Media morons continue to confuse “madcap,” “schizophrenic” for Irish.
Forget Beijing. Madcap Irishman Colin Carroll, part-time sumo “flyweight” and a world champion in elephant polo, has unveiled plans to launch the “Paddy Olympics.”
While his latest brainwave has perhaps come a little too late to steal the thunder from this year’s Beijing Olympics, the 35-year-old reckons he has struck gold with his idea.
“We would have the old favorites like bathtub races, backwards running and the egg-and-spoon 100 meters,” Carroll told Reuters in a telephone interview from his home in the Irish city of Cork.
“We may look into the possibility of using the whip in the bathtub races. Instead of discus throwing there would be mobile phone throwing.
“For the relays we could have mixed teams — two humans and two dogs. Animals are good.”
He added: “We may even be in time to host the first Paddy Olympics prior to Beijing. Dope testing would imply an entirely different thing of course.”
Carroll shot to fame in 2005, taking time off from his day job as a lawyer to win a surprise gold for Ireland at the world elephant polo championships in the Nepali jungle.ÂÂ
The really sad thing about this? They think it’s humorous.
I used to play water polo, but my horse kept drowning.
(ba-da-bump)
Brits don’t have the same sensibilities we have here. I remember a very cultured and sophisticated British person asking me why we were so sensitive about the word “nigger”.
Brainster – just tell ’em it’s a synonymn for “Irish,” circa 1890. They’ll understand perfectly.
Dan – I think it’s just a big misunderstanding and he meant “Patio Olympics,” and the reporter was too daft to listen properly, a common problem. Either that, or the pernicious influence of Victor McGlaglen, begosh & begorrah, strikes again, apparently afflicting actual Irishmen this time instead of how it usually just infects drooling 300 pound Irish-For-a-Day drunks named Kowalski wearing “kiss me I’m Irish” buttons and a quart of their own vomit. And trust me, the rest of you fuckers do not want to come from a real Irish family. One half of my dad’s side is Irish. Oh sure, they’re all witty and love music and a good drink, but the Catholic guilt coupled with blood fueds over trivial matters that go back 85 years… for one thing you’re probably not tough enough to live like that, it’s a bit like an emotional Middle East Problem. For another, shit, I’d almost rather be Jewish. Well, except for the whole everbody-seems-to-want-to-kill-me thing. See, nobody wants to kill the Irish, except for every other Irishman and a good few English, which is a whole lot better than having the Arab league, the EU, and about half the leftists in the world on your ass.
Strawberry: “I’ll cut you loose and give covering fire while you duck into the paddies. If you need air, call it in!”
Pablo: “Paddys? There’s no Paddys around here, man, just Chicanos!”
— “Up In Smoke”
Al – tell me about it… I am half and half… or, if you like, black and tan… you can only imagine how suicidal I am…