Just thought of another one I was told when I was back down in Cork two weeks ago visiting.
One of my mates, Paul, was telling me this one that another one of the lads did in Limerick a few weeks back. Anyway this guy, O'Dea, was out in Costellos bar for the night and was heading back out to his family house in Castletroy for the night. So himself and a few others are walking down the street towards one of the taxi ranks (the one outside the Globe for you Limerick heads) and there was 5 cabs lined up waiting for people. (this was told to the lads out in a phone call later in the night, although they can confirm that he did the actions described below, just not the audio) So O'Dea hops into the last cab in the row on his own and says to the driver, 'Look, I'm out of money and need to get out to Castletroy, so if you'll take me I'll give you a blowjob' to which the cab driver asked him to get out of the car. Next O'Dea went into the fourth cab in the queue and repeated his offer of a blowjob for a lift to Castletroy, getting told to **** off this time. This continued for the next two cabs until he got to the head of the line, the cab he should have gone to in the first place anyway, where O'Dea jumps into the cab and asks to be taken to Castletroy please, and off they go leaving the other 4 cab drivers to wonder if their workmate had just now given away the true secret of his sexuality![]()
Very good.
Reminds me of the story about the Derry taxi driver who was taking a young women home from a night out when she realised she didn't have enough money. When he turns to her at the end of the journey she has her skirt lifted and her legs spread to which he responds in the classic taxi driver manner: "Awk, have ye nothin' smaller?"
That question was less stupid, though you asked it in a profoundly stupid way.
Help me, Arthur Murphy, you're my only hope!
Originally Posted by Dodge
I was on a drunken night out in Brugges, with two lads who are from Tipp a few years ago. We were on a mini pub crawl ang lost our sense of direction and were lost. We eventually called it a night and were delighted to find a taxi rank. We jumped into the first cab and said to the driver to take us to the Crowne Plaza Hotel. He had little English and protested with us. I showed him my hotel key card with the name and address of the hotel on it, but he kept saying "no" and mumbling other stuff in his native tongue.
Eventually, he sighed and drove us to the hotel. It was about 100 meters away. He charged us too.
The Taxi stories bring me back to some old trials and tribulations (mostly self inflicted) that have befallen me on the Dublin Nitelink buses between some heavy drinking years circa 1993 - 2000.
I had a woeful knack of falling asleep on these buses and recall one occasion where I woke up to find the upstairs lights turned off and the off-duty bus hurtling towards the depot in Phibsborough - not unlike the film "Speed".
I legged it down the stairs of the empty bus and frightened the life out of the unsuspecting bus driver, who obviously hadn't checked that everyone had departed the bus. His immediate, obviously primal "fight or flight" response could be summarised as thus: "ARRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHH"!!!
When he managed to calm down, I was released from the bus where I located a fast food joint and devoured a burger to rue my drowsy carelessness.
Ever notice those bus seats that are "loose" - in that they're not secured down. Myself and my mates used to have a challange to see who could smuggle a bus seat off of the Nitelink without the driver noticing. Just for the hell of it.
On one such occasion, I managed to smuggle one such seat off the bus, as my mates distracted the driver with a cunning diversion of asking him if this was the last stop. In my drunken state, I believed it was perfectly reasonable to carry the seat home. A "Finders/Keepers" rationale.
I was still living with my parents at time. Picture the scene, as I'm passed out recovering from the Niagra of gargle I'd consumed the night before and my mother potters into my room with some ironed clothes - to be presented with a standard issue Dublin Bus seat lying across my bed.
I was given until mid-day to dispose of the seat. I succeeded in doing this by, still heavily intoxicated, strolling around our surrounding estates looking for a skip. You can imagine I got some very odd looks strolling around with this seat in broad daylight on a Sunday afternoon. I eventually found a skip and less than surruptitiously dumped it and walked off.
Quoting years at random since 1975
Our paper did a feature on the village of Drum (yes Dodge Drum!) and was telling my dad about my adventures there. It is the first place outside of Northern Ireland to have one of Rev Paisley's churches.
My dad told me about how he was working on Paisley's church in Drum and cut himself with a stanley knife. The blood was pouring out of him and the Minister of the church came over and said "Aw Brendan what have you done to yourself". My dad replied "I just fulfilling the prophecy. When Paisley opened this church he said "there will be papist blood spilt here"." The minister still laughs about it!
Another of my dads greatest moments was when he went to Australia about 20 yrs ago and customs asked him if he had a criminal record. He replied "Do you still need one to get in here??"
I've done the same with a builders cone. Alway's wanted a Bus Shelter and a Phonebox for my bedroom. my bed would have fit nicely in the bus shelter and the Phone box would have made a pretty cool wardrobe, alas I could never work out a way of getting one home whilst drunk
Aah, students bringing crap home. That takes me back. We had the Wilton bus stop in our sitting room for about six months. The 42A had to reverse through the kitchen.
Ceci n'est pas une signature
A few years later my brother went to Australia and wore a t-shirt with an Oscar Wilde quote "I have nothing to declare except my genius" through customs. So if I ever go to Australia it is my turn to wind them up.
My Dad says the same thing all the time, despite Bass being, in his (believe me expert) opinion, "Pi$$"
I suppose that Bass ad was their generations Whassssssssuppppppp moment
Slightly funny story from earlier on in the season which involves a fairly regular Limerick poster. For the purposes of protecting his identity I will refer to him as tough talking, hard drinking, Hibs loving detective "Rebus".
Now "Rebus" is one of the Dublin based Limerick fans and around last October time we were away to Kildare County. No problem says "Rebus" with Kildare County playing their home games at Station Road I'll just hop on the train and be there in no time.....
About a half an hour before kick-off "Rebus" rings me to let me know he has arrived at the train station and asks for directions to the ground. I thought this was odd as the ground is more or less on the train track but I told "Rebus" take a right out of the station, carry on over the bridge and the entrance to the ground is right there on your left...........
Twenty minutes later I get another phonecall from "Rebus", who in slightly worried tones tells me he left the station, took a right over a bridge and was now in the middle of nowhere. Odd, I thought, but told him to retrace his steps back towards the station and he was bound to see floodlights eventually...........
Mid-way through the first half I get another phonecall from "Rebus" to tell me he has given up for the night.......
Turns out "Rebus" was in Kildare*
*For those not au fait with the Eircom League Kildare County play in Newbridge.
Alright LtiD it's on, let's air the dirty linen in public!![]()
In my defence the previous two times I had been to Kildare had always been in the back of Gael's car, and on this occasion I was hungover!
Now let's get on to the various adventures of whitey pulling LtiD, Special Olympics flag stealing SLK, road raging Gael and homeless lady beating Nempton.....
Would you believe my slapstick transport moments are not reserved for bus travel alone. I can identify with "Rebus" train nightmare.
I was working in Longford and travelled home to Dublin at the weekends by train. I went on the absolute slaughter one particular weekend (Ireland were playing Iceland in the infamous "Keane booed" incident - 1996?).
I hopped on the Sligo train at Heuston, on time and all was well. I should be in Longford in roughly 2 hours I said. I was so knackered I fell asleep but woke up as the train pulled into the station.
I hopped off the train, drawing a sigh of relief. Just as I thought I'd avoided disaster - I was met with the legend "WELCOME TO DROMOD". I was in Leitrim. It was 5 to 9 and the Station shut down at 9.
I just about had time to order a Cab back to Longford before the entire station was plunged into darkness. The eery thing was that there was NOONE around. Deserted.
For what felt like 24 hours later, I finally could see two headlights in the distance. It was the cab.
My humiliation was complete when I outlined my tale of woe to the taxi driver - who literally cracked up laughing on the spot.![]()
Quoting years at random since 1975
That question was less stupid, though you asked it in a profoundly stupid way.
Help me, Arthur Murphy, you're my only hope!
Originally Posted by Dodge
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