I want to kill the Galway Girl

Every time I have to listen to this fucking song it makes my ears melt. My toes curl up like sweet wrappers in a fire and I lock myself in a dark wardrobe and hurl myself against the walls shouting 'La la la la la I can't hear you' until it goes away. This skippy-shitty-ditty is stealthily trying to take over the world and turn us all into some sort of gormless cider-loving yokels banging around on accordions and tin whistles.

It's all Bulmers fault. The cider company's latest ad, a typically gold-hued effort featuring utopian orchards, summery tones and a bit o' the ould dancin' and a-flirtin' between avuncular apple-pickers and gamey cailíns, uses this on its soundtrack. And now you can't turn on the TV without hearing it, or the radio either because it's having the arse thoroughly worn out of its welcome there as well.

Will you fuck off to hell with your fucking Galway Girl!

It's driving me bonkers. I'm thinking about getting a cat just so I'll have something to kick when it comes on.

I don't even know what the song is about, all I can gather is that some country singer with a really apalling twang - Steve Earle - found himself in Galway some time or other, and managed to find a local looker drunk enough to get past the sheer awfulness of his accent and hop into bed with him. She may well have gagged him, and he may well have liked it. Anyway, when he wakes up, she's obviously seen sense and bolted for the hills, leaving him all wistful and unfortunately, moved to write a song about his one night stand. Oh yes, her hair might have been black and her eyes blue Steve, but it'd be nothing compared to the seven shades of shite I'd kick out of you if I ever clapped eyes on you. And I wouldn't just batter you once Steve, no, I'd do it all day-i-ay-i-ay.

Thankfully, experience tells me that Bulmers will launch a new ad soon and the song will change. Their marketing is very clever in that every new campaign tells us that cider is for life, not just for summer, because in winter you can drink it with plentiful ice and look forward to spring that's just around the corner, and when spring arrives you can see the apples starting to grow and look forward to summer, when summer arrives it's like cha-ching folks it's summer out there get some cider down ye, and then autumn is all burnished reds, yellows and golds, so ergo, get some more cider down ye folks. Brilliant stuff.

But Galway girl is a step too far. They've crossed the line from mildly annoying into downright nauseating. I'd damn well drop my pants and piss in their vats if I thought anyone would notice.

Four things I feel like doing when Galway Girl comes on:

1. Taking up a position as the head cleaner of Jabba the Hutt's spitoon

2. Putting on my double-album of Country and Western covers, sung by Professor Stephen Hawking

3. Stripping naked and covering myself in jam and jelly, before agitating a wasps nest with a big stick and a petrol bomb.

4. Re-enact the famous Oliver Reed/Alan Bates Greco-Roman wrestling scene from Women in Love, where I'd take on a Speedos-clad Willie O'Dea in a fight to the death, for the right to face Mary Harney in the final.

Now, is everyone clear about my feelings on this matter?