Tales Of The Gurrier

Down the chimney on backwards hands, Comes the bandy Santyman. Across the chimney breast he slithers, His cape a smear in soot and feathers, Coal black eyes and teeth like knives, The Bandy Santy has arrived. His lispy tongue is dark and slick, And up your spine he wants to lick. About his waist his [...]

It’s all over folks. The BBC calls time on the boom years, ‘Irish economy goes into recession’. It’s been a grand ten years or so, more or less. We’ve had some good times, ate some flat sambos*, enjoyed many a pot of the green sauce. Bought a shit load of stuff, ran up some eye [...]

Farewell the nights, farewell the days, To blissful evenings, in endless haze, The Gurrier’s spent, his days are numbered, This aging pate, it longs to slumber, He’s had his six, and twenty more, and passed another three or four, In burned out cars, or on the floor. Of friends, whom have long now passed, From [...]

Well it’s that time of year again, the Season of Fearfulness is almost done and its time for the annual Christmas message. This year I hope you will enjoy my specially recorded gobcast. If you don’t want to hear my dulcet tones you’ll find the tale of ‘The Nightmare before Kesey’ below. Click here for [...]

Bronze of skin and tawny limbed, The British beef in sunlight limned, With mighty hocks and heads like blocks, They charge together with brains of rocks. ‘Quick lads, quick its time to scrum, So gird your loins and lick your thumb, And lay your hand ‘pon that fellows bum.’ A grand and ‘stonishing sight to [...]