Tuesday, April 19, 2011


(pictured above: Doctor Who and K9 if they were Catholics)

Have you seen that shite on the telly called Doctor Who? It’s about this weird Protestant who lives inside a magic box that can go into the past or the future or land on the moon and all that type of thing. Lots of people are mad about the show but I think it’s a disaster. I wish they’d show Tarzan instead. I loved the old Tarzan films when I was a boy. Tarzan was great. He lived in the jungle and spent all his time battering the shite out of creatures. He had a big knife too and he was forever ramming it into beasts. He had no time for beasts at all. He was pally with one monkey who he thought was OK and he hopped up on elephants to get around like they were jungle buses, but besides that, if you were an animal, you were looking for a beating. That was quality entertainment. That you could understand. I can’t understand this time Protestant stuff at all though. There are a few creatures in it alright but half of them don’t even exist and some of them look like kitchen appliances. The nephew tells me that they are ‘monsters’ but I told him that there are no monsters. I said that to him. I said ‘there are no monsters’. Roared it at him to be honest. He started crying and being a little geebag so his mother came running in and called me a monster. I found that a bit ironic.

I’ll tell you another thing about this time Protestant fella, he’s a vagrant. He never settles down. He goes from place to place causing trouble like some sort of space knacker. He’s like a Protestant knacker from outer space. What could be worse than that? A Protestant knacker? It’s the stuff of nightmares. Jaysus, I’ll tell you, Tarzan would’ve wasted no time sticking his dagger into the likes of that.

This time Protestant thing is blasphemous too. I’ll tell you why. I’ll give you an example: let’s say Tarzan gave the time proddy a bit of an old stab with the dagger like, well, instead of dying, the time prod would ‘regenerate’ and rise from the dead. Something he has done ten times to date according to my geebag of a nephew. Now Jesus Christ only managed it once but this fella on the telly has done it ten times. Is this an attempt to make a new type of Protestant Jesus? A proddy Jesus with extra powers? Is that what the game is? As if that wasn’t bad enough, the geebag nephew says this weird prod character was also responsible for the Big Bang. The Big Bang! The very creation of existence. So, this time prod, he’s not happy just being Jesus, he has to be God as well? Well he can fuck off. He can fuck right off out of it. We have Jesus and Tarzan in Ireland and we don’t need any of this British time prod rubbish!

I hear the blasphemous gobshite is back on the telly again this Saturday. Saturday at around six o’clock. Just when I’ll be sitting in front of the box with my dinner on my lap. Well, I’m not having it. I’m unplugging the telly and placing it face down on the floor. I don’t need to be looking at that nonsense with its bloody monsters. There are no monsters. There’s only creatures you can batter and kill. There’s no monsters. No! There’s no need to be worrying about them. The thoughts of a Protestant knacker from outer space might put the wind up me but not bleedin’ monsters. I’m not scared of monsters because there are no monsters. Got that? There are no monsters. There’s not and I’m not scared. I’m not. I swear I’m not. Why would I be scared? There are no monsters. THERE ARE NO bleedin’ MONSTERS!!!

R.I.P. S.J.S.

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