Blagger
Rookie
- Banned
- #1
The following narrative was forwarded to me via email from an acquaintance of mine that writes for a prominent London-based broadsheet. My gut tells me that he may have elaborated on some of the more racially inflammatory remarks that he overheard President Obama being subjected to, but I imagine it was exaggerated to illustrate the inherent, unchecked racism that's so prevalent in today's Republic of Ireland. I sincerely hope that the following doesn't 'offend' anyone.
Various representitives, dignitaries and their respective retinues had convened in the reception chambers of Dublin Castle to greet the visiting American President. All are clad in appropriate attire, merrily chatting amongst themselves and having their picture taken. Suddenly, a noise errupts from the grand entrance. It's the unmistakable sound of the bogs - loud, self-pitying and violent. The stench of poteen wafts across the room. Several representitives of the Oireachtas (Irish Parliament) drunkenly stumble towards the increasingly anxious President.
Red-Faced Paddy #1: 'Are you dis coloured President dat dropped a cap in Bin Laden's beard dat we've aal been hearin' about? Go on, tell us what it felt loike to shoot da cont in da head. I bet his head borst loike a fockin' balloon, so it did'.
POTUS: 'I am the President of the United States, if that's what you're asking. But no, I didn't pull the trigger on Bin Laden. I simply authorised his death.
Red-Faced Paddy #2: 'Honestly, Barack, me an' Gerald were sayin' just da udder day dat we never thought we'd see a tree swinger in da Whoite House. Come on, Howdya pull it aff?'
POTUS: 'I was elected into office. The colour of my skin is of no consequence to the American people'.
Red-Faced Paddy #1: 'Bollocks is it, ya black cont! Ya da biggest novelty o' da twenty forst century, so you are!'
Red-Faced Paddy #3: 'Come along now, lads, don't be acting the maggot. I'm sure da man jus' wants to do da best he can. Eh, Barack?'
POTUS: 'That goes without saying, gentlemen. By the way, did you know that, despite the colour of my skin, I'm actually part Irish'.
<<R-FP#1 takes a swig of poteen and stabs his finger in the direction of the President>>
R-FP#1: 'How da fock dya work dat one out, boy?'
POTUS: 'Well, apart from my mother's ancestors being Irish, my grandfather was tortured by the British. I'm sure you'll all agree that the latter validates any claim to being Irish'.
R-FP#1: 'Oh, I see. Well, when ya put it loike dat, ya must be Irish. I fockin' hate de English. Those conts bornt me great-granddaddy's house down, so they did. Fockin' son's of Tans, the whole bastard lot of 'em!'
R-FP#2: 'Calm down, Liam, for fock's sake. Anyway, enough o' dat shite. Tell us, Barack. How much pussy 'ave ya helped yaself to whilst in office. And dorn't be shy, coz we all know you coloured lads are packin' a lot o' meat down there, so you are'.
POTUS: 'Gentlemen, allow me to assure you, that besides my ego, I have remained faithful to Michelle throughout our marriage. To suggest otherwise would be most offensive'.
R-FP#2: 'Well in that case, please accept our commiserations'.
<<Upon delivering this insulting punchline, all three of the red-faced micks break out in self-congratulatory laughter. Mr. O'Bama looks distinctly unamused>>
-FP#2: 'Ah, come on now, Barack, we was ornly havin' a laugh. Seriously, though, I remember when ol' Billy-boy Clinton got caught gettin' his dick wet in da Orval Affice. "I did not hayev sexual relashuns wid dat woman". Honestly, da randy ol' goat shoulda got an Oscar for dat performance. Proiceless it waz. Ya can at least admit to smokin' a bit weed though, eh?'
POTUS: 'Gentlemen, it would be against the law to smoke a blunt in the Oval Office. My only addiction is my loyalty to the people that elected me, providing they vote my in for a second term, might I add. Now, gentlemen, you'll have to excuse me, for I have a sanctimonious image to uphold. Good day'.
R-FP#2: 'Jesus, wouldya look at him, lads. A roight pompous darkie if I ever did see one'.
R-FP#3: 'Aye, fock 'im. I've seen more character in a dead chimpanzee than that arrogant ape. Anyway, come on, lads, let's get anodda drink down us, eh'.
Various representitives, dignitaries and their respective retinues had convened in the reception chambers of Dublin Castle to greet the visiting American President. All are clad in appropriate attire, merrily chatting amongst themselves and having their picture taken. Suddenly, a noise errupts from the grand entrance. It's the unmistakable sound of the bogs - loud, self-pitying and violent. The stench of poteen wafts across the room. Several representitives of the Oireachtas (Irish Parliament) drunkenly stumble towards the increasingly anxious President.
Red-Faced Paddy #1: 'Are you dis coloured President dat dropped a cap in Bin Laden's beard dat we've aal been hearin' about? Go on, tell us what it felt loike to shoot da cont in da head. I bet his head borst loike a fockin' balloon, so it did'.
POTUS: 'I am the President of the United States, if that's what you're asking. But no, I didn't pull the trigger on Bin Laden. I simply authorised his death.
Red-Faced Paddy #2: 'Honestly, Barack, me an' Gerald were sayin' just da udder day dat we never thought we'd see a tree swinger in da Whoite House. Come on, Howdya pull it aff?'
POTUS: 'I was elected into office. The colour of my skin is of no consequence to the American people'.
Red-Faced Paddy #1: 'Bollocks is it, ya black cont! Ya da biggest novelty o' da twenty forst century, so you are!'
Red-Faced Paddy #3: 'Come along now, lads, don't be acting the maggot. I'm sure da man jus' wants to do da best he can. Eh, Barack?'
POTUS: 'That goes without saying, gentlemen. By the way, did you know that, despite the colour of my skin, I'm actually part Irish'.
<<R-FP#1 takes a swig of poteen and stabs his finger in the direction of the President>>
R-FP#1: 'How da fock dya work dat one out, boy?'
POTUS: 'Well, apart from my mother's ancestors being Irish, my grandfather was tortured by the British. I'm sure you'll all agree that the latter validates any claim to being Irish'.
R-FP#1: 'Oh, I see. Well, when ya put it loike dat, ya must be Irish. I fockin' hate de English. Those conts bornt me great-granddaddy's house down, so they did. Fockin' son's of Tans, the whole bastard lot of 'em!'
R-FP#2: 'Calm down, Liam, for fock's sake. Anyway, enough o' dat shite. Tell us, Barack. How much pussy 'ave ya helped yaself to whilst in office. And dorn't be shy, coz we all know you coloured lads are packin' a lot o' meat down there, so you are'.
POTUS: 'Gentlemen, allow me to assure you, that besides my ego, I have remained faithful to Michelle throughout our marriage. To suggest otherwise would be most offensive'.
R-FP#2: 'Well in that case, please accept our commiserations'.
<<Upon delivering this insulting punchline, all three of the red-faced micks break out in self-congratulatory laughter. Mr. O'Bama looks distinctly unamused>>
-FP#2: 'Ah, come on now, Barack, we was ornly havin' a laugh. Seriously, though, I remember when ol' Billy-boy Clinton got caught gettin' his dick wet in da Orval Affice. "I did not hayev sexual relashuns wid dat woman". Honestly, da randy ol' goat shoulda got an Oscar for dat performance. Proiceless it waz. Ya can at least admit to smokin' a bit weed though, eh?'
POTUS: 'Gentlemen, it would be against the law to smoke a blunt in the Oval Office. My only addiction is my loyalty to the people that elected me, providing they vote my in for a second term, might I add. Now, gentlemen, you'll have to excuse me, for I have a sanctimonious image to uphold. Good day'.
R-FP#2: 'Jesus, wouldya look at him, lads. A roight pompous darkie if I ever did see one'.
R-FP#3: 'Aye, fock 'im. I've seen more character in a dead chimpanzee than that arrogant ape. Anyway, come on, lads, let's get anodda drink down us, eh'.
