Ryanair last week was formally rebuked by the British Advertising Standards Authority for advertising St Étienne Airport as being Lyon airport, which is nearly 50 miles away, writes Kevin Myers.
This is rather like placing an airport in Dundalk and calling it Dublin International.
F**k off, don't talk such complete and utter crap, never heard such utter f***cking bo***cks in my entire f***ing life, you stupid f***ing c**t.
Ah, Mr O'Leary, kind of you to drop in, and what a rare pleasure it is indeed both to see and hear you. Married life suiting you?
Rare pleasure, my hole. And as for married life, none of your f***ing business, you arsehole, so just shag off, all right?
Of course. Sorry if I seemed intrusive. Now it is the case - is it not? - that you often land your planes some considerable distance from the city you name as the destination. For example, your scheduled service to Nairobi in Kenya doesn't actually land anywhere near there, does it?
Oh yes it f***ing does. Well, sort of.
It lands in Aberdeen.
Is it my f***ing fault that God put Aberdeen in the wrong f***ing place? Is it my f***ing fault if he then put Nairobi on the wrong side of Africa? Is it my f***ing fault that Africa's so f***ing far from Scotland? Don't blame me for what I can't f***ing help, chum. I didn't make this f***ing world. Lay the blame fairly squarely where it f***ing belongs. That's my philosophy.
But people arriving at the Rob Roy International Airport Aberdeen then have to get on a collier to Newcastle, a ferry to Norway, a coaster to Copenhagen, a train to Istanbul, another plane to Egypt, and finally a camel caravan to Nairobi. It takes four weeks!
Well good for them. They should count their lucky f***ing stars. Travel broadens the mind. What other f***cking airline would treat you to such delights on the journey to Nairobi?
Jesus Christ Almighty, but they're bloody paying for it all!
Language! But what do you expect at the prices we charge? The return fare to Johannesburg is a conker, a piece of string and a dead hamster. A red-eye flight there will cost you the fur on a half-sucked gobstopper that's been lying forgotten in a duffle-coat pocket since 1972. You can get a flight to the Congo for a piece of used dental floss you found in a rubbish bin in a hostel for winos. Los Angeles? Some chewing gum prised off O'Connell Street. A trip to Borneo? A half-bucket of compost, all credit cards accepted.
That's really kind of you. But the flight to Johannesburg doesn't even leave the runway. The plane just taxis its length and the passengers just get off at end of it and walk the rest of the way.
Bit of exercise is good for them. It's not so very far from Shannon International Airport to Johannesburg, you know.
That's another thing! It's not Shannon International Airport.
IT IS! Well, it nearly is.
No it's f***ing not! It's just outside Portrush.
Now you're splitting hairs and swearing. Very impressive. I can offer you a job in our Customer Service Department with social and communication skills like yours. Interested? No? Anyway, thanks to Ryanair our passengers get the chance to see the Giant's Causeway! And even Ahoghill!
I've seen the bloody Giant's Causeway and Ahoghill, and they both stink. And it's thanks to Ryanair that people wanting to fly to Cairo disembark at Reykjavik.
I hope you're not saying that just because travellers want see some sand dunes, they're also to be denied the rights to enjoy the geysers. We're a geyser-dune equality airline. Your complaints sound suspiciously like discrimination to me. I've a good mind to report you to the Equality Commission.
Ah, here comes the Equality Commissar himself, Mr Niall Crowley. Arise ye starvelings from your slumbers! Tootle-ootle-ooh!!! The people's flag is deepest red! Good morning, Comrade!
Good morning, Comrade O'Leary, and I'm placing you under arrest for having your left shoelace longer than your right shoelace. This is an offence under the Laces Criminal Law (Equality) Act, 2002, maximum penalty 15 years in the Moroccan galleys. To which I hereby now sentence you.
No, no, not the Moroccan galleys!!! No!!!!!!!! Please sir, please sir, I beg of you!!!
Why, I thought that'd be right up your street. You could fly Ryanair to Marrakesh International Airport, and then you could row the rest of the way, couldn't you?
Aaaarrrrgh!!!!
Excuse me. May I butt in here? But Mr O'Leary, will you please stop wailing and pulling out your hair and tell me: where precisely is Marrakesh International Airport, if you please?
(Sob) Mullinf***ingar.