December Column from Irish American News

Here’s my December column. Please send all hate mail to 1-800-FECK-OFF!

Hooliganism
By
Mike Houlihan

Malachy Swift was not a bit modest about being a dog lover. He loved his Irish Setter Finoola.

Malachy was so in love with Finoola that he wanted to marry her. After all, Malachy and Finoola had been cohabitating for almost a decade and that alone was evidence of the integrity of their union. They’d been together even longer in dog years.

Actually it was dog years that gave their romance that May-December quality. Malachy was only in his late twenties and had met Finoola when she was a pup and he was just graduating from high school. So she was quite a bit older than Malachy.

Malachy had invented a computer application during college and made a fortune on the Internet matching up dates for the LGBT crowd on his website, “Sockets & Wenches”. He’d dabbled in the gay lifestyle himself but soon grew weary of the endless merry go round. Malachy was curious about inter-species affection.

One night while combing out Finoola’s shiny red coat after an Elton John concert at The United Center they took their relationship a step further. He put on a Johnny Mathis record of Christmas songs and poured a half bottle of Pinot Grigio into Finoola’s bowl.

Before you knew it they were both head over paws in love. Malachy proposed the next night over some milk bones and liver as he placed a diamond collar around Finoola’s neck and popped the question. It was a modest proposal. She said “Woof!” which Malachy took as a yes.

The nuptials were delayed a bit when they wouldn’t grant them a marriage license at the County Clerk’s Office. Malachy was not the type of guy to wait though and he immediately made a phone call to his old friend the Governor.

The Governor sensed an opportunity and insisted that Malachy come for dinner at the Mansion the following night. Malachy had donated quite a bit of dough to the Gov’s campaign because he believed in his agenda of raising taxes and increased abortions.

After a sumptuous dinner, the two men sat smoking cigars and sipping brandy in front of the fire as Malachy made his pitch.

“This is very, very, very important to me Governor. And to all of us who crave inter species marriage.”

Are you looking for marriage to all animals or just dogs?

“Well in my case it should be just Irish setters and I know you’d be on board with that because we’re both Irish.”

Irish Catholics!

“Exactomondo! I suppose we should include all dogs and most farm animals as well.”

But Malachy, let’s please exclude pigs so we don’t piss off any Muslims.

“By the way, Governor, I must ask you. What was that delicious dish we had for an appetizer tonight? I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so succulent or sweet.”

I thought you’d enjoy those Malachy. Those are baby fingers and toes. Planned Parenthood sends them over by the truckload. I got the recipe from the White House chef at the Inauguration Ball. You can only use first trimester babies because those are the most tender.

“Well they are just scrumptious.“

The Governor clinked his glass with Malachy and the two agreed that the next day legislation would be introduced to legalize inter-species marriage throughout the state.

Malachy thanked the Governor and made out a $500,000 check, on behalf of his organization Privacy PAC, to the Committee to re-elect the Governor. Privacy PAC is committed to electing legislators who support animal husbandry.

The two shook hands and Malachy said, “I’d like to get married in church, but I have a feeling that might be a problem.”

Not if you go to my priest, Father Larry, over in Oak Park.

“Oh, did he officiate at your marriage?”

Uh, no Malachy, actually I’m …divorced.

“Was she a bitch?”

Well, she wasn’t an Irish Setter.
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