Ireland’s favourite full-time shiteposter and part-time sheep stalker has been hard at work this week, bravely exposing what he claims are vast money-laundering operations. According to our resident conspiracy politician, vape shops, phone repair places, and barbers are all fronts for international crime, political manipulation, and shadowy cabals rubbing their hands together over beard oil and cracked iPhone screens. It’s a bold theory, delivered with the usual Facebook Live

* Every so often, the Shitehawk Sentinel mailbag delivers another gem from the Fap Right, Ireland’s finest collection of half-evolved bollock-draggers who spend their days hallucinating threats and their nights spreading hate on the internet with the grace of a cow tap-dancing on a Nokia keypad. This week’s gift came from a lad convinced we are two men he knows. For privacy reasons, we will call them Igor and Tonio. We are honestly delighted he thinks that, because if these g

Ballybollocks was set aflutter this week after local fascist-in-residence Matt McBroody, a known racist, Maga dicks swallower and part time sheep stalker, announced that he intended to sue the Shitehawk Sentinel for defamation. The newsroom waited patiently for word from his legal team. When nothing came, we assumed the matter had died a natural death, the way most of Matt’s ideas do. After all, the man had already torpedoed his own reputation by sending everyone within WiFi

CarrickHealslut is getting into the festive mood, that magical time of year when local Christians prepare to celebrate the birth of a Palestinian baby they would absolutely starve, deport, or dump in the Moy if he showed up today. Shops are buzzing, plastic tat is flying off the shelves, and everyone is elbowing each other for the last discounted toy made by an eight year old in a sweatshop somewhere beyond the white world, but fear not, because one woman is here to remind us

Late last night, customs officers at Shannon seized a gigantic Temóoh parcel addressed to one Bradley Bellwether , also known in the digital cesspit as Brad the Fasch , or in certain agricultural circles as the sheep stalker . For readers not familiar with Temóoh, it is the marketplace where Europeans can buy goods manufactured by underpaid children and overworked adults, at prices so low they make your conscience itch, without having to face any European regulations. A parad

A grand Irish tradition dies with every migrant who sets foot on this island. Tragic stuff altogether. Our countryside customs are fading away, mostly because there simply are not enough Irish lads left to keep them going. Last time, we talked about the noble winter ritual of burning plastic in the fireplace, a scent as familiar as wet turf, one cherished by communities where over half the houses still refuse to use the bin collection. Some have turned it into a personal crus

After a full year gossiping like an alcoholic about anyone who dares disagree with him, after a year fabricating lies, fake evidence and stories dredged from the foggy hangover brain of the village lush, Murk is trying his last desperate move. No, apparently he has not spent twelve months being a bowl scraping of a man who defames everyone. No, he is not a piss tank threatening random locals. No, he is not a steaming sack of shite ruining the lives of people in his own com

In Ballybollocks, panic spread this morning after an impressive number of dead fish were found floating on Big Lough like they finally gave up on coexisting with the locals. Tests were carried out straight away, and suspicion rose even faster than Bradley MacOrf’s heartbeat when he hears a sheep bleat. Local fascist “politician” and full time sheep-stalker Bradley MacOrf rushed to the scene before anyone else. Not because he cares about the lough, or the community, or even ba

Today we are back in our own reality, though it might not be yours. Hard to tell sometimes, especially when the similarities between timelines line up like a pile of used nappies behind a culchie nightclub. Local fascist Bradley MacOrf, after months of whinging online that he was going to the police, finally did it. Big day for the lad. He waddled into the garda station with 13.976 kilos of printed screenshots from various social media pages, waving them around like the Dead

Somewhere in the multiverse, in the Ballybollocks Carrickmorons Municipal District, Brad O Nark has decided to prove once and for all to the so called loony lefties that the far right is definitely superior. How Is he doing that? With the Misery Outdoor Festival. The Misery Events in our universe are already a sight. A rally of lads who give the impression their saliva is more solid than their brain matter, a great parade of white fellas delighted with their foetal alcohol sy

Once again, we dive into that cursed timeline, the one where Councillor Brad O’Nark has absolute power over the Ballybollocks-Carrickmorons Municipal District. It’s a Wednesday night at The Drunken Leprechaun , and Brad has decided to make a public statement after some stubborn local lefties dared to oppose His Lordship of Fascist Shite. Word has it these ungrateful tree-huggers suggested that Brad doesn’t actually give a flying fuck about animal welfare. They’ve implied, the

Your favourite reporter has once again stepped through the cosmic arsehole that separates our world from the one where Councillor Brad O’Nark holds absolute power over the Ballybollocks - Carrickmorons Municipal District. It’s Monday morning, and Brad’s decided that 5G will be “the great cause of the month”  for November. “It fits well with Movember,” he proudly declared outside the community hall. “People are getting cancers and all sorts of diseases from 5G. I’m inviting t

You’ve probably been wondering where The Shitehawk  has been these past few weeks. Well, we found a window into an alternate universe, and over there, your favourite Anon User, Brad O’Nark , somehow got elected in your beloved Ballybollocks - Carrickmorons Municipal District . We’ve got a series of exclusive investigations on what happens when a certified halfwit from the Fap Right gets actual power. Wandering through the streets of Ballybollocks, one poster caught our eye: S

Since the COVID crisis, local wannabe politician and part-time shepherd Shane McMurk made what he calls “the discovery of the century”. Having spent years following David Icke’s wisdom, Shane already suspected that the vaccines contained all sorts of secret ingredients: RFID chips, 5G transmitters, nanobots, and possibly a few drops of Hillary Clinton’s sweat. Prudent as ever, Shane had all his clothes lined with aluminium foil: “you can never be too careful,” he reminded us,

In what can only be described as a monumental breakthrough for bad taste, the Ballybutthead changing rooms have officially been nominated by the Trump administration for inclusion in UNESCO’s list of World Heritage Sites. “This is art,” declared Trump during a press conference, wiping off what was possibly mayonnaise. “These kids have talent. I could have them in my communication team. The finesse, the subtlety, the… let’s call it depth. Wokeness didn’t win, folks.” The Art H

In a stunning display of innovation, the brand Brand "Píogeon Leochaileach"  launches new 100% Non-Halal, Masculine (but not Gay) Bacon  has announced a new range of “100% Non-Halal, Masculine (but not Gay)” products, promising to “restore the natural order of things”, namely, white men feeling superior while eating pork. Their flagship product, the bacon “100% Non-Halal, Masculine (but not Gay),” looks suspiciously like… well, regular bacon. But, as loyal customers insist, t

In an extraordinary turn of events, a louse currently residing on the arse of a sheep in a muddy field near Crookslurry has issued a public statement declaring he feels “deeply attacked” by The Shitehawk Sentinel’s latest article condemning gossip. “I’m not stalking the sheep,” said the tiny parasite indignantly. “We live together. It’s a symbiotic relationship. I take a wee bit of blood, she gives me warmth. That’s nature, not harassment.” The morpion, who wished to remain a

Last night, something terrible happened. Somewhere between a screech and a bowel movement, a disgusting little fascist leprechaun named Murk threw such a massive fit that miners in Africa thought a new underworld demon was finally coming to end their misery. Sadly, no. It was just Murk, the gobshite gremlin of the Irish swamps, the living proof that evolution occasionally gives up and goes drinking. His meltdown lasted a full day. The cause? One of our  articles. Who would’ve

This morning at The Shitehawk Sentinel , the phone was ringing, the ouija board was trembling, and our tarot reader nearly choked on her incense: at least four local fascists have publicly identified with the “wannabe politician” from our latest gossip scandal. We didn’t even name the fascist in our article, but apparently the shoe fits so tight they could hear it squeak. Honestly lads, you’re so desperate for external validation it’s like watching toddlers fight over a mirro

BALLYBOLLOCKS – The mysterious source of all Ballybollocks gossip, the grandfather of the uncle of the aunt of the brother-in-law of the sister of the neighbour’s friend, has once again thrown the local fachosphère  into chaos with today’s murky rumour: someone very, very  famous and local  is about to buy a large stretch of land in CarriChrist-on-a-Bike. The name is on every tongue, echoing through parish halls, hairdressers, and WhatsApp groups faster than a priest can say