My rude Cornish friend once said to me, that I'd get up on a frog, if it only stopped hopping. Now, of course this is not true but I put that down to his British conditioning. As I said before, mature women are my strict diet and as I get older, the more mature they are, with a decent bit of flesh on them the better, which is more akin to my acquired taste. Now in a tolerant, patient, civilized society, this is fortunately, not true for everyone. It would be damn boring, if everyone was on this diet. Now at the same time, there are also boundaries, as to what is permissible, and what is beyond the pale, which can only be decided by the conscience of a free, democratic, sovereign state. Now as we all know, in the blue shirt free state, up to recently, sex with children was unofficially permitted but then that is not a free sovereign state, no more than the Orange one in the north, so all sorts of perversions have crept into both, with a little mentoring, from the British, to serve their interests. Now the latest phenomena, that has reared it's Orange goat's head, is bestiality, which is a traditional part of Orange culture and caused considerable controversy last night, at Dublin City's council meeting, where a decision was postponed, with regard to allowing the Orange goat lovers, to march down O'Connell Street to Leinster House, the seat of blue shirt Government in Ireland. The controversy is caused by the considerable risk, of some obscene, bestial, extrovert behavior happening outside Leinster House. Some were shouting at the meeting, "Kill them with Kindness," while others, hadn't a kind word to say about the matter at all.
You see a certain born and bred Orange gentlemen, by the name of Willie, in fact most of them are called Willie, along with their goats, have a particular affinity with fondness for Dublin. They desperately want to parade down there, to declare in full public view, their Orange Order culture, in a parade they have called, 'Love Ulster,' which other free Irish thinkers, have called, 'Free Willie in Dublin'. Now the story on how Willie and his goat, developed this affinity with Dublin is an odd one, a very odd one indeed. When I tell this story to my friends, many of them do not believe me and for those of you who wish to research this story, you will need to travel to South Armagh and do your own research there, by calling around to the homes of the locals and asking the pertinent questions and you will find that what i am saying is absolutely true. You can also call in and check it with the Sinner Fein centres in Camlough and Newry. As the old saying goes, sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction.
You see a long time ago, when a certain Willie was a young boy, he lived in South Armagh, where goats milk was the stable diet, among many families. That is why, you will find people from South Armagh, are all, mostly, strong, hardy people, with big strong bones. Now this was a time before the British Army invaded and before the latest troubles. Now course the Brits, when they were doing their secret surveillance at night, were intrigued by all of this, they noticed many of the rebels were addicted to goats milk and before they would head off for a night's work crossing the fields, they would lie down underneath the goats teats and suck them dry. This activity made the goats very horny and they would try to do a 69, by nibbling at the crotch of the milker, and apparently they were successful, in opening a few Orange flies, where the goats continued on relentlessly with some goat fellatio and aroused the God fearing Orangemen to great heights of passion. Well one thing led to another and that is how riding the goat entered Orange Order culture. Now of course for some, this activity became habitual and deep meaningful relationships developed, to the point where they took their goats to bed with them. Fortunately for the Catholics, the good altar boys would not partake in such activity because they were put off sex by the Priests already.
Now I know some of you are still skeptical and regard me as biased or even sectarian but this is absolutely not the case. You see the reason I am familiar with all of these details is, that when I used to be taken in for interrogation in Gough Barracks, one of their tactics they used to try and break me, was they would throw numerous photographs in front of me, with certain Republicans engaging in bestiality. However when I examined the photos carefully, I could see they were photoshopped with heads of Republicans superimposed on the bodies of certain well-known loyalist politicians. Well of course, the Brits made hay, with those sort of tactics but not in my case. They also threw photographs of altar boys being raped by priests in front of me and I am convinced, that a lot of the politicians in Ireland are working for the British for these reasons. This is particularly true of the legal profession in Ireland too, particularly ones who became judges in Diplock Courts where justice is next to impossible in Ireland. This tradition is very strong, among the elite, in both the Roman and British Empire is very strong, as any historical researcher can confirm.
Anyway, to get back to the Willies in South Armagh, one of them was constantly 'mithered' as a young boy, which also made his father 'mithered,' to the point of that he spoke to his neighbours about the problem, The neighbours being the kind people they are, in that part of Ireland advised Willies father, to give him goats milk, after which he improved a bit. However, Willie couldn't stop drinking the goat's milk, it was like Guinness to him. Willie became a goataholic and after his initiation into the secret Orange Order, which includes a ceremony, that every Orangeman must 'ride' a goat, to protect the Order's secrecy, as a form of blackmail, Willie became addicted to goats in a most total fashion. Willie developed a very meaningful relationship with a particular goat his father gave him, and Willie was 'mithered' no longer. This was grand until the time came for Willie to get married, as every God-fearing man of the orange culture must do to procreate in South Armagh. Well, Willie's wife was a contrary sort of a woman, so himself and Iris, came to an arrangement, where they slept in separate beds, and she was presented with a male goat to keep her happy in bed. This is also a considerable part of God fearing Orange Order culture, which is often not particularly, people friendly and makes it difficult to absorb into Irish culture. Having said that, as a recovering alcoholic myself, who has ridden most prostitutes from here to Amsterdam, to have a bit of craic, while sober, I wouldn't be the best judge of that.
I learned in sobriety, that we are as sick as our secrets, and God knows Ireland is full of secrets, principally because it was invaded through the back door, by two Empires, where secret intelligence and secret societies, are at a premium, and in fact largely rule our Island for others, particularly using the very religious. So to get back to South Armagh long ago, it appears that a local Catholic farmer, having more than a few pints in him came out of a pub and still wasn't satisfied. He had an awful lip on him, for a drop of goats milk and it was the middle of the night. He was trying to figure out, where he would get hold of a decent goat, when it came to him, that there was one up in the local Orange Hall, which was kept, strictly for their initiation ceremonies, so he decided to stumble up there. He got in the back door and there was the goat all alone tucked up in bed, with Orange lipstick on it, which is also an important part of Orange Order culture. Anyway, the goat didn't recognize Murphy as one of his own and asked him in a goat sort of way, where was he from. Well, Murphy being a cute hoor, told him he was from an Orange Lodge in Dublin and got into bed with the goat and sucked its tits. Well the goat was aroused as always but still wasn't convinced, so he nibbled around at Murphy's crotch to sniff him out, and found that he was exceptionally well hung, far better than what he was used to at the Orange Lodge but Murphy would have none of it and stumbled out the back door on his way home. After that, the goat always had a yen for Dublin.
In later years this goat became Willies particular partner and one night while Iris was keep quiet by her own particular male goat, Willie and his goat were engaged in some intimate pillow talk, when the goat brought up the subject of Dublin and Willie hit the roof in a rage and started to beat the goat, which got the attention of Iris. The goat eventually calmed Wille down, with plenty of Dublin neighs, Ulster says neigh, etc, but the cat was out of the bag and Iris had heard about the well endowed jackeens from Dublin, whereupon she decided to get a Dublin toy boy. Well, the culture with goats, spread like wildfire into Tyrone, up to Cookstown and Enniskillen, indeed all over the loyalist north and it didn't confine itself to goats either, every farmyard animal was abused. Iris got several toy boys in Dublin and told her girlfriends about it, who did the same, which caused considerable resentment towards Dublin, in the Orange Order culture, until it was eventually decided, among all of the Willies, that they would march on Dublin, in a parade to be known as, 'Love Ulster.' The last time they tried it there was a riot in Dublin and it had to be canceled, so now they are trying again, which brings us to the issue that confronts Dublin City Council. Personally I believe there should be no problem, if they rename the 'march', 'Free Willy in Dublin' but as I said earlier, who am I to judge? Live and let Live, at least leave the kids alone, I mean the human ones of course but then Animal Cruelty might see it differently.
This article is not about any particular individual and while mostly true, any similarity with any particular person is not intentional.No inference can be drawn to any particular person or family.The picture at the top, is of the organizer of the march but the article is totally a separate matter and a general a caricature of the many commoners with the name Willie, while the Murphys are probably the most common name in Ireland, After that, I hope I have upset everyone in Ireland with secrets, particularly of the religious variety.
Up the Irish Pagans!
brionOcleirigh
