From: Liam Conway, TD
Rose Cottage Hill, Killarmon
To: Patricia Burke,
Killarmon Tourist Office
An Bord Failte
Main Street, Killarmon
Enclosed is the new brochure, hot off the presses. This one is, of course, aimed at the Yanks. However- re our phone conversation of Tuesday last, there are still a few problems than need to be addressed before we do the big push for next season at the Travel Expo. Otherwise we could end up the same as last year and I know none of us wants that. That woman from Peoria (wherever the bloody hell THAT is) is still writing me letters, God only knows if I’ll ever get her off my back. Anyway, here is a preliminary list of the most pressing issues.
First and foremost- Billy Hughes. I know there’s no way we can stop him camping there on the Castle Green without having to turf out all the bloody European backpackers as well, but if he decides to run around starkers again I’m going to have Seamus nick him and put him into a cell or have him handcuffed to a bed up in the Hospital while we tear down his damned tent and throw it in the skip. He nearly did for that poor Australian couple leaping out at them that way. The poor old devil, God love him. But we can’t have him frightening the tourists like that- someone’s going to take a tumble off the cliff and then where will we be? Up the Liffey without a paddle, that’s where.
Also, the carry-on of those lads at the football match last Sunday week was appalling. And me sat there with a load of Frenchies from our twin town, I was never so embarrassed in my life. I always thought that Danny Murphy was a nice young fella but the language what came out of him would curl the hair on a brass monkey. It took five of the lads to get him and Rat Byrne apart, my Jaysus. He volunteers on the Lifeboat, get Matthew McBride to put a word in his ear. Better yet- get his sister Orla Davitt onto him and she should be well able to make sure it doesn’t happen again.
We need to put some pressure on Leo at the Seaview to get that heating fixed. The poor bastards from Florida were nearly froze to death in there and I don’t think giving them hammers to bang on the radiators with was a proper solution to the problem.
I had another complaint about Paulie Cullen’s band and his drunken rendition of the “new and improved” version of that Flintstones song. It’s alright for the winter when it’s just us, but I can’t have him doing it in a pub full of Yanks. You know what they’re like- Christ, you can’t even say “arse” on the telly over there, we’ll have someone dropping dead of the shock.
Tell Ciaran Murray to stop pulling that scam with the bikes or we’ll shop his fat lazy self to the Gardai. It’s not on, him closing up shop early and then charging people an extra day’s rental when they can’t bring the bloody things back. It’s hard enough living in a world full of Paddy jokes without that shite going on.
And- last but not least- Dyke Duffy ran off a café full of people at Hannah’s the other day, and Breda says she’s going to skull him with a skillet the next time he gets in there. As it was he made off with some German fella’s ham salad sandwich before they could chase him off. Do something about the little bastard, run him over with your car if you have to.
As you know we’ve the Regatta coming up here in a few weeks, and please God we’ll get through it without anyone being carted off in the ambulance or filling up all the cells in the Garda Station. Oh, by the way, that little Yank what works for Martin Healy down in the laundry cornered me in the Anchor the other night and was at me again about the bloody window display contest they have after the parade. I near to never shut her up- find out what the hell she’s on about, would you? Bloody Yanks- they’re all mad as hatters anyway.