Bad Advice for Good People (a column by Patrick Freyne)
In anticipation of our National Day Patrick entreats us to remember how his namesake St. Patrick freed us from the British.
St. Patrick never thought of expense hungry councillors when he founded the nation state.
When St Patrick founded this country on the steps of the Ann Summers shop in 1916, he never foresaw the wrack and ruin Kildare’s expense-happy councillors would bring down on the nation’s head. Apparently last year the councillors of Kildare racked up more than 300,000 Euro of expenses on top of their already quite hefty payroll of over 400,000 Euro.
You could put a man into space for that.
I suggest that this year we do put a man into space. We could start by sending up a sheep in a pod. If that works, we could have a lottery to select one resident of the greater Kildare area and fire them up into the cosmos.
What do councillors do? Nothing. And what do astronauts do? Lots.
So why don’t we transfer the expense money over to Kildare’s space-department (which is located in the Ballymany Shopping Centre in Newbridge) and then we could become the first county in Ireland with an astronaut! This would be good for tourism, the technology industry, and manufacturers of space-outfits.
We would also have a fella really high-up who could tell us if the British were coming.
St. Patrick never thought of ill-disciplined students when he died fighting British Imperialism
As St. Patrick fought off the British oppressors during the famine, he never cast a thought to the ungrateful brats currently frequenting our schools.
There is a high level report currently circulating in the Department of Education on how to deal with the rising levels of ill-discipline. Some think the law should be changed to bring back corporal punishment, but if I had my way teachers would have the right to use capital punishment. Think of all the problems which could be eliminated by weeding out the trouble-makers at that early stage of the game. Currently youngsters are running riot in our class-rooms: having sex, shooting up crank, firing weapons into the air and listening to loud music.
Why should they have all the fun? Who said the children are our future? The children are their future. I’m my future. Let’s round them all up and have them killed! It’s what St. Patrick would have wanted.
St. Patrick never thought of the Eurovision song-contest as he sat down to write the National Anthem
As St. Patrick sat down with his Casio X20 to write our national anthem, he could never have foreseen the kind of schlock that was destined to represent our country in successive Eurovision song-contests.
This year we have reached a new low with Brian Kennedy, a Latvian, performing a piece called “Every song is a cry for love.” A cry of pain more like!
Did St. Patrick beat Queen Victoria in a bare knuckled boxing match at Donnelly’s Hollow for this? I think not. He would be quivering with rage. He would be swinging his huge arms (one tattooed with a picture of Cathleen Ni. Houlihan, the other etched with a likeness of Jack Charlton) preparing to rend Kennedy limb from limb. That’s not music. The National Anthem is music!
And on that note I think I should join together to sing those words that St. Patrick wrote:
There’s something strange,
In the neighbourhood,
Who you gonna call?
Ghostbusters!
There’s something strange,
And it don’t look good,
Who you gonna call?
Ghostbusters!
Now that’s what I call music!
This is my best advice yet.
Disclaimer: seek legal, spiritual, and financial guidance from an expert before taking any of Freyne’s advice.
In anticipation of our National Day Patrick entreats us to remember how his namesake St. Patrick freed us from the British.
St. Patrick never thought of expense hungry councillors when he founded the nation state.
When St Patrick founded this country on the steps of the Ann Summers shop in 1916, he never foresaw the wrack and ruin Kildare’s expense-happy councillors would bring down on the nation’s head. Apparently last year the councillors of Kildare racked up more than 300,000 Euro of expenses on top of their already quite hefty payroll of over 400,000 Euro.
You could put a man into space for that.
I suggest that this year we do put a man into space. We could start by sending up a sheep in a pod. If that works, we could have a lottery to select one resident of the greater Kildare area and fire them up into the cosmos.
What do councillors do? Nothing. And what do astronauts do? Lots.
So why don’t we transfer the expense money over to Kildare’s space-department (which is located in the Ballymany Shopping Centre in Newbridge) and then we could become the first county in Ireland with an astronaut! This would be good for tourism, the technology industry, and manufacturers of space-outfits.
We would also have a fella really high-up who could tell us if the British were coming.
St. Patrick never thought of ill-disciplined students when he died fighting British Imperialism
As St. Patrick fought off the British oppressors during the famine, he never cast a thought to the ungrateful brats currently frequenting our schools.
There is a high level report currently circulating in the Department of Education on how to deal with the rising levels of ill-discipline. Some think the law should be changed to bring back corporal punishment, but if I had my way teachers would have the right to use capital punishment. Think of all the problems which could be eliminated by weeding out the trouble-makers at that early stage of the game. Currently youngsters are running riot in our class-rooms: having sex, shooting up crank, firing weapons into the air and listening to loud music.
Why should they have all the fun? Who said the children are our future? The children are their future. I’m my future. Let’s round them all up and have them killed! It’s what St. Patrick would have wanted.
St. Patrick never thought of the Eurovision song-contest as he sat down to write the National Anthem
As St. Patrick sat down with his Casio X20 to write our national anthem, he could never have foreseen the kind of schlock that was destined to represent our country in successive Eurovision song-contests.
This year we have reached a new low with Brian Kennedy, a Latvian, performing a piece called “Every song is a cry for love.” A cry of pain more like!
Did St. Patrick beat Queen Victoria in a bare knuckled boxing match at Donnelly’s Hollow for this? I think not. He would be quivering with rage. He would be swinging his huge arms (one tattooed with a picture of Cathleen Ni. Houlihan, the other etched with a likeness of Jack Charlton) preparing to rend Kennedy limb from limb. That’s not music. The National Anthem is music!
And on that note I think I should join together to sing those words that St. Patrick wrote:
There’s something strange,
In the neighbourhood,
Who you gonna call?
Ghostbusters!
There’s something strange,
And it don’t look good,
Who you gonna call?
Ghostbusters!
Now that’s what I call music!
This is my best advice yet.
Disclaimer: seek legal, spiritual, and financial guidance from an expert before taking any of Freyne’s advice.
