Thursday, February 18, 2010

Limericks in Prep For Saint Paddy's


The Holiest of Holidays is St. Paddy's and that's the end of it. Every nation of this warreld is but a county and province of God's Blessed Isle. So, let's have some Limericks, music and a bit of fun.
Limerick, what de feck is it, then? Well, glad you asked. A Limerick is a poem of a particular stoile and tempo that was invented by the native Irish in the fair city of Limerick on Shannon, where dey kayp that accursed John Bull Castle, so they do. It is also, indayd, where our Brian Boru had his forteefication nearby-like so's he could attack the Voikings when they was there doing their business. The poems go something like this:
There once was a man from Tralee
Who stood on a ladder to pee.
I dont want to alarm
You to infarm
Your man was hung past his knee!

Dayz poems are nearly always rotten darty, and for some raysun or other, always start with "there once was a man from..." but so what of it!! Now you try, and while your t'inkin, here's a shart filum!

Big Smoile indayd! Chayky little deevil!
Here's another filum.

And here's a song for yers!

Drop some Limericks in the comment section!

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Sean Hannity is a feckin Khont

Some payple need a refresher course in their history, their family history in particular.
Sean Nannity is one of those payple. The other night as I'm watching telly he has the blessed narve to say what will happen in Massachussettes will be a bloody "political earthquake". And I thought to meself "khont! has ye no respect for the suffering of others that yez has to invoked the name eathquake in with your little jabs and such?"
Then I thought, well he and dat O'Reilly are cut from the same stack of shite, arent they. Load of ballacks.
O'Reilly perhaps worser still than his pip-squeek counterpark, and him with the shiny black hair and lipstick. I tell ya, a colleen takes less time on her looks. The only saving grace for that dingbat Beck is dat his payple didn't come from Black '47.
These two gits, Nannity and O'Douchebag need a trip to Ballyferriter Museum West of Dingle, to learn their famine history. They wouldn't be so blythe to learn how a hunderd suffering souls a day gathered round a caldron filled with wather, three potatoes and a bit of onion diced in to complete a broth that was to last them for a trip across the sea. Wasn't too long ago the Irish were considered undesireables here in dis country ya khont!

Friday, October 30, 2009

Father Riley says PLAYSE Get FOOKED....RESPONSIBLY!

Well, I nearly had one in me pants this marnin'. It seems every year we warn ourselves as to deliterious affects of de alkahal, and go right de fook out an' mess ourselves up with it again and again.

For here was a yet another prime example of why lower-order primates should not drink or breed.

It seems dat (ahem) allegedly these two (obviously) drunken Iowa yobs decided they better could committ a burglary on a dwelling if they were to take marker and scrawl it all over their faces, to disguise their (in my opinion) drunken, pasty mugs. Save, they forget to check to see whether or not the marker would wash off, which it didn't SINCE IT WAS FOOKAN PERMANENT.

So when the cops stopped their "getaway car" (ha!) and we can only imagine what state of dissarray this was in; well it was an easy, slam-dunk arrest.

Some monkeys were ment to sit in the zoo of life without a proper mate, FOREVER. Some genetic roads, are in fact, meant to be cul-de-sacs. Some ...well ya take my meaning by now sartanlee.

That being said, we realize we enter the full-on season of the drunken yob; the holidays. The commercials are at us, first in the name of the sweet baby, infant Jesus, exhuding us to imbibe copius amounts of, take-your-pick. They always qualify their mantra's with a little spritz of social consciousness don't they? As if this atones from their damnable sins.

The caveat being: PLEASE DRINK RESPONSIBLY.

Please drink Jack Daniels responsibly. What da feck is that? Drink Jack Daniels, responsibly? That's like sayin' please drink 151 Ron Rico....RESPONSIBLY. Please drink dat bloody Yeagermeister, RESPONSIBLY. Please take that foirst hit of crack RESPONSIBLY!

Please get piss, rott-gut hammered, RESPONSIBLY.

Please wake up next to the strip club at 4:30 in the marnin', with the sprinkler system spritzing reuse, run-off water up your nose, RESPONSIBLY.

Please lose your car, stumble home neath the blazing sun at 9:30 in th marnin' with your son havin to throw down the basketball and run inside the house, because you resemble more a zombie, than the boy's father, RESPONSIBLY.

Please wake up next to a Karaoke queen in a flee-bag hotel with the sound of a cop's asp, rapping gently against the door, RESPONSIBLY.

Please wake up in a jail cell next to a member of the Mexican mafia crying to his miserable suicidal self in Spanish, RESPONSIBY.

Please leave your wife, RESPONSIBLY.

Please summon the police and fire rescue, RESPONSIBLY.

Please ruin your life, RESPONSIBLY.

Please fall out de van as you stumble on the seatbelt, smashing your teeth on the curb, RESPONSIBLY.

Please run over a dog, RESPONSIBLY.

Please drain out your bank account, RESPONSIBLY.

Please get in a fight with someone much larger than yourself, RESPONSIBLY.

And so it begins, this bloody season of vomit and purchases; to sarve the Lord Jaysus Christ our savior!


Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Father Riley Unemployed Priest SAYS "FOOK da" Ares Rocket


Well here I sit in me pajaymus, waitin' fo whord on dat damnable rocket dat seemingly never was.

If it were a student of moin, why, I'd poke him with a stick to be sure.

Scratch me arse, dat didn't come out right! Didn't mayne it de way you're takin it, you! So whipe dat silly grin off-a yer fayuss.

So, two days of this go by and I says to meself; wail, dat's it. Not t'day. An' poof, up he goes.

Not minutes laytar, and it's done, falls apart in the sky. Okay, $450 milion is what he cahst us, for a two-minute show?

Shames me to say it, but DAT was the most expensive orale bene-faccio ever given in history of blatant proseeetuschun.
Dat's enough from me, for now.

There will be more to follow in de days to come, sartainly.I only wanted to set down this little blog here to let de warelled know I have gone freelance so to speak.I can be available t'roughout these United States to do anywhere from a half-hour, to de hour sermon of dare we call it "comedy?"If yer interested, kindly talk to my business manager David Kearns at DavidAnthonyKearns@Gmail.comFather Kevin Riley,FatherRiley@cfl.rr.com

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Hello Father Riley, The Unemployed Priest, Thoughts for de day

Grand so. Getting used to it, then.
First t'ought was, where is dat woman with my bloody tea?
Jaysus-Teddy-Bobby-and Jack! Of course, I've been given the sack! Here I am in dis disgusting hotel! No tea from the woman, certainly not. No, all I have to look fahrward to, is dat ridiculous conteenental breakfast: a lot of cereal boxes, milk cartons, stale, golf-ball sized muffins. You know the drill.
Easy big fella, don't be such a wankar at dis point.
We will have to avoid de Hai A'lai fonton at all costs today, though the pull towards will be quite strong-like.
So we look at tele and make up a bootleg prayer.

Bless Jesus, Teddy, Bobby and Jack, dear lord.

Bless Headline News and Robin Meade. She likes the "hugeness" of the Ares Rocket, and it pleases the soul to hear her say so.

Bless Northrop and Grumman, for they're in it together.

Bless Lockheed and Martin, for they are as well.

Bless Tampa Bay (s)Buccanneers, for they reside in hell just now.

Bless the cross-dressing coach for the Vikings, for he has a sense of humor.

Bless Binder and Binder, for nobody intimidates their clients, nobody.

Bless Appliance Direct, for the man just can't speak English, try though might.
Bless the "Public Option" for my stomach can't take truckloads of Advil.
Bless the pilots who slept, for theirs was an act of true faith.
Dat's enough for now.
There will be more to follow in de days to come, sartainly.
I only wanted to set down this little blog here to let de warelled know I have gone freelance so to speak.
I can be available t'roughout these United States to do anywhere from a half-hour, to de hour sermon of dare we call it "comedy?"
If yer interested, kindly talk to my business manager David Kearns at
DavidAnthonyKearns@Gmail.com
Father Kevin Riley,
FatherRiley@cfl.rr.com


Monday, October 26, 2009

Hello I am Father Riley the Unemployed Priest

Father Kevin Riley says;


I am writing dis now, havin been given de boot. Like many of yourselves, my sarvices have been requested to cease indefinitely.

My current business manager, the illustrious author David A. Kearns, has given me leave to post here on his blogging account. He has done this, so that I can get the word out.


T'is a hard t'ing to send a man to de road, but there it is, the times we live in.

T'oughts for de day are varied. I wanted to speak specifically to de condishuns which have unceremoniously resulted in my dismissal from de parrish which shall not be named, hereunder.

His highness, Bishop Douch O'Baggins (not de man's real name) came round de odder day, all pointy of hat, and requested a full accounting-like of de Bingo earnings, and not having a precisely sustained accounting der-of, he started in on me, strait away-like.

He furthar opined dat my sermons were like sandpaper in dat dey grated and chaffed.

I informed His Majesterial District Manager-ship that if we wus to cave in to the wishus of the congregations, laying down only what dey'd like to hear, and not what dey should rightly hear, why, there would be hell'an commotion 24 hours 7 days the week.

He said there be more concern voiced from on high-like, dat I have been letting de cat out de bag on sartain secrets-like of de chorch.

Well says I, I have spoke to the unsartantee from some of the parishoners to dis business of Himself actually walkin' on wather as if it were a matter no more complicated than a Sunday stroll-like.

I said the congregates themselves should be rightly responsible for deciding whether to believe such t'ings. I said for me own account, I found it hard to accomidate de notion dat Peter and his lot would continue fishin' at dis point of encountering a man, on foot, on de water ( in his pajama's no less): not dat it never happ'nd.

There will be more to follow in de days to come, sartainly.

I only wanted to set down this little blog here to let de warelled know I have gone freelance so to speak.

I can be available t'roughout these United States to do anywhere from a half-hour, to de hour sermon of dare we call it "comedy?"

If yer interested, kindly talk to my business manager David Kearns at DavidAnthonyKearns@Gmail.com

Father Kevin Riley,

FatherRiley@cfl.rr.com