Tuesday 5 August 2008

A FIERCE ALTER-CATION WITH BIG NELLIE GRANITE

I was walking into Clougher, that rural outpost of sex, depravity and debauchery', 'twas a lovely day in the dog daze of Summer. Alas and indeed-alac, the Summer was drawing two a cloths.
The sons rays and the gentle downpours had created a bumper harvest. Nature seemed--tired, the grass at the side of the Hi-way know longer looked up two the son,but hung-listless and limp, the yella korn, so beloved by auld Van Go was harvested leaving only stubble, like what you wood find on some dirty slatterns measled legs. The swallows were lined up on the lectric wires, bags packed, ready to fly off two South Africa and bring joy and delight two Nelson Mandella and thousands of dancing piccaninnys. Even the very crows seemed tired and fatigued as they perched on a scarecrow doing their nails. The year had turned, you could feel it in the air, our salad daze lay behind us and before us lay, cold, rain, slush, sleet, hi-winds and slippery rhoades.
I felt-sad, melon-colly, I am a child of nature and I revel in the son, in the Spring, when the Queen of the May paints the hedgerows gay, I jettison the Winter drawers and positively-skip like a fairy through cuntry lanes festooned with whitethorn blossoms and green, swaying ferns.
I felt a-pang in my hart, a pang of sorrow for the departing year, how many of us wood live two sea another wan? how many clogs wood pop as Winter tightened its grip like the Boston strangler? The muse desended upon me, I stood in the middle of the road, raised my slender, girlish arms in the air and roared.
GOODBYE DEER SUMMER, YES,AH-DEW
BEFORE US CHILLBLAINS,COLD AND FLU
PLEASE COME BACK SOON WITH SUN A-SHINNIN'
TWO DRY OUR SNOTTERS AND STOP US PINNIN'.
I made a menthol note two send that wee poem to Ireland's own and went on my way.
As I crested a hill like a JCB, I saw a figure on a bicycle approach, it was auld Nellie Granite, I recognised her big red drawers with the blew patch on the gusset. I went two skool with big Nellie, but we never really got on, she's kommon and stupid, while I am steeped in arts and kulture and wild smart. She was peddling along, with her too big fat knees going up and down like a steam engine, her big turnip face was bleezing and the sweat was lashing off her like a well raced pig. She leaped off the bike, like the big hallion she is and roared, "Ah its you Rosie, I didn't no you there, I said two myself, who's the auld woman walking with a funny striddle? Are you all-rite "down there" Rosie? are you sure nothing has slipped or prolasped?"
I bridled and said, "Nellie, I wood thank you two keep your thoughts two yourself and knot have them straying two my under-carriage, and if you must no, my under-carriage is A-wan. 100% and firing on all cylinders". "Well it wood have two be now" said Nellie, "now that's you've hooked up with the peeler from the Free State, I was just saying two my Ferdinand, Rosie wool have two sharpen herself up, now that she's got a man".
I shook like a badly hanged man and retorted, "You and your Ferdinand have little two do if you have two retort two talking about Chuck Corona and me".
"Know Rosie" yelled the big lump, "I'm pleased for you, many a nite I thought too myself, there's poor auld Rosie Ryan living ah'll alone in a bog and she kan't get a man for love or money, I never had that trouble, I could always fall back on my Ferdinand".
"If you fell backwards--or forwards on your Ferdinand, they wood be scraping him off the street with a shovel" I roared. "Now, now Rosie" said the big brute, "you used two give my Ferdinand sweets at skool and show him your auld patched and darned nickers".
"That's a damn kalamay" I roared, "If your Ferdinand saw my bloomers, it was because he was peeping through my winda, like his auld father, Peter The Peeper".
"Sure that's ah'll in the past" said Nellie "and now you've got a man of your own and a grate big man he is, I was just saying two my Ferdinand, that Chuck Corona is build like a brick shit house" then she sort of leered and said, "Mind you, some-thymes big men are knot that big when it comes down to it. many a woman has took a stray dog home, only two find that it couldn't wag its tale". I erupted like mount Vesivous and roared, "How dare you and your Ferdinand tal;k about the secret, hidden accouterments of my boyfriend Chuck Corona, if you must no, Chuck has got the qualifications two be a Chippendale or a porn star, the only thing that keeps him back is his natural modesty and a slowness in jettisoning his drawers, dew two a kick in the knee he got from Shane Magown. Get too hell" I roared, "Throw your big lump of a leg on that bicycle,or by the sacred apron of saint Lusinda from Letterkenny, I'll be dug out of you"
Big Nellie peddled off roaring, "living over the brush, that's what youse is doing, giving a bad example too the wains of the parish, its know wonder Cat-Lick Ireland is away two hell, when auld bags like you are shacked up with a crooked peeler that was run out of Dublin".
Full of ire, I searched frantically for stones, which I threw after the departing gulpin 'till she was out of sight. My hart was brusting out of my gansey,I was shaking like a leaf on a tree, in a bid two relieve the pressure, I broke wind like a thunder klap and spit half a cup of thick, green flem into the grass. When I had regained my deposure, I continued on my way, thinking pleasant thoughts about sticking big Nellie's head into a well, or letting her have both barrells as she was coming home from the bingo.
And yet, little did I no that my trouble with the Granite's was far from over. As I stood in Hussien's supermarket, holding a turnip in each hand to guage which was biggest, an auld voice said, "Ah Rosie, day-dreaming about Chuck Corona again"
I pirouetted and there stood Nellie Granite's Ferdinand with a disgusting leer on his ugly mug, I never spoke, I kneed him in the fork of the trousers and when he bent over, I battered the auld bald head of him with the too turnips. When he went down, like a sack of spuds, I kicked the be-jesus out of him with my hobnailed boots, if auld Nellie is feeling frisky two-nite, she wool just have two thoal, she won't have her Ferdinand two fall back on and if I'm any judge of the mail anatmony, it could be a long, long time before the swelling goes down--if ever.
The morale of this story is--don't meddle with Rosie Ryan.
If you wood like two reed my letters two Gerry Anderson go two..
jpmcmenamin@gmail.com
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And that's all--for now. JP McMenamin.

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