The Heelers Diaries

the fantasy world of ireland's greatest living poet

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Location: Kilcullen (Phone 087 7790766), County Kildare, Ireland

Saturday, June 12, 2010

the monica leech migrate-in

Osama Bin Laden, Muammur Qadaffi and the Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini went into a pub.
They saw property developer Jim Mansfield drinking at the bar.
Jim Mansfield had picked the shadiest nook in the pub to posit himself.
Jim Mansfield at this moment was a shady property developer.

Since he was in a shady nook.
Arf arf.
A very very super extra shady property developer indeed.

Jim Mansfield was in fact at this moment the shadiest property developer in the Republic of Ireland.
And he was that most dangerous type of shady property developer.
A shady property developer with a Muslim fetish.
Osama, Muammur and Ruhollah approached him.
"Eh Jim," said the Muslome threesome in unison. "How's she cuttin? Any chance you'd get us a few ould English lessons? Nudge, nudge, wink, wink. And how's about throwin in some ould Irish passports while you're at it, dere's a good lad. And maybe a few ould hang sangidges for deh day dat's in it."
Mansfield looked at them suspiciously.
The world is full of Muslims wanting to learn English the way the Irish speak it.
But Jim is careful who he smuggles into Ireland.
He doesn't just offer transit to every Ahmed, Dick, and Mohammed who wanders up to him in a pub.
"You don't look like f---ing Saudi Arabians to me," proclaimed Mansfield suspiciously. "I'm only smuggling Saudi Arabians. I mean educating. I'm only educating Saudi Arabians. You could be ephin Iranians or shaggin Libyans for all I know."
"What we do on our own time," is our own business said Colonel Qadaffi coolly misunderstanding the intransitive nature of Jim's expressions ephin Iranians and shaggin Libyans.
"I've a good mind to self detonate," muttered the Ayatollah.
"Or better yet, let's get some uneducated third world Arab peasant to self detonate for us," put in Osama with his famous cheeky chappy grin.
Mansfield favoured them with a cool assessive stare.
"You'll do," he said after a moment. "Here. Fill out these forms and you can start at my spanking new English Language College in Dublin in the morning. And no Muammur, Spanking in this instance is an intransitive adjective qualifying the word new. It doesn't mean you'll learn new ways to beat the maids to death. It means we built the thing yesterday. And if you want passports you'll have to buy them off Albert Reynolds and the corrupt kleptocratic Fianna Fail party yourselves. And as for hang sangidges... To hell with poverty, we'll kill a hin."

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