N2 - Slane Bypass [planning granted]

veryangryman

In advance of the giving out by a certain someone

Ode to the Frog, Lord of Lanes

On Boards.ie, there dwells a sage,
A prophet of the tarmac age,
Named Frog — not green and mild,
But raging, ranty, roadways wild.

No humble bypass wins his praise,
He scoffs at dual-carriage malaise.
“Two lanes?” he roars, “That’s peasant fare!
Where’s my I-95 out there?!”

He dreams in cloverleafs and ramps,
Of toll booths lit like Vegas camps,
Of slip roads stretching east to Maine,
With roadside signs in Texan twang.

A simple N-road upgrade? Sin.
“Where are the five fat lanes to win?
This piddling fix is far too meek—
I want a freeway every week!”

He sneers at cycle paths with pride,
Calls bus lanes “Marxist shite” and snides
That walking’s “fine—for poor old folks,”
Then posts a meme of Hummer jokes.

He cites "the Yanks" with reverent glee,
"Over there, they'd build an M3
For sheep to cross in leather boots—
Not this limp Irish muck in suits!"

And when a bypass saves a town,
This frog still lets fly a frown:
“No stack interchange? No flyover?!
You’ve ruined my inner Range Rover.”

He mourns each rural cul-de-sac,
Demands a toll booth in the back.
“Kilkenny needs a ring of chrome!
A six-lane spine right through your home!”

Oh Froggy, green in name alone,
Your heart is built of curb and stone.
You’d pave the Shannon, brick the bog,
Just for one more V8 slog.

So here’s to you, great concrete bard,
Posting blueprints hard and hard—
May your roads be wide, your shoulders broad,
And may you someday meet a quad...
...that runs on grass, and breaks your heart.

spacetweek

Pure class!