In a world full of doomsday predictions and visits by Olli Rehn; students being clubbed down on the streets; and men tossing off under Cara magazine on Aer Lingus flights, it seemed as though we really were going to hell in a handcart.
Until this happened.
Through the gloom broke a shining golden beam of crispy deliciousness. Representing all that is right and true and good about Ireland came news of the Tayto Theme Park. A happy place, populated by Hunky Dory buffalo and where baby Taytos gambol in Crispy Creek.
So you thought the idea of Jurassic Park was far fetched? Baby, the word has been made flesh. We cannot express our joy at the thought of the Tayto Park. Could this be the place we have always dreamed of - a place to go and legitimately stuff our faces with as much delicious Tayto as possible? A place where chislers can be inducted into the joys of heavily salted deep fried potato, as soon as they can slurp down solids? What a dream that would be!
There is one concern that I must raise at this point though. Why in God's name is there no Bistro? WHY is is there no Tayto Bistro - in homage to what is arguably the finest brand of luxury, big bag crisp there is. A "share bag" eh? Yeah right.
Advertised
Perusing the map, in my excitement I thought (25) read "Secret Underpants" but no it is only Secret Underpass. Still that might be exciting too.
Share with us your joy. Or lack of. To the comments!
