waiting for a hurricane
Standing on the doorstep of the post office in Kilcullen.
I am there to collect what is fondly referred to in the Republic of Ireland as Jobseekers Allowance.
The building is shuttered.
For a moment my senses reel.
What on earth is going on?
Realisation dawns.
I look around.
Those exaggerated weather reports on RTE last night have led to the whole town being shuttered.
Probably the whole country too.
I had walked up the street without noticing.
Hunger will do that to a man.
Briefly I wring my hands.
"The ****'s don't want to work," I cry aloud. "The ****ing trade unionised Paddy Whacks are having another day off. Hurricane ****ing Ophelia my ****ing ****. It's any excuse. Oh there's a purely fictional hurricane coming. Down tools. Shut up shop. We the wooooorkers refuse to work in case the ****ing wind might blow at us. The unemployed can go ****ing starve. You useless ****ing *******'s."
Not a soul stirs on the street except for the broadcaster Brian Byrne who is mooching around with a camera looking for hurricane out takes.
"The Met Office should issue a warning about him," I mutter darkly.
The ghost of Chris De Burgh appears beside me.
He starts to sing a parody of one of his catchier hits.
He sings:
"Standing on the street in Kilcullen town.
Wondering where the hell everybody has gone
There's a hurricane coming
And everyone's trying to get awa-a-a-a-a-y
Time of the month
Time of the year
Weather report from RTE is clear
Find a safe place to hide
There's no place here
Then the lights go down
On that South Kildare town
And the drug dealing skangers
Who drive around in Audi bangers
Are all high up and dry
Yeah yeah yeah
Suddenly there's a movement to the pharmacy
But nobody's getting any Lemsip today
The staff have all gone away
And they've closed down the border li-i-i-ne
Because there's nowhere you can hide
Waiting for a hurricane
Oh there's nowhere you can hide
Waiting for a hurricane
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Nerdle nerdle ner ner ner ner"
I quite like this song
A few Muslims would have crowned it.
I am there to collect what is fondly referred to in the Republic of Ireland as Jobseekers Allowance.
The building is shuttered.
For a moment my senses reel.
What on earth is going on?
Realisation dawns.
I look around.
Those exaggerated weather reports on RTE last night have led to the whole town being shuttered.
Probably the whole country too.
I had walked up the street without noticing.
Hunger will do that to a man.
Briefly I wring my hands.
"The ****'s don't want to work," I cry aloud. "The ****ing trade unionised Paddy Whacks are having another day off. Hurricane ****ing Ophelia my ****ing ****. It's any excuse. Oh there's a purely fictional hurricane coming. Down tools. Shut up shop. We the wooooorkers refuse to work in case the ****ing wind might blow at us. The unemployed can go ****ing starve. You useless ****ing *******'s."
Not a soul stirs on the street except for the broadcaster Brian Byrne who is mooching around with a camera looking for hurricane out takes.
"The Met Office should issue a warning about him," I mutter darkly.
The ghost of Chris De Burgh appears beside me.
He starts to sing a parody of one of his catchier hits.
He sings:
"Standing on the street in Kilcullen town.
Wondering where the hell everybody has gone
There's a hurricane coming
And everyone's trying to get awa-a-a-a-a-y
Time of the month
Time of the year
Weather report from RTE is clear
Find a safe place to hide
There's no place here
Then the lights go down
On that South Kildare town
And the drug dealing skangers
Who drive around in Audi bangers
Are all high up and dry
Yeah yeah yeah
Suddenly there's a movement to the pharmacy
But nobody's getting any Lemsip today
The staff have all gone away
And they've closed down the border li-i-i-ne
Because there's nowhere you can hide
Waiting for a hurricane
Oh there's nowhere you can hide
Waiting for a hurricane
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Nerdle nerdle ner ner ner ner"
I quite like this song
A few Muslims would have crowned it.