More Tedfest

 Posted by on March 1, 2009  Add comments
Mar 012009

We were barely off the ferry when my travelling companion pointed out an apparition of the mother of Jesus, and the other mother of Jesus. The mothers of Jesus.

This must be Craggy Island, he remarked.

You think? I said. You fuckin live here.

Oh, right, he muttered.

So, I said. How are we getting out to your place?

We’re meeting my sisters in the American Bar, he replied, a little too smugly for my liking, so I quietened him by poking him in the eye with a piece of dry stick.

Take that, you lying fuck, I snarled, but as it turned out, he was telling the truth, and in the great old island tradition, I had to buy him fourteen pints in atonement for doubting his word.

The Rockhopper’s sisters were every bit as as ravishing as I remembered them, leaning against the bar, swilling back pints of Guinness.

Well? they shouted in unison. Are ya goin to the Freak-Pointin’ competition?

Maybe we’ll have a pint first, I suggested.

Christ that’s a fuckin great idea, shrieked the two girls. And eight more for us as well, bartender!!

After another forty or fifty pints, the girls got a bit skittish and we started to draw strange looks from the clergy around us.

Better get out of here before they turn ugly, said Rockhopper.

Agreed, I said. Your sisters are getting a bit lively too.

They sure are, he said. And look over there at that old bishop. I think he’s going to eat that child’s …

Burger? I said.

Yeah, nodded Rockhopper.

So we ran outside and grabbed a donkey parked with its engine running.

Quick, I said. Take us to a sane pub.

A sane pub? laughed the Rockhopper. Here on Craggy Island? Are you mad?

All right, I said. Take us to another pub.

And so it was that we came to Joe Watty’s. Jesus, the place is looking a bit shook, I observed.

‘Tis, said the Rockhopper, but the beer is good, and it’s surprisingly spacious inside.

It was the height of the rush hour. Total gridlock.

Let’s get away from the pressures of this crazed modern world, whispered the Rockhopper, and without another word, pushed his way inside the little tavern.

Give us two pints, Sister, I begged the landlady.

The blessin’s of god on ya, my son, said the kindly old nun, before pulling two delicious creamy pints of black stuff.

This pub also turned out to be full of drunken clergy …

priest’s housekeepers …

… and hairy babies.

… of one kind or another.

Fuck it, we missed the Freak-pointing, I suddenly remembered.

Not to worry, said Rockhopper. We’ll go to the Duck-startling competition tomorrow.

A priest in a shiny jacket approached us. Why don’t ya go to the Lovely Girls Competition tonight, at the Hotel? I’ll be there, singing My Lovely Horse.

Hotel? we puzzled.

Óstán Árainn, he confirmed. It’s beside the Holy Stone.

Rockhopper stared at him for a long moment. Hotel? Holy Stone? Fuck! I don’t know what the old island is coming to.

I know, I said. And look. There’s your sister again, still swallowing pints.

Dammit, he said. You’re right. It’s the influence of all those nuns and priests. They used to be such lovely girls.

Lovely girls, I agreed, wistfully.

I approached a local Old-Grey-Fellow for guidance. He was muttering imprecations to himself as Gaeilge, and it struck me how difficult he was to follow. As you’ll know, if you’re a fan of Briain Ó Nualláin, good Irish is hard to understand, but the best Irish is completely incomprehensible.

Céard a cheapann tú? I implored of him

He regarded me calmly for a moment before answering.

Do you know what? he said.

What? I replied.

Isn’t it a bad sign that the ducks are in the nettles?

How wise this old fellow was.


I suppose we’ll have to go back next year. What do you think?

Sure beats the hell out of Bloomsday.

  14 Responses to “More Tedfest”

Comments (14)

    Sorry I couldn’t be there.

    I kicked my neighbour up the arse though (his name’s Brennan) just to get in the swing like.


    Ye’r all mad!


    Jesus God Almighty BOCK, you bastard, this post is superb.
    I’m in a Quiet place and bollix if I didn’t try to stop laughing out loud.
    You fuckin’ bollix, well done you BOCK!
    Writing like this is supreme and; the photos are just excellent.
    Wa Hey!……………..


    Bock, what a hoot!! I am on board for next year, what a riot. I can hardly stand it. Would you mind a Yank tagging along?


    Well Done Bock, looks like great fun. Would love to be there………feckit anyway.


    Any chance I could get the sexy nuns number


    Jesus Christ the country’s in RECESSION! If ye were pagans itself there might be some hope of showing ye the light. But no. Corrupt humourists, is it? Well if ye think ye can LAUGH and SNEER yeer way out of it then don’t come running to me when the BOILING TAR and the BRIMSTONE singe the hairs on yeer arses for ALL ETERNITY, for ye know what I’ll say to ye.


    “So we ran outside and grabbed a donkey parked with its engine running.”

    Brill, just brill.


    Fab Bock! It looks like a riot out there! I have a third cousin that looks a lot like your doll in the yellow apron there.

    Freak-pointing competition – I love it!


    That’s one off the top shelf Bock.Smashing post.Tell the good sister in pic 3 I’m a believer.


    Primal — Did you call him Len?

    Mary — true enough.

    Unstranger — Thanks Mammy.

    BSB — You’d be more than welcome.

    Anthony — maybe next time?

    Ted — You could always ask, but I’m afraid I don’t know the holy sister.

    Nick — Well, we know now!

    Conan — Why weren’t you at Tedfest?

    Sammi — Not to mention Duck-startling.

    Muke Taker — Looks like you’ll have to slug it out with Ted for the good Sister’s affections.


    Glad you had a good weekend Bock. I think I recognise the back of those two wise heads staggering up the road. How are the mad uncles? Unfortunately I definitely recognise the ‘local old grey fellow’!


    A chailín deas as Inis Mór —

    God bless your eyesight that you spotted the Old-Grey-Fellow, but that wasn’t the end of our scintillating conversation.

    ‘Tis hot, I remarked to him.

    ‘Tis, sor, he replied.

    And that was when the fight broke out …


    “Clit power Ted, what does that mean? God Dougal I don’t know, I knew a Father Clint Power in the seminary, maybe she’s having a go at him”. Sinead O’Connor episode.

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