Campaign for Special Rural Driving Test

Tommy, did you see that fellow who put that comment on your bit about How things are up your end - when I saw him first I thought he might be a Theologian or an Accountant but apparently he’s involved in politics. I was wondering if we might get him to launch the campaign for the launch of the special rural driving test that incorporates drink driving as part of it. He’d probably do it for nothing whereas if we got Eamon Dunphy down or managed to resuscitate Shane McGowan they would both probably charge a fee. What do you reckon Tommy? We’re still flooded down this end, there’s swans swimming below at the cross and the council have closed the road. The forecast is not looking great either.

Bartley "Mind the Nettles" Flanagan gets his Ass arrested

Good Man Larry.
I’m sure you remember how in the old days you could amble out of the pub, climb into the cart and your faithful donkey would deliver you safely to your door – well old Bartley "Mind the Nettles" Flanagan tried this last month. He thought there wasn’t a thing the gaurds could do since he wasn’t driving, but didn’t they pull him and bag the donkey. The miserable creature had been at the leaky beer barrels at the back of the pub. He’s due in court next month – It’s not the first donkey the Judge has had up before him on drink driving charges.
Regards,
Tommy.

Drink Driving

Well there was a fair aul’ stir in town yesterday, Tommy. Only took me half an hour to get there in the tractor. No sign of any Guards. Anyway I got me few messages; beans were half price in Supervalu. Bought two dozen. Them fuckin’ tins are only half filled with beans anyway. I remember a time when a tin would last me a day and a half. Down to Reillys with me then and didn’t I bump into the Hanrahans: Paudie and Marty. I had five pints and then a brandy and port for the road. Coming out the door the air hit me and I felt a bit woozy right enough but I remembered where I parked the tractor and I managed to walk along the edge of the footpath without falling. I was the grandest. Sure any man that’s not fit to drive after a few drinks is only a girl's blouse.
It’s past time they incorporated drink driving into the rural driving test anyway. If they tested everyone once every two years on it and gave you a certificate to say you were safe to drive after a few pints then you could show that to the barman and the Guards if they stopped you. The barman would give you the number of drinks it said on the cert if you were driving.If the Guards stopped you they could test you to see had you any more drink on you.

On the way to the tractor I bumped into Guard Hughes.
‘Howaya Larry, are you ready for the Christmas.?’
‘Am I fuck!……. how are all the Hughes' keeping?’
He was telling me his mother Maggie has a bad dose of the shingles.
I danced her in the good old days: she was a great goer on the dance floor, but slow enough at everything else.
Anyway I drove home in twenty minutes, I felt like I was flying. What a feeling! Operation freeflow is working. Never mind what that shower of fuckin’ whingers above in Dublin are saying. Always fuckin moanin’ they’re as soft as loose shite up there. Any news up your side Tommy?

Things up my end.

Things arn't great up my end, but we don't want to lower the tone of the place before we even start. Suffice to say that the doctor has put me on a high fibre diet. Jeo Ferry has asked me to tell those lads swimming in the flood in his back fields that that land was sprayed with enough chemicals to trigger a US invasion last summer, so if bits start falling off them in a few days they have only themselves to blame. See how impressed the girls will be then?