Sinéad O’Connor reckons she has a fine arse.
The shaven headed former priest, or was that a bishop, is on a Sunday broadsheet today extolling the virtues of her derrière
Well actually, her piece was about the media intrusion into her recent marriage to Steve Cooney – but she did reference her arse on three occasions.
She didn’t mention exactly who the papers were. I’m assuming it wasn’t the Irish Times, Indo or Examiner.
That would leave the Sun, Mirror or Mail. I reckon t’was the Sun. After all, this is a paper that had a reporter impersonate a Sheikh to rumble ex England boss Sven Gormless Erikson – he’s straight out of central casting for Gollum in Lord of the Rings – for a front page exclusive.
The Red Tops will leave no stone unturned in their heroic quest to unearth their version of the truth.
But leaving all that aside, it was Sinéad’s claim that she has fantastic hindquarters that caught the eye of the nation on a day when Pool keeper Pepe Reina made an bollocks of it after flinging the ball into the back of his own net against the Arse at Anfield.
Meantime, in regards to Sinéad’s arse I had to seek advice from the boys in the Duck ‘N Drake on the subject.
One of the boys keeps a meticulous record of birds’ bottoms. He’s a keen and discreet admirer of the female posterior. He’s also a bit of a Reuben’s man in that he likes the big ones, as opposed to the bony ones that are all the rage these days.
This probably explains his risible opinion that Mary Harney’s hindmost, which can be measured in lines of longitude and latitude, is, when viewed in a certain light, of greater aesthetic value than Angelina Jolie’s arse. He nearly got barred for that one.
He even has special code words to alert the boys when a filly with an upwardly mobile chassis on her is passing. “Note d’arse”, is all he has to say to bring a conversation to an abrupt halt.
However, he wasn’t entirely sure about Sinead’s arse – formerly called Mother Bernadette Marie’s arse. She did possess a fine one, he admitted, back in the 90s – when she was also reported to be flirting with the idea of becoming a Rabbi. However, that was then he added. Sinéad a Rabbi? Nothing compares to Jew.
Sinead is not amused however, and today she let the offending scribes have it with both barrel’s, telling the female journalists in particular that they were jealous of her freedom, courage, talent and arse, adding that she was one of the finest artists and women born in this country.
“I think she’s gone mad Ted,” said Father Dougal.
Sinéad then went into the prerequisite rant about females scribes being victims of the patriarchal society, as personified by male editors, all of whom are, suffice to say, bastards.
Ah the auld patriarchal society. Aren’t us men demons for keeping the sisters down all the time?
Continuing with the same theme she then dragged up the past about her abusive mother. This raises the question. Are there any musicians/artists out there struggling with the legacy of a happy childhood? It can spell the death knell for your career.
? My father didn’t bate me
The brothers didn’t rape me
A contract has escaped me
Give some good old family angst ?
“Sorry son but that offer from EMI is off the table. Surely you must have an uncle that gave you an auld flaking, a nun that touched you up – in the sacristy preferably – or a 90 year old granny who slipped you her tongue whilst having a firm grip of your balls? The auld hetrosexual bit isn’t helping either I may add.”
Meantime, has anyone got objective proof that Sinéad has a fine arse? Maybe if Sinéad is reading this she can send us in a picture of her butt so we can put this matter to bed once and for all.