Kim and Kanye on their way to the Gap­py Geerbox?

Glam­orous new­ly weds Kanye West and Kim Kar­dashi­an were con­tro­ver­sial­ly refused when they queued up out­side Lim­er­ick hot spot the Gap­py Geer­box at the weekend.

Kanye was asked to emp­ty his pock­ets, and in the absence of any kind of a weapon he was told to choose form a selec­tion of the house knives provided.

The own­er of the Gap­py G, as it’s known local­ly, explained, “If you turn up at a golf club with­out a tie, they give you one to put on. Well it’s the same class of a car­ry on here. We’ve a rep­u­ta­tion to think of.”

Kim and Kanye, who are hon­ey­moon­ing in the West of Ire­land had already run into trou­ble ear­li­er that evening, when they’d been enjoy­ing a quick drink at the Jim­my Dog. Kanye had asked for Crys­tal, only to be told that it was her night off, but that Dolores here would look after him instead. This though was said with so many the­atri­cal winks, raised eye­brows and air nudges, that an enraged Kar­dashi­an stood up to object.

Before any­one could say any­thing a dozen of the fifty or six­ty min­ders they had with them descend­ed en masse on the hap­less Dolores to vicious­ly assault her. Nine of them were sub­se­quent­ly hos­pi­talised, though only two were seri­ous­ly hurt — unless you count a frac­tured skull as “seri­ous”.

Michael O’Leary stren­u­ous­ly denies the cou­ple were treat­ed any dif­fer­ent­ly to any of the oth­er cus­tomers on Ryanair.

Dolores her­self was not unscathed. One of the fas­ten­ers on her bra strap was bad­ly dam­aged – imag­ine, that was the night she chose to wear a bra! Though she was reluc­tant to say any­thing more, as the whole thing’s been hand­ed over to her legal team who are cur­rent­ly prepar­ing what’s like­ly to be a sub­stan­tial claim.

It was then that the new­ly weds made their way to the Gap­py G, only to be met with more trou­ble. After refus­ing to select from the blades on offer – “not even a Stan­ley” one of the locals com­plained — Kanye was then seen qui­et­ly refus­ing the joint he’d been offered. “It mess­es with my morn­ing Pilates regime”, he sheep­ish­ly explained. At which point his bride arrived to join him in the queue.

Sit­ting astride a bejew­elled palomi­no pony, with ruby-stud­ded hooves and an emer­ald-encrust­ed tiara atop its mane, Kar­dashi­an her­self sport­ed a see-through chif­fon gown woven from indi­vid­u­al­ly, fair-trade har­vest­ed, organ­ic silk worms, over a nat­ur­al-death leop­ard skin thong and brassier, with high heel shoes sculpt­ed taste­ful­ly by Jeff Koons from a 490.6 carat dia­mond, mined from the depths of the south Atlantic, and def­i­nite­ly not from South Africa. Or, for that mat­ter, any­where else in Africa.

“If you’re going to go out and about on the town like, you have to make some kind of an effort. Ya one looks like she’s just fall­en out of bed. I wouldn’t let my 9 year old daugh­ter out the house like that, not even to buy her fags.”

“What kind of a wed­ding do call that any­way?” one of the club’s reg­u­lars com­plained. “She’s not even preg­nant!” “Don’t mind that,” her friend said. “Sure they’re not even rela’ed!”

For a full gallery of pics, see pages 2–149.

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