Mon Utd

I apologise to my throngs of followers out there; I haven't posted in a while. I've been distracted by football you see. Or to be more precise, a particular football ground which I have just visited. On Friday just gone, myself and a few hundred other clowns made the trip to Kingspan Century Park in Gortakeegan, just outside Monaghan Town.
Now when I say this ground is heroic, I don't mean heroic in the Guardian's Top 50 Football Stadiums You Absolutely Must Watch a Match at Before You Die And The Atmosphere's Quite Good Also sort of wanky way. Let me paint you a picture. On one side you have the main stand, holding no more than 400, and the clubhouse. On the other side there's nothing. Behind one goal there's an industrial estate. Behind the other there's cows on a hill. Now these cows are probably the second best thing about the ground. They watch the match and, if the mood takes them, form themselves into a sort of bovine scoreboard. Only if the Magic Mons are winning though. Otherwise they get into a bit of a mood.
If that's the second best thing about the place, I hear you ask, what the bloody hell is the best thing? Oh, dear reader. The Mon dogs. The Mon dogs! Oh, they'd melt your face. We all know normal hot dogs are made from bits of animal scraped off the road. Well Mon dogs are made from bits of animal scraped off the most salubrious roads in the world. A cat run over by Roman Abramovich in Monaco, a badger run over by a sheikh in Dubai. Boiled up and put in a bun made from bread painstakingly made from scratch by an armless woman in Castleblaney. Smothered in red sauce bought from Tesco.
That'll have to do yiz for now, I'm off to try and re-create a Mon dog using some caviar and a lobster. The lobster says he can't cook but I think he's being modest. Good luck.