After last week’s militant grain protest at Drogheda Port we axed the town’s pro and anti farming factions the question – Have farmers just gone too far?
We spoke to Joxer Reilly, who sits on the benches outside the TSB, for a fair and balanced critique of farmers.
Farmers – The Case Against
Don’t talk to me about faamurs. Are they ever happy? It seems to me they’re always whinging. Something’s always the matter. You know there’s something up when faamrs aren’t complaining.
It’s well known that the faamurs helped Cromwell sack the town by giving him access to their land – but these days if you try and go for a ramble through their fields they’ll be on you with shotguns.
“Buy our grain!” they say, even though it’s more expensive and not as good as the foreign stuff. “Faamurs are people too,” they say. They’re great exaggerators, the faamurs.
And then the price of milk is always too low. They can’t survive now Europe stopped giving them money to not milk their cows. Some of them don’t even pasteurize their milk. Imagine that? In this day and age. That’s just axing for hives.
And sure don’t they hate all non-faaming animinals, especially pets. Pets to them serve no purpose. If the faam cah becomes mates with the mice it’ll be making swift acquaintance with the sack and the water barrel before you can say ‘genetically modified chickens.’
And their sheep are always being et by famly dogs even though the dogs seen all those ads on the telly urging them not to. Paid for by tax-payers money. Not that faamers pay tax. They’re always fiddling their books to get the kids big grants for college.
There’s a faamur’s son in DIFE who goes to lectures by helicopter. He uses the grant to pay for aviation fuel. He’s studying to be a faamur even though faamurs are just born faamurs. He’ll learn nothing he didn’t know the minute he was pulled out of a cow by a faamur.
And then sure you’ve cows going baloobas all over the shop. Sure didn’t the foot and mouth cost Ireland a Six Nations back in 2001, not that I’m into the rugby but there you go.
And don’t talk to me about faamur’s maakets. Twenty quid for a wee jar of jam?! It must be only faamurs buying off of faamurs ‘cos nobody I know has €20 to spend on jam. They’re usually just something for the faamur women to do in between spa treatments, getting into horses and grooming their daughters to intermarry with more faamurs to tie up the land.
They say it’s a lonely old life being a faamur. But who wants to marry anyone who listens to Gaath Brooks? Faaming wives block it out by thinking of all the land they’ll inherit but eventually get worn down and look forward to Hooleys and baan dances and the chance to roll around in the hay with those strapping fit Latvian faamhands. It’s a vicious circle.
Not that I’ve anything against faamurs. But they do complain too much.
Next week – Farmers, the case for.