Do you know that if you don't understand Russian but attempt to talk a Russian using sign language and wild gesticulations they'll look at you as if they have no idea what you're on about and get cross and walk off when you start shouting at them?

Fucking cunting Russians.

Morning dear readers,

as I may have mentioned, or more likely forgotten in a drunken stupour, I am currently away from Dublin in a highly secret location carrying out important negotiations which could have a major influence on the world today as we know it.

Should all things go well then I will have wiped out an entire race of people, exterminated at least 18 endangered species, destroyed some priceless artifacts and taken a large number of snapshots of me pooing on the corpses/wreckage.

More to follow...

...use a Justin Timberlake song to describe this morning's stool it would be 'Poo me a river'.

So yesterday a couple of members of a well known criminal gang set off to rob a post office in north county Dublin. Somehow the Gardai got wind of this and set off to stop them. When they arrived there was a bit of a shoot-out, Deadwood style, and now there are two less scumbags on the streets.

The gang had been responsible for numerous armed robberies around Dublin and it's thought the money they'd have stolen from this one was to be use to fund a major drugs purchase and there were links between these men, their boss and the IRA. All in all the world is a better place without these cunts.

However, I read this morning that Amnesty International have called for an inquiry into the shooting. I'd just like to take this opportunity to tell Amnesty International to go fuck themselves the fucking cunts. What the fuck are they on about?

These were seasoned criminals, who had they got away with this one would have just carried on stealing, robbing and possibly killing or injuring innocent people. I'm quite sure they'd have shot the fuck out of whoever was in their way yesterday had they not had their faces blown off first. Quite why Amnesty feels they should get involved in beyond me. They should stick to campaigns about South American poets who have been in jail for the last 20 years and proper human rights abuses. As far as I'm concerned if you go around with a shotgun or other weapon, attempt to steal money and are prepared to use extreme force then you forfeit your human rights.

If you get shot in the bollocks, tough fucking shit, you cunt. If you're badly injured and in pain I'll laugh at you while you writhe around on the floor. If you die I won't shed a fucking tear.

Well done to the Gardai, I've long advocated the need to rid Dublin of criminals and putting them in jail doesn't do the job. Only killing them to death, fatally, will work. Keep it up, boyos.

...coffee, first thing in the morning, really makes me need to poo.

Continuing the theme from yesterday I got to thinking about what the world would be like if there really were mythical creatures like you read about in books. Imagine a place where there were unicorns, dragons, griffins and Red Indians. What fun places zoos would be, eh?

PLEASE DO NOT PUT YOUR HAND THROUGH THE BARS - THE DRAGON WILL EAT IT.

Obviously these mythical creatures were born out of ignorance, people had no access to the internet back then to identify the things they saw for the first time. Most to blame, of course, were sailors.

Yes, they were brave men who sailed the seas in wooden ships, coping with massive waves, vicious storms and gales and having only barrels of rum and anal sex with each other to keep them sane. But every time they saw something new it immediately became a 'SEA MONSTER'.

It's 1492, Columbus is sailing towards America. One of the crew shouts "Arrr, there be a sea monster!". Further inspection reveals it to be a moray eel. A while later, "Arrrr, another sea monster. Hold me close, deck-hand! Closer. Closer. Arrr, that's it."

Anyway, all these sea monsters turned out to be sharks, whales, giant eels, manta rays, giant squid, octopii and rock singer Meatloaf.

Now, regular readers might think that I have a point to make in order to finish off this post. However, the sad truth is...

....with a Star Wars feel. Read. Enjoy. New Dangermaus!

Fucking scorpions, and I don't mean the German soft-rock band either, nor do I mean actually fucking scorpions. It would be impossible anyway because female scorpions don't have a gee and shoot their babies out of their mouths.

Scorpions are absolute and utter cunts with no regard for anybody's feelings. They scuttle around looking for people to stab with their tails, very much like the people of Limerick.

They're sneaky little cunts too, hiding in your boots so not only do they sting you in the foot you most likely crush them when you put your boots on. I don't know about you but the idea of crushing a scorpion with my bare foot makes me want to vomit. Having scorpion guts on the outside and scorpion poison on the inside - that's a double-whammy.

Scorpions are racists too. They mostly sting black people or people who live in jungles or deserts. That's pretty fucking harsh from what's essentially an arachnid on steroids. They're also complete cowards lacking any kind of spine.

Some scorpions can grow to the size of a labrador puppy. These are called mega-scorpions. If you ever get trapped in alleyway by one of these stand perfectly still. It's not that they can't see you, they can, but they're total copycats and if you stand still they'll stand still. Scorpions are lazy too and can fall asleep standing up. When this happens you can sneak off.

Scorpions are afraid of only three things:

1- Fire: They will try and sting themselves to death if surrounded by fire. Scorpions are fucking stupid too because they are immune to their own venom.

2 - Mongooses: Mongooses love to eat scorpions and often have barbequeues and invite all their mongoose chums around for a scorpion buffet.

3 - Cabbage: If you cover a scorpion in cabbage it will explode. If you're going to a scorpion infested country like Wales or the Isle of Man it's always a good idea to have some cabbage in your pocket. It might stink but if you get attacked by a gang of vicious stabbing scorpions you'll be glad you had it.

In conclusion scorpions are fucking cunts.

So Dermot Desmond, half-reverse brother of Bishop Desmond Tutu, is looking to open a casino in Dublin.

Me and Jimmy the Bollix and Ron the Barman's brother, Staring Larry, spent a week in Las Vegas once. Larry speaks about three words a year but is some kind of savant so he has this head for numbers that can't be beaten. He can also count cards as quick as any dealer can deal them. So we went with Larry and began to clean up playing 21. They brought over different dealers, when we'd won about $25,000 they were offering us suites for the night, when we were up to $40,000 they started getting really suspicious and when we had won $75,000 between 21 and roulette we could feel every camera in the place aimed at us.

The floor manager of the casino came over to congratulate Larry on his run of good luck and said "Well son, you're the most natural card shark I've ever seen."

That was his big mistake. Larry has an unnatural fear of sharks and the word 'shark' makes him go completely mental. What was also unfortunate is that Larry was born with a slight birth defect which left him with an enormous right arm which kind of hangs backwards and at the end is a watermelon of a fist. He doesn't seem to have any sensation in it either although he can use it fine. One of Ron's party tricks was stabbing Larry right through his arm with a large kitchen knife. He never even flinched.

So, after scaring the shite out the madman the floor boss found himself being clubbed repeatedly by a giant arm and monstrous fist while Larry screamed 'SHARK! SHARK! SHARK! SHARK! SHARK!' over and over again in the voice of Marlon Brando from the Godfather, his favourite film of all time.

By the time the security guys had got over the floor manager had been battered to the ground and was vomiting everywhere because Larry's jacket had come off and he could see the deformed arm which, to be fair, is absolutely minging to look at.

Anyway, we got kicked out and they wouldn't let us keep our winnings saying the money would pay for the reconstructive surgery the blood and vomit covered floor manager would need.

So, obviously when this casino in Dublin opens we're going to be there in a fucking shot, Larry in tow. If you're working there my advice is leave us alone or I'll say 'SHARK!' and let Larry and his poxy arm take care of you.

I went to see this on Friday night. There are many times in my life I've wished for a lightsabre. Or a lightsabre-toothed tiger. Come on technology, get with the times. Overall I thought it was pretty good although George Lucas is to writing dialogue what Elton John is to not taking it up the chuff. Anyway, I thought you might be interested in some little known Star Wars facts.

- The character of Han Solo was originally to be called 'Malachy Magopaleen' but Lucas changed it at the last minute when Harisson Ford punched him in the testicles.

- All Ewoks from Return of the Jedi were burnt to death at the end of shooting. Sadly some dwarves were unable to remove their costumes and perished in searing agony.

- Carrie Fisher once got roasted by Chewbacca and Lando Calrissian on the roof of the Millenium Falcon.

- RD+D2-C3/PO = Pi

- In his school reports Lucas was called a 'weakly skulker' by teachers. Scribbling that down on a piece of paper he re-arranged the letters and came up with the name 'Luke Skywalker'. He was unable to do anything with the phrase 'Must work harder, the beardy shite.'

- The US government under Ronald Reagan was well known for its 'Star Wars' defence program but not many people realise they've been building a real life Death Star on the dark side of the moon.

- Every single storm trooper was gay.

- Former Irish footballer Paul McGrath played bounty hunter Bobba Fett in the new series of films but he was digitally replaced by a completely different actor after he kept turning up on set eating kebabs. George Lucas is violently allergic to red cabbage.

- Jabba the Hut's character was based on how Karen Carpenter saw herself when she looked in the mirror.

- Yoda said "Fear is the path to the dark side". Other paths to the dark side include religion, not drinking enough alcohol, Damien Rice and capers.

So there are some Star Wars facts for you to amaze your friends and colleagues with today. May the force be with you, go now or forever hold your peace. Or something.

Ireland's gay community was in mourning last night when our entry for the Eurovision song contest failed to make it through the semi-finals. The song 'Love?' sung by a seemingly handicapped brother and sister duo from Athlone was deemed 'utter shite' by voters across Europe.



Look at the fuckers though. I know people can't help the way they look but there was no need, out of all the contestants who entered, to choose the ugliest pair in all of Ireland. One chap seems particularly delighted with their failure, and who can blame him?

The only people that ugly who should be seen in public are politicians whose ugliness makes them successful, the ugly cunts.

The McCauls are so ugly if they lay on a beach a cat would try and bury them.

No doubt it was yet another cunning ploy by RTE to ensure Ireland don't win the competition so they don't have to cough up all the money needed to host the thing. Next year our contestants will be a couple of piss stained tramps, and I don't mean Paris Hilton and Wayne Rooney's bird.

Anyway, the Eurovisios has been shi'ite since they let Israel in. I might just go see that Star Wars - Revenge of the cist thing instead.

The moment you've been waiting all week for. Well, three of you have anyway. Ok, two. Ok then, me. New Dangermaus!!

It's a sad fact of Irish life that we've never had any superheroes - a normal person by day who has extra powers which he can use to save ordinary citizens from peril and danger from Machiavellian villains like Lex Luthor, the Green Goblin and Michael McDowell. So I got to thinking about this shocking deficiency and decided to invent a few myself. If anyone of you decide to take on the mantle of one of the heroes I give you below you need only pay me a small fee. So here goes:

Blackman: With so many bogus fugees in the country right now the stock of the dark man is pretty low. What better way to help integrate them into Irish society than a superhero who saves women from burning buildings, rescues cats from trees, disembowels travellers and Romanians, and who, when the job is done, can serenade us all with sweet soul music and hand out delicious fried chicken? Go Blackman!

AIDSman: With a costume that turns him into the shape of a giant cock, AIDSman's foes will be all the cunts in Ireland, inserting himself into them and shooting them full of creamy AIDS. Achill Island will be cleared and made into a colony where they're then sent to die. Go AIDSman!

The Scuttery Fart: When gangs of crusties go on a march with their bongos, lice and poorly-spelled banners to try and 'reclaim the streets' all we'll need is an appearance from The Scuttery Fart to clear them away. He'll get himself into the middle of the crowd then do one of those farts that dribbles a little bit of yellow poo down your leg. New technologies involving Guinness and kebabs will ensure his scuttery farts are two-hundred times more powerful than normal. The stench will drive away the crusties, some of whom will impale themselves on the gates of Trinity College to escape the odour of death than emanates from his roaring red ringpiece. Go The Scuttery Fart!

Joe de Taxi: Joe will have a special car, like Batman's except it can carry 7 and a baby's buggy, which can snatch people from the streets with lightning fast pincers. Whenever a fight is about to start outside Club 92 Joe de Taxi will sense it, grab one of the fighting groups and then drive them home, all the while telling them about how things were much better 'back in de day, y'know'. Go Joe de Taxi.

The Judge: Able to transform himself into any Judge in the country this superhero wouldn't pay attention to the secret societies that exist to protect high profile people from people ever finding out all the shit they get up to. He'd sentence child molesters and make them reveal what they know instead of just giving them a slap on the wrist in return for their silence. Go The Judge!

Pants on Fireman: As well as getting the cities firefighters to finally put some clothes on this hero would have the power to immolate anybody caught lying in public. Able to flit between Dail Eireann, any gathering of Northern Ireland politicians and OJ Simpson's house within seconds a few sacrificial lambs would ensure the world is a better, most honest place. Go Pants on Fireman!

The Moving Statue: This stealth hero or heroine will take on the shape of a statue of the Virgin Mary. Actually, this will have to be a woman because all male superheroes have enormous testicles which would be hard to conceal. Anyway, The Moving Statue would be present at the meetings of all the top criminals in the country and nobody would bat an eyelid because they're all deeply religious, being priests and bishops an' all. When they reveal their next dastardly plan The Moving Statue leaps forward and knocks them all out with a boxing glove on a spring that shoots from her quim. Uppercut-tastic! Go The Moving Statue!

There are just a few potential superheroes - and you'll note I didn't mention anything about Potato Man, The Drunken Writer or The Swimming Coach. Can you think of any more?

Testing some wee thingy called Ecto which allows you to post to blogger without logging into blogger which is handy because blogger, like Ron the Barman, can be a right cunt sometimes.

Technorati Tags: cunt

So Darth McDowell announced Operation Anvil, a €6.5m assault on organised crime in Dublin. Sadly it's based around overtime for Gardai and not the Coyote trying to drop an anvil on the Roadrunner thing I thought it might be. Fighting organised crime with slapstick comedy is something they may have to look at in the future though.

Perhaps instead of paying all that money to the police for working extra hours they could make a gameshow out of it that people all over the country could take part in. Here's what they should do.

Release a list and photograph of anyone known to be involved in organised crime. Then put up a cash prize for each one that is captured or killed. Let's say you get €10,000 for each one you capture and €5,000 for each one you kill making it more rewarding, although certainly riskier, to keep them alive. For the guys at the upper echelons of the criminal underworld you could double or triple that. Most of them are soaking it up in Alicante anyway so it would be more of a challenge to get them back to Ireland.

When captured they choose two options.

1- Be tried on TV by a jury of D-list celebrities such as Ronan Keating, Dana, the black guy who used to busk on Grafton Street, Gavin Lambe Murphy, Ryle Nugent, Tony Fenton and so on. Chairing the jury would be Questions and Answers host John Bowman and the judge would be Ray D'Arcy. Captured criminals would be entitled to legal representation from mentally handicapped people dressed in giant panda suits for comedy purposes.

2 - A three round fight with one of the following opponents: A Kodiak bear, Roy Keane or a velociraptor. If they survive the fight they can go free once they've been set on fire three hundred yards from a lake. If they survive that they can go live a normal life after years of painful reconstructive surgery.

This idea gives the general public a chance to make some money, would provide fantastic entertainment for those only willing to watch and would massively increase vigilantism, shoot-outs and give the undertaking business the boost it needs in these days of long life since the smoking ban.

Fighting organised crime will never have been such fun. How long before Tyrone Productions come up with the idea for themselves?

I was in the pub the other night with Jimmy the Bollix and we got to talking about the internet. He's always thought my interest in it was suspect, to say the least, but he started asking me questions about the site.

Says he "This old blogging shite you're into. It's a bit of crack is it?"

"It is" says I.

"And you can just spout your usual shite and give your witty and often hilarious stories a wider audience than us cunts in the bar?"

"That I can."

"And it's free to set one of these things up, you say?"

"It is. You just choose a name and away you go. Even a fucking mallet-headed cunt like you could do it", I replied.

"And there's no limit on what you can say? Whatever you feel like writing that's ok?"

"Exactly."

"And it's definitely free?", he asked again. Jimmy's great-Grandfather was Jewish but don't mention that to him.

"Totally free," I assured him.

"Right" he says. "Sure maybe I'll have a crack at it. Anyway, enough dorky internet talk. What about them Shamrock Rovers?"

So that was that. I didn't think much more about it until I woke up this morning and found an email waiting for me.

From: jimmythebollix@youareacunt.com
Subject: Check this out
Date: May 17, 2005 11:52:37 PM GMT+00.00
To: twentymajor@gmail.com

Have a look at this you cunt.

Jimmy.

Har har, Jimmy. Truly you are a bollix amongst men.

Last night I had a dream that I was walking down Grafton Street and their were all sorts of street entertainers juggling, fire-eating, busking and doing that thing where they stand really still until someone puts some money in their tray and they come to life as if by magic.

All the entertainers were former boy band members made up as minstrels. Members of Take That, East 17, Boyzone, 911 , Westlife and many more whose names I don't know were now making their livings on the streets. Then it occurred to me that these minstrels were actually very dangerous zombies who would try and take over the running of the country from our super-efficient new government headed by Johnny Giles.

I had to then destroy them by cutting them in half with what can only be described as a cross between a machete and a scythe. At first people were shocked to see a blacked-up Bryan McFadden spilling his guts out on the street but as he died he grew fangs and looked all minging so everyone knew all the other minstrels were dangerous and they started chopping them in half too. Soon Grafton Street was awash with blood and guts with a Sunshine 101 'eye-in-the-sky' helicopter reported from above while playing Echo and the Bunnymen songs.

Then I woke up and went for a piss.

It's something I've been thinking of for a while now and I'm not sure the state is making proper use of orphans. While all sorts of groups bleat on at the government about their rights or the rights of others we're neglecting a percentage of the population that can be used and exploited with little accountability should anything go wrong.

'But what exactly do you mean?' I hear you ask. Well, here are some ways we could make better use of orphans in Ireland.

Animal testing: With bleeding heart liberals and softly spoken crusties against testing cosmetics, drugs and brain surgery on animals why not use orphans? We'll get more insight testing on them because they're human and not monkeys or beagle puppies. Plus if anything goes wrong who's going to come looking for them? Nobody, that's who.

Assassins: As you'll have read yesterday Ireland has a lot of enemies across the globe. Let's train some orphans to be ruthless assassins and take out the leaders of our foes. They'll be without conscience and won't be worrying about getting home to their families because they don't have families, making them the most cold-blooded killers the world has ever seen.

Back-street surgeons: Knowing they have nobody to take them to task for their career choice we could help the hospital waiting lists by steering them in the direction of back-street surgery. For a small fee patients can get any operation performed within hours of their first consultation. They will all be called Dr Nick.

Horse-whisperers: Who better to train a horse to do what it's told than someone who has no compunction in punching the horse in the face because they know their mam and dad can't say anything to them because they're dead.

"Listen up you cunting nag, either you fucking sort yourself out and start cantering and galloping properly and stop that bucking and kicking or I'm going to tar the fucking life out of you, you long-faced, sugar lump loving cocksucker."

Orphan makers: When they get a bit older and near the end of their usefulness we can get a boy orphan and a girl orphan, mate them and when the young are born we can kill the parents creating a brand new baby orphan who will have years ahead of it to serve Ireland in an orphantastic way.

Can you think of any more uses for orphans, kids?

The latest edition of everybody's favourite site called Dangermaus has just been published. Go here now.

There was an outbreak of vandalism and graffiti in Dublin last night as the Jewish community found itself under attack. Anti-semetic slogans were painted on walls a the Jewish museum in Portobello, the Synagogue in Terenure and a Jewish graveyard in Dolphin's Barn.

To the untrained eye it seems like mindless and petty thuggery but to the keen and all seeing eye, like mine, it can only mean one thing.

There's been an outbreak of Palestinians in Dublin. All the evidence points to it. Targetting the Chief Rabbi, the massive increase in suicide graffiti artists and the opening of a suspicious looking restaurant on South William Street called 'Yassers'.

As well as that Irish people have too many other people to dislike ahead of the Jews. Although Pope Mel Gibson XVI taught us that they, and they alone, were responsible for the death of our Lord Jesus Christ most of us take a more pragmatic view of that situation. Jesus was the very first crusty, wandering round in robes, with a shaggy beard and using poetry and 'meaningful' stories at every opportunity. As such most of us would have been glad to see the back of him if he'd been around now but would accept that the whole torture and cricifixion thing was a little on the harsh side.

When you look at it historically we have too many other groups to which we train our ire to bother with painting stuff like 'On yer bikes, kikes!' on walls. There's the English for a start, closely followed by the Australians for coming over here and using intonation which makes you think every sentence is a question; the Welsh for not losing in rugby, our arch-enemies in the Isle of Man who have for so long brought terror to our world with their threats of biological and chemical warfare; Romanians - who have punished us for beating them in the World Cup by sending most of their population here to beg and scrounge a living off the hard-working people of our fair isle; the indecisive people of Northern Ireland - when are you lot going to make your minds up about anything?!; Finnish people who have ruined countless lives with their addictive glassware; those bastards from Equatorial New Guineau - you fuckers know why and don't try and pretend you don't; the dirty, no good population of Chad who make it their life's work to finish off your crossword when you leave it down in the pub for just a second and go for a piss - you come back and they've finished your Simplex. That, my friends, is just the tip of the iceberg.

So as you can see there's no possible way it was Irish people responsible for this vandalism and my Palestinian theory is the only possible explanation. Irish people are kind, tolerant and not at all destructive in any way - especially to the good people who provide us with delicious cakes in the Bretzel Bakery each morning.

As the song taught us so well so many years ago "Hey,Graffitiers, leave those Jews alone!"

I read this morning that PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) are to hand out buckets of fake blood and bones to schoolchildren as a protest against KFC.

Now, while KFC certainly deserve a good kicking for their singing commercials, these PETA cunts do my fucking head in.

'PETA claim KFC executives would go to jail if they treated cats or dogs the way they treated chickens.' I don't see PETA campaigning outside any of Dublin's many Chinese restaurants, do you? Yet they roam the streets for strays and people's pets to serve up to us as chicken or pork. Where are you then, PETA, you glory-hunting cocksmokers?

These kind of shock tactics are just ridiculous though. You can make your point without buckets of blood - look at what happened when those crazy teenagers tried it in Carrie. Are PETA prepared for the consequences if one of the schoolkids has mind bending powers and sets everyone on fire and stuff? No doubt they'll blame it on the chemicals that are put into meat or something.

While I'm all for animals not being tortured what PETA fail to realise is that animals are food and most, if not all, of them are delicious. Vegetarianism is a disease like anorexia, bulimia and AIDS and if they start young children down that path then so help me I'm going to kidnap them and force-feed them meat, especially veal, until they puke. Then I'll make them eat their own meaty vomit.

They've tried shock-tactics before as well. Well known celebrities and models posing for pictures to protest against fur coats before they go home and have wild, cocaine fuelled sex in their mink coats on top of their ermine duvets. It's all a load of hypocritical monkey bollocks.

This quote from PETA: "We would never use shock tactics with children. Children are so naturally empathetic to animals that we focus on showing chickens as intelligent with distinctive personalities, just like pet cats and dogs."

Yes, look how intelligent this bucket of blood, beaks, bones and feathers is. Aren't they delightful creatures? If I knew where they were going to be I'd go down there wearing the fur of a little baby seal and throw the chops of little baby lambs and the livers and kidneys and little baby calves at them, the fucking cunts.

Children have enough crap to deal with - not getting raped, murdered, exams, having the latest mobile phone etc - without this to warp their tiny little minds even further.

So, to conclude, PETA are cunts and should fuck off. Thank you.

The President of the Vintner's Association has claimed that the new Café bar licences, like the one I spoke about yesterday, will only encourage binge drinking and he's very unhappy about that because he wants people to binge drink in pubs and not other places.

I think the new licences are a great idea. For too long we've been slaves to the pub. Now we can go elsewhere and get drinks. Perhaps it doesn't go too far though. Think of all the other great places you could have a beer.

- Petrol stations: How long does it take to fill your car up? Surely there's enough time for a pint. As you're putting petrol in the tank you could fill up a glass from the beer pump beside the petrol one.

- Waiting room: Doctors, dentists, hospitals, that place you get when you need a birth certificate. All boring as fuck. Slap a bar in the corner and it makes waiting much easier plus it would make people talk to each other more and make us more social.

- Church: Attendances at mass have been falling for years. I know I'd be tempted to go if I could sink a pint while the lad in the dress did his holy stuff up the top. Not many people know that the Catholic Church in Ireland is given a subsidy which would allow them to undercut the price of beer in bars by 50%. It's shocking they don't provide this service to their customers. Get with the times, Churchers.

- Taxis: Sometimes you can find yourself in a car with a very entertaining taxi driver. Other times you're in the car with someone you'd rather feed to a hungry panther. Having a hotel style mini-bar in the back would be a perfect way to make the uninteresting bloke more bearable.

- Supermarkets: What a pain in the hoop those places are. Install a bar and put a bar pint holder on the trolley and shopping will never be such fun. Incidents of trolley-rage would decrease sharply as people would be more relaxed and too much in need of a piss to fight.

- Intensive care units: Poor bloke, lying there all bandaged from head to toe after a horrific accident. In traction. Can't move his arms or legs. And we're denying him beer? What have we become? ICU pints could be delivered intravenously giving blessed relief to those who need it most.

- Courts: How many fuckers go to court every day and lie through their teeth? Loads of fuckers, that's how many. Lash a few beers into them though and they become braggers of the highest order and will admit and confess to the crimes they have committed. Easy.

Anywhere else you reckon we need beer?

I see these new 'Café bar' licences could be going for as little as €5,000. I'm thinking of getting one. I was talking about it with Jimmy the Bollix last night and we reckon we're going to find a little place, get the licence and open up serving delicious booze to deserving customers. We were thinking about Bewleys on Grafton Street, for the laugh, but decided all the wanky poet bastards in town would come to get in touch with literary Dublin and I don't want that.

See, people like that would have a coffee or perhaps a glass of shandy and sit all day writing their stupid poems. That sort of behaviour would be unacceptable in my café bar. Some of the rules we came up with were:

- You must drink booze of some kind. If you want coffee why not have a dash of rum or whiskey in it? Don't be a gay, Starbucks loving windbag. You can get coffee at home. Enjoy your time outside the house and have a proper drink.

- You must drink a regular amount of booze. One drink does not give you the right to sit at a table for hours and hours. You must drink at least two drinks an hour. The first time you fall below this standard you will be punched in the face as a reminder. The second time you will be escorted from the premises by two enormous black bouncers that I will import from New York.

- There will be no alcopops. It will be proper booze - beer, wine and spirits. Strawberry gins and anything in Liberace style coloured bottles is out. As is Red Bull, there's simply no call for that muck and anyone who drinks Vodka and Red Bull is a hopeless cunt. Asking for Red Bull will result in a punch in the face.

- Only people sitting at the bar may be miserable. If you're sitting at a table you must be jolly, laugh long and heartily and slap your thighs at regular intervals to display what a fine time you're having.

- There will be food. It will be nice. There will not, however, be wanky food like a 'Curtain of veal on a blanket of wild brown rice' or 'A medley of salmon served with a corpse of potatoes and a cable of fresh garden vegetables'. That sort of food is for cunts. There will be rolls with sausage, bacon and sausage, bacon, egg and sausage and bacon, egg, sausage and white pudding. They will be delicious and cheap. There may be chips. I haven't decided yet.

- There will be a juke box filled with fantastic songs which you can choose from at any time. There will also be one Damien Rice song. Anyone who chooses the Damien Rice song will be punched in the face until the song ends.

- You may smoke. Fuck those cunts.

- Tourists will be welcome but will pay a Tourist Charge of €5 per person. I think it's only fair. Spanish students will not be allowed. The management reserves the right to refuse admission to travellers.

And that's the plan. I'll give you the nod when we get our licence and location sorted out. I expect to see you all there...

Well, we all know that but is it just me or he slowly turning into Captain Kirk/William Shatner?

I watched him talking about his historic third term yesterday outside Downing Street and he might as well have been on the bridge of the Enterprise. With his style of speech and twitchy body movements he's a Kirk double. Watch closely next time you see him on telly.

"I know the ...warinIraqwas....deeply devisive...but I also ... knowandbelievethat ....after this election.... peoplewanttmoveon. They want to ... focusonthefuture... in Iraq... andhere."

Somebody beam the cunt up.

So criminal Mark Byrne was given a one day release rom Mountjoy Prison yesterday on compassionate leave. He left the jail, went into a shop and bought credit for his mobile phone and when he came out some bloke came up to him, shot him three times and killed him.

Gardai believe the information about his release came from inside the prison and are putting it down as another gangland killing, the fifth so far in Dublin this year.

And are we supposed to be shocked by this? I suppose somebody getting shot to death in broad daylight is a fairly new thing in Ireland, unless you're an investigative journalist in which case you'd be just waiting for it to happen. Anyway, shouldn't we just be thankful that the gangs are knocking each other off? Less scumbags on the street that way. The police, who are unarmed, can do fuck all about it really, better that the crims do the dirty work for them.

People might point to the growth of organised crime but I have already provided a near perfect solution to wiping it out altogether. Follow those simple steps and you're laughing.

Either that or we need an Irish Chopper Read who claims to have knocked off plenty of criminals in his time. He'd probably be called Basher Murphy or Slugger O'Toole or something. Given carte blanche he could assemble a team of crack assassins who plundered the depths of the criminal world torturing, maiming and killing until Ireland was a safe place again. Then we could send them to sort out the North.

Anyway, point is I'm not going to lose any sleep over a dead criminal. Neither should you. Unless you're a criminal.

I was asked every so nicely by that girl to do one of those answer questions someone else has on their blog things. I would like to make it clear that this is the only one I will ever do so the rest of you can cunt off. It's about books though and I like books. So here:

You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451. Which book do you want to be?

It's a long time since I read 451 but I think I would have to be Chronic Diarrhea - A Medical Dictionary, Bibliography, and Annotated Research Guide to Internet References. My reasons are my own.

Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?

I had a strange fondness for Timmy the dog from the Famous Five in that I could always see him mounting George and giving the wretched little tomboy a good going over. Is that wrong?

The last book you bought is?

The last book I remember buying was 'Gödel, Escher, Bach: an Eternal Golden Braid' which looks at the points of contact between the music of Bach, the artwork of Escher and the mathematics of Gödel.

That was a few months ago now and it's still sitting on the shelf daring me to get started on it. Which I haven't. Mostly because I have absolutely no interest in the music of Bach, the artwork of Escher and the mathematics of Gödel or what connects them. It has a lovely cover though and I will read it one day. Honest.

What are you currently reading?

One Step Behind by Henning Mankel. It's a Swedish crime novel. The most striking thing about it is how early the people in Sweden get up. They think nothing of waking at 4.30am which is quite insane but when you consider they eat elk bollocks and live beside those crazy Danes nothing should be a surprise.

Five books you would take to a desert island

1 - Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain. A top story from a booze guzzling, drug taking, knife wielding madman of a chef.

2 - Every single copy of the Davinci Code - on a desert island one needs fire and why chop down trees when this heap of badly written shite is crying out to be burnt? It is quite possibly one of the worst books I have ever read and it's not often I agree with the Vatican but I'm with them when they say Dan Brown should be raped, tortured, mutilated and have his body dragged around the streets after being tied to the arse of a spastic pony.

3 - Only a game - Eamon Dunphy. He might be a sickly looking, deliberately controversial, pen chucking windbag but this diary style book about a season as Milwall player is well worth a read.

4 - Fishing for Dummies. For tips on how to spear delicious battered cod and breaded plaice.

5 - Bloom County babylon. A compendium of the comic strip Bloom County which is funny.

Who are you going to pass this stick to (3 persons) and why?

When it did become obligatory to use persons instead of people? What's wrong with saying 3 people? Have you ever rung a restaurant and heard them say "And how many persons will be dining?"

Cunts. Just say people you fucking bastards. That drives me fucking mental.

A Dublin criminal known as the Little General was arrested yesterday in relation to a bank raid in Tallaght. His real name has not been released but I know who he is. Obviously then I can't name him but I can tell you some things about him and you should tell all your friends so that when they hear about the Little General they immediately associate these things with him.

So here are some facts about the Little General from Dublin:

He likes to dress up in women's clothes, particularly 'sexy' basques and suspenders which he buys from Ann Summers.

His favourite TV show is 'Will and Grace'

He likes to sing songs by Barbara Streisand, Liza Minelli and Brian Kennedy

He's an enormous fan of Siegfried and Roy and personally sent a bunch of pansies to Roy when he had his head nearly bitten off by one of their tigers

He's a friend of Dorothy

He drinks in the Front Lounge and his favourite part of the pub is the back passage near the toilets

He once won €65 playing Telly Bingo

He enjoys fisting fishing

He likes a nice piece of fruit

He loves brown eyes

He's got a tiny cock which wakes him up every morning

He adores sports - in particular any game which involves balls

His hobbies include lifting shirts, packing fudge and biting pillows

So now you know a little bit about Dublin's newest and most outrageous criminal, the Little General.

Finally for today you'll be glad to know that after a couple of weeks away due to circumstances beyond anyone's control Dangermaus is back in orbit. Read all about it here

Why is it ok for us to moan and bitch and make fun of illegal immigrants that come here, offering them fuck all apart from healthy social welfare payments and a place to stay at Ireland's finest holiday home, yet the Catholic Church and Fine Gael are set to lobby the US Government over the 50,000 illegal Irish in the states? They say administrative changes should be made, just for the Irish, because illegal Irish are missing out on important family matters back here because they're afraid to leave America in case they can't get back in. Well, boo fucking hoo. They knew what they were doing when they left.

It's not like the old days when their were no jobs here and all the spuds had gone bad. How can they ask for the Irish to be treated differently from the Mexicans and all the other kinds of Goobacks that live illegally in America? They're as illegal, if perhaps not as smelly (although I'm ignoring people from Offaly - Ireland's smelliest county - in all this), as all the others.

Proper Irish hypocrisy that. I say get the 50,000 Irish and make them fight 50,000 Mexicans or Eduadorians or Canadians in Gangs of New York style and whoever is left standing can stay and continue working in Irish bars, theme parks, kitchens and underground zinc mines.

Anyway, can't the illegals just marry an American and get a green card? There must be a huge business opportunity there although I remember some film with that French bloke with the enormous nose marrying some girl and it seemed a little bit difficult in that they had to be seen to be living together as man and wife.

If Hollywood has taught is anything it's that most films are fucking shit.

He used to write fantastic, rambling comments but he's nowhere to be found these days.

Are you there, Ciaran? Are you?

I'd always thought it was slightly overplayed and exaggerated when people took the piss out of people from California by peppering their speech with 'like', 'like, you know...', 'totally', 'dude' and so on.

Yesterday proved to me that it was, if anything, underplayed because the real thing is so like someone taking the piss that nobody would believe you. Sat behind me were a girl and a guy discussing life as loud as loud could be, oblivious that every word they said could be heard by anybody within a 400 yard radius.

The girl was talking about how her boyfriend moved up to San Francisco to be with her. "Dude, it was, like you know, totally cool but, like, one week later, like, he like dumped me and started dating this Italian girl."

How he lasted a week I'll never know. She went on to tell him all about how she, like, did a bunch of drugs and owed her parents, like, a bunch of money and like got in a car crash and l counted three thousand 'likes' in 10 minutes.

The guy was recently turned gay and he was bemoaning the fact if he and his chum went to the Middle East it could all end terribly. "You know" he told the girl, "if we like, went to like Saudi Arabia and, like, hooked up in the street we could like be totally put to death for, like, being homosexual."

There should be a country where you can be put to death for being, like you know, a total and utter cunt.

Eventually it was too much for me and I had to leave. I'm just shocked that people like that really, truly exist and how do the normal Americans put up with people who speak like that? If you forbade them from saying those stock phrases they'd struggle to get two words out.

The big question is though: should it be legal to pull these peoples tongues out of their heads?

The answer, of course, is yes.