"A Piece Of Land That My Husband Is Only Going To Get Six Feet Of"

By Charley Brady

You were sullen that ordinary people had turned their backs on you murderous amoebas who in no way represent anyone except your own blood-crazed brethren.

So the answer, as always IS the answer of brain-dead pigs was to kill two British soldiers who were on their way to Afghanistan.

You know something, you murderous morons? You aren't even all that good at it are you? You send out shells to the tune of sixty bullets and you kill two British soldiers and wound a nineteen year old and a Polish guy who came to Ireland thinking that we were the country of the welcomes.

Seven bullets in him and he survived. Some welcome.

Something tells me that he may be just a wee bit tougher than you bunch of spray-everything-and-hope-that-we- hit-something gobshites.

They were delivering bloody pizza, for crying out loud and your "defence" is that they were collaborators.

Christ on a stick. I really thought that we had moved on.

Gerry Adams, needless to say - and anyone who reads me (hello to all six of you, by the way) knows my opinion on him - came out with his usual fudge and refused to condemn them. We can't use the murder word in these enlightened times, can we?

Of course, slippery sod that Adams is - and he's good at it now that he's in his Armani suit and walks with the Royalty - has had to change his weasel words slightly as he sees the groundswell of opinion turn against the cowards who performed this awful action.

Then, as if things weren't bad enough, the Continuity IRA - as opposed to the hilariously named Real IRA who have happily claimed credit (ha!) for the murder of the soldiers - have come out of whatever lice-infested rock that they have been hiding under to organise the murder of a policeman who was responding to a distress call.

I'll let his widow Kate O'Carroll talk, because she certainly puts it better than I ever could.

If there's a chance that you filth can actually read - something that I doubt - then listen to the heartbreak in these words:

"A good husband has been taken away from me and my life has been destroyed. And what for? A piece of land that my husband is only going to get six feet of. These people have taken my life as well."

I have never handled a gun in my life and if someone gave me one the chances are that I would accidentally blow my foot off. Yet I have worked in places these last ten years that I would love to see these planks being dropped into.

Apart from having a massive bowel movement into their trousers, I doubt very much if they would have the savvy or the cojones to last ten frigging minutes.

Still, it's a bit easier to do it when you have your mommy's balaclava over your Neanderthal heads, isn't it?

Of course we will still hear the usual eejits saying that the boys are back. They're some boys all right. Some monsters.

Let's be honest here and say out loud what we all think.

This country was established in a hail of gunshots and gore almost one hundred years ago. Do we really want to "celebrate" 1916 by ushering in another century of vileness and bloodshed by more killing, by more slaughter?

Who are you creeps actually fighting for in any case?

Not for me, that's for sure, and not for anyone that I know because we're all too busy trying to get on with paying our mortgages, looking after the kids, catching an occasional movie or taking a walk in the park.

Do you pricks have a life at all outside of maiming, kneecapping and just plain hurting people?

You are not heroes, no matter how many dopey Wolf Tones ballads you may listen to.

To be honest, if I stepped on one of you I wouldn't even bother to scrape my shoe off the pavement. You are just not worth it.

You are not freedom fighters; you are fascists who have made yourself in your own limited mentality into the judges and executioners of people who did not deserve to die at your loathsome hands.

If there really is Hell, I hope with all of my heart that you will rot in it.

Amen.

You can reach Charley at chasbrady7@eircom.net