake the motiveless malice often bestowed on such creatures by man's tendency towards anthropomorphism.

Post production backdrops will include the Nevada Desert, from where - according to the movie's plot - the ant has emerged after a series of nuclear tests goes awry and - according to details uncovered from the script's final act - the city of Las Vegas. Special effects will also add a set of frightening mandibles to the ant's face, and the spiracles running along its body may be enhanced so that it appears more hostile.
Photo courtesy Alex Rauch

Things are all go for the social insect now, which is so big that it requires its own trailer. Its keepers regard it as a "three year old overnight success". The canny agent of the lucky hymenopteran has also booked a 3D movie that reveals the life of a typical ant. The biotech firm which produced the ant has now been tasked with creating hundreds of insects, arachnids, plants and a single aardvark to similar scale, so that all of the ant's surroundings in this more true-to-life biopic appear completely realistic.

Private Security Firms Employing Illegal Immigrants

A report published by the Central Statistics Office details a massive rise in the employment of illegal immigrants by private security companies, with figures more than tripling in the last three years.
Photo: Irene Chaney


2012 figures show that security firms in the Republic of Ireland provided work for as many as two foreign nationals who resided in the state illegally. By 2015 - the last year for which figures are available - that number had leapt to seven. The data collected suggests that both EU and non-EU nationals are working in the sector.


Unconfirmed data suggests that as many as an eighth man could be working as a security guard in the North.

Murdoch: "No longer any pretence as reports sent from Death Star"

Media magnate Rupert Murdoch - who is going through some of the most humbling experiences of his life lately - has decided to permit his tv journalists to film to-camera pieces from their Death Star base currently orbiting Earth, if they have no need to leave the off-planet headquarters of News International Corporation Sky Fox International Congloberation. For decades, it was believed that Murdoch had notions about his power that were above his station. They weren't.

Reports now filed from Death Star.
In a new culture of openness, Murdoch's admission that his satellite network is complemented by the massive space station comes after months of speculation about his empire's tenuous future. It is obvious now, however, that his power is ubiquitous.

The orbiting news station's purposes extend to astronomy. Monitoring the skies for celestial bodies such as asteroids and comets that could strike the Earth, it calculates which astronomical phenomena would have apocalyptic results on the planet's life, and which would result in destruction that is deemed simply newsworthy. It was revealed last night that two years ago the news station obliterated an Earth bound comet that it observed approaching from the outer solar system. However, Murdoch is looking forward to an asteroid strike scheduled for 2014, expected to result in just a few million deaths.

Speaking on condition of anonymity, Sky News anchorman Kay Burley said that the entire empire has been "gearing up" for the strike for the last five years.

"This is not the kind of a thing that would wipe out the entire eastern seaboard of the United States, like 9-11. But what it will do - what the experts tell me it will do - is kill off developing world instra structure and a sonic boom that well what I know is - don't get me wrong - our Sky surveyors have already sent probes to the asteroid to do tests and by God there'll be hell to pay. I'm not going to take any more shit. I have a novel out!"

BSB probes have been sent out beyond Jupiter to ascertain the age and composition of the asteroid, for an extended profile of the body that will run for at least a month in Murdoch owned titles before the predicted strike.

The hydrogen fuelled probes have carried out a series of FUN tests, made up of Fluorine, Uranium and Nitrogen testing that scientists describe as being on a par with carbon dating.

The admission of the Death Star's existence also answers a number of other mysteries. It had been unclear until now as to why astrologers working for News International Corporation's daily and weekly titles had been so much more accurate in predicting the future for their readers than those working for other papers. It transpires that those working for News International Corporation have access to planetary and galactic data from the Death Star's monitoring systems - known to News International Corporation employees as the "Great Galactic Phone Tap" - allowing astrologers to more accurately foresee matters of love and money for their readership.

FUN test

If you suffer from constipation, why don't you try sticking a hoover up there? It worked for me!


Greece reverts to pre-industrial hey day

In an attempt to write down its vast debt through a swap with private bondholders before tonight's deadline, the entire country of Greece has plunged itself back to antiquity. The necessary delay in Greece making its debt obligations is now so far into the future that an opposing force led by the IMF, Angela Merkel and the World Bank, has forced the nation some two and a half millennia into the past.


Although three quarters of the bondholders had already agreed to the swap, a government source is now incapable of imparting the good news internationally until a herald travels to Athens from the town of Marathon, hopefully before the agora opens again for business next Monday. A run on Greek financial institutions began yesterday, as groups of naked rioters charged into the banks armed with spears, battering rams and shields, reducing the financial district of Athens to chaos.

A number of Greek cities and towns have now declared independence from Athens. A herd of elephants from Carthage - under instruction from a fierce hedge fund manager of Persian extraction with facial piecings - has rampaged through the streets of Sparta, led by a mammoth which terrified local children have christened Mr. Snuffleupagus, revealing how popular the recent reboot of the Muppet franchise has become. The remaining infrastructure in Sparta has today been described as "minimal".


Optimism that a default would be averted has been undermined by a complete breakdown in electronic communications. Travel by boat is now the norm as the prime means of communication.

However, the necessity that Greece delay its repayments so far into the future that the country pushed itself back in time has been seen as a potential money spinner. If the safety of visitors can be guaranteed once the rubble is cleared, tourism may once again flourish. With the reversion comes an intellectual revival. A man called Plato has approached the Greek government, with a series of proposals, claiming that he may be able to apply a set of criteria to their economic practices in order to - if not perfect them - at least to strive towards an ideal consolidated debt instrument.

New Eircom bundle amazing, admits Eircom

In an amazing deal for new customers, Irish telecommunications giant Eircom is offering access to thousands of mainstream media sites as part of their new bundle. The deal is throwing its competitors into disarray, as consumers will now be able to access online newspaper articles and current affairs related video content from around the globe. Not only will the mainstream media sites be available, but remarkably, the Eircom bundle also offers access to sites that could be regarded by many as "niche, in terms of political views", such as the whistle-blowing WikiLeaks site.


Courtesy Brian Thomas Auker

Incredibly, on top of making available access to various news sources, the Eircom bundle also has the ability to access language learning facilities, information on the battles of the First World War (also known as the Great War), numerous gardening and guitar playing tips, news from Savannah, Georgia, the ability to listen to many different genres of music, the capacity to obtain information from government departments across the planet that have sole responsibility for fisheries in a given territory, the provision of aspects of technology that will allow a computer user to create and share specific links via email from the Internet, access to numerous fansites dedicated to the Pope, the office of the Pope, or his predecessors, and commentary on various aspects of the world of entertainment, including biographical information about David Bowie.

Courtesy Irene Chaney

The new bundle also includes the delivery of a surprising range of goods that can be ordered online, coming from the retailer straight to the door of an address specified by the buyer. Unbelievably, this offer also extends to fresh groceries.

Republican Debate Unites Candidates

At the latest debate for the pending Super Caucus Duper Primary Stupor Filibuster Dick Clark's Blooper Moccasins Ultimate Challenge Tuesday - ULTIMATE FIGHTER X ROUND 7! AND THE X IS A TEN!!!, in the wilds of Butte, Montana, the ninety eleventh knockout round of its kind in the race, the four remaining ultra conservative contenders for the GOP presidential nomination have declared themselves united on at least one front. Two words: Good. Neighborhoodship.*


Before the biggest ultimate debate ever, where we may see The Newt extract his revenge with a Shurnuff Barlow knife, here's a little background on each of the candidates:

Ron Paul
At the far left and the extreme right of the field is all round "pincer movement conservative", just slightly batty elderman baby deliverer, Doctor Ron Paul. The only candidate to have taken part in the Civil War, Ron Paul was christened with two first names by his parents. They forgot to tack on his last name, making him familiar around women and endearing himself to them in ways that more manly men who are less skinny and less soft spoken and have surnames just can't manage. As a result, let's just say he got a reputation for being REAL friendly down at the maternity hospital.

On his down time, he likes playing air guitar with Sarah Palin (mimicking his brother Les) and masquerading as a gynaecologist. A common sense isolationist, his preference for leaving well enough alone instead of carpet bombing Somali villages has endeared him to Somali villagers throughout Somalia and London.

Middling in the foreground to the extreme right, we have legal cheese whizz kid and family friendly cheesy damp hands, Mister Ricky Froth. A relative newcomer to the game, Ricky has some acting experience, having played strait laced Deputy White House Communications Director Will Bailey in The West Wing after replacing Rob Lowe.
Ricky Froth


Lowe subsequently went on to star in quirky liberal fam dram, Siblings and Dribblings, but he got killed in a crash. Will this endear Mister Froth to the voters? After all, he is family friendly! Only time will tell.

To the right of center, except kind of more far right in a business sense, is Jobs Denier Creator Denier, Bishop of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, "The Mexican Him Very Self" "Glove" Rodney, "The Mook Mexican" Rodney.
Photo by Gage Skidmore

The first Hispastic Sistercian to rub for the Presidency on a Mormon ticket, rubbing his hands while he chants a mantra, he believes in things that you and I don't. He prays over the graves of vampires. But he's not a witch. He's not anything you've heard. He's YOU.


Finally, bringing up the rear on the right with a knife for the stabby stabby is an actual reptile, a slimy, sneaky, poisonous, toxic, disgusting, wart-spreading aberration of The Newt. The Newt has no class because of his arguable taxonomy. If you cut off his arm, it grows back. He has eleven tentacles inside his mouth, that blindly reach out and probe the surrounding ground, searching for prey. His teeth are as sharp as needles. At the end of each of his four earlobes - two on each ear - are found six lactating nipples, all the better to eat you with. Let me offer you a word of advice about The Newt: The Newt will run you down, and then The Newt will spit you out, and then The Newt will ride your ass, and then The Newt will bury you. It's all there, in the famous nursery rhyme. Out of respect for The Newt, we have avoided use of The Newt's image.

*All of the candidates advocate good neighborhoodship.

PUTIN WINS UNPRESIDENTED THIRD TERM

Box stuffing Vladimir Putin’s historic victory in the Russian presidential campaign came as a surprise to no one in Russia. No one that is, except for the teary eyed, much loved shadowy patriarch of the “great gassy bear that straddles the Urals”: To transliterate from the Cyrillic: Vladimir Putin, of Russia.

In a speech before nearly 31 people doctored to look like 100,000 outside the Vatican Kremlin, the winner of the rigged election talked about how Russia has changed over two decades, from a country with coffee shops that sold “horrible, horrible tea, flavoured with a spoonful of jam, in the Soviet fashion”, to a country with coffee shops that sold “many, many different kinds of much lovelier horrible tea. Not just the horrible tea we once had to tolerate. Today, horrible green teas…and we have the horrible camomile teas, we also have a kind of peppermint tea, which is also of a horrible quality, as well as another class of a horrible thing called nettle tea? – but not just those, but many more great choices when it comes to the horrible tea. The one choice of horrible tea is no longer good enough for the Russian people. Thanks to their demands, today many more choices of the teas are horrible! And not just teas. Ladies and gentlemen, we also have horrible cigarettes. We used to have horrible cigarettes that were stale. Today, we can enjoy horrible cigarettes! And we even have horrible medicines, and even clothing that is horrible. It is all horrible. A horrible country! An entire federation made horrible - by me!” The Supreme Leader then wept, dried his eyes, and was seen winking as he gave his nose a good pick with his thumb and he looked at his predecessor, Dmitry the Good, and winked again, because he’d actually been crying with tears of laughter.

Photo courtesy www.kremlin.ru
Mr Putin then pulled his jacket and shirt over his head dramatically to reveal a large bosom held up in what appeared to be a bra, hanging from which was a large handgun, with a wonderfully ornate pearl mother of Chechen bone handle. It turned out that what had seemed a bra, was actually a manly holster for the President's big gun.

Unfortunately, the Supreme Leader’s hair had also come off with his clothes. At that point, Dmitry the Good stepped forward to spray a canister over Putin’s head. Whatever the canister emitted produced a few wisps atop the former JCB man’s bald pate, so that the Grand Kap-eee-tan of the Russian Oligarchy was suddenly a bit more “youngful” again.

“Youngful I look, and youngful I am. Just two or three weeks ago I was out collecting the archaeology. I proved the greatness of Russia throughout the centuries. I say to the Russian people that just as I reveal the past greatness of Russia, I shall lead this great and horrible country – out of the world recession. One two three KABLAMMO! Glory to Russia!”

Dmitry the Good pulled out a calculator and a pair of spectacles, totted up the figures, and nodded in agreement. Putin begins his unpresidented third term as leader whenever he likes.

Mad mother proven correct for once, admit Gardai

Two teenage girls had a lucky escape after fending off a potential kidnapper. On Thursday at around 7.20pm, on a tertiary road between Bray and Powerscourt in County Wicklow, a man tried to pull a thirteen year old girl off her bicycle and into a blue van.
One of the blue vans that was not at the scene on Thurday. Photo courtesy of Gerald Fischer-Bernsteiner

The girls were cycling to a house of a relative of the fourteen year old girl when the attempted attack took place.

“I’m going door to door, telling all the neighbours to be careful, that there is a predator on the prowl,” the mother of one of the girls said.

However, the same woman has been warning neighbours about predators of all sorts for years, having been diagnosed with schizophrenia in 1996. Police have been forced to admit that the psychologically unwell mother is now in fact correct.

The potential kidnapper grabbed the girl (13), pulling her from her bicycle by her Arran cardigan, and dragging her towards the van. The second girl stopped, got off her bicycle and both girls then fended off their attacker, who fled in a navy blue van with a registration plate that is believed to be of Wexford origin.

Another blue van car definitely not at the scene yesterday. Photo courtesy of Berresfords Motors.

The van is described by Sgt John Vickers of Bray Garda Station based on statements given to him as “kind of like a van but it’s totally a car really like.” He added that it is “kind of a bit sorta hatch backy, except with, like, sort of like a flat straight back, like, with two doors on the back?”

After the altercation, the man, described as “wearing a baseball cap with a funny design on it and he had, like, kind of fair skin, but you couldn’t see his colour hair” drove off in the direction of Pyjama Planet, a large retail outlet that sells night wear and bed related accessories.

The warehouse sized store is open Monday to Wednesday, 9am to 6pm, and Thursday and Friday, 9am to 9pm. It also opens on Saturday from midday until 4pm.

In the meantime, the teenage girls have now begun to quarrel with each other as to which of them is more attractive. They had always agreed that the 14 year old was better looking. However, given that the man could have easily chosen either of the girls, the attempted attack on the 13 year old has given her a little bit of a confidence boost.