Sure, you’re heard of the Joyces and Becketts, but what of these lads of local legend?

Johnny O’Gre, author of the plays “Ma, I Donae Wanna Go to Work!” and “Not Today Either!,” widely believed to be thinly veiled autobiographies; he lived with his mother until he was 75, when she passed on. At her funeral service, he fell on her coffin, wailing, “Who’ll make me tea now?!”

John Milk Derry, the genius who created but one work, and an unfinished one at that. “There Once Was a Man” was 5,500 rambling pages (and no end in sight) at his death. The story illustrates 5 minutes in the town of Kilkee, with each page densely packed disassociated streams of consciousness, quirky dialogue and vivid descriptions. Derry layers in countless literary allusions, bits of popular songs and, infamously, scores of interlocking limericks, some of which take on lives of their own. Some feel James Joyce’s blindness was caused by rage, after reading this limerician.

Brendan Beanie wrote the hit play, “The Kindergardener,” which caused quite a sensation, and his proclamation as “The Precocious Prince of Parkasilla.” Its follow up, “Stinky Milk,” was not successful; one critic declared “Beanie, a pretentious hack, is but a mere sad shadow of his former self.” At age 6, Brendan sulked “They’ll see, I’ll never write again.” And kept good his word.

Seaumus O’Drool never, as far as anyone can tell, actually wrote anything. But he looked enough like an Irish writer that he caged many a drink from a wide-eyed Dublin tourist, falling prey to his line, “You wouldna mind fillin’ me pint, wouldya? It’s tired am I, day and night on the ol’ typer-writer . . .” 

Just ran into Dave Creighton. Two things: 1) nice mac’n'cheese; 2) he said he’s going to print “I Heart Dave Creighton” bumper stickers.

Ee gads, what have I done? Will the gods of journalism send bolts of lightning through my keyboard?

Just to show I don’t play favorites, I’ll be writing a “Locals Only” column next week, confessing my mad crush on Peggy, how I want to adopt Garland, how I can’t wait to go deep sea fishing with Mike, the hours I spend by the phone, waiting for Nick to invite me to play golf . . . 

(Don’t worry, Bob and Dick, I’ll get you two, too!)

LOCALS ONLY (all others turn back now!)

By Tom Scanlon

I’d like to begin this column by boldly stating:

“I heart Dave Creighton!”

I’ll get back to that, and explain why, after meandering around a bit. 

Now, I’d like to clearly mark the above as “opinion,” and note that this column is, indeed, a column. As opposed to a News story.

Notes on the recession, care of the coffee-crazed dreams of a professional paranoid:

*The good news is that the bad news is not as bad as it could have been. Indeed, it is not as bad as Nostradamus predicted, by 57 percent.

*The bad news is that, effective immediately, there will be no more good news.

*Starbucks said it had “mixed results,” after laying off its entire fleet of 600,000 baristas, and going to a “self-serve environment.” There were long lines, and severe burns, as customers attempted to master the complex steamers. “We have full confidence that our loyal clientele will help us find our identity,” said a company spokesperson, doing a chipper radio interview from a busy store. “Indeed, we project that within six months . . . sir, what part of ‘milk first, steam second’ do you NOT understand?”

*In January, world-wide smiling was down, by an alarming 42 percent, over the previous January.

If I was running the Recession, here’s how it would go:

*Geico regretfully announces that, due to declining revenues, it will lay off the lizard,.

*In an effort to save on ink and paper, journalists around the U.S. have been asked to reduce the use of cliches by 30 percent, and slash hyperbole in half.

*Joe Biden, the Vice President of the United States of America, has been let go. President Obama said this will save more than $1 million in salary, benefits, Secrect Service, etc. Biden will receive a stipend of $25,000, to be “on call.”

*Saying it will save more than $100,000 per year, the Seattle Mariners announced they would discontinue the position of Third Base Coach. “We hardly ever have any runners get that far, anyway,” said a team spokesperson.

*The Pentagon has announced that, due to steep budget cuts, it will start 25% fewer wars, over the next decade. “We’re going to have to be very selective about where and when we go to war,” said a general. “There may be times when we have to say, ‘Sorry, guys, we can’t afford to fight you, we’re just going to have to talk this out.’”

*Paris Hilton has been laid off. “We’re not really sure what she does,” said a company spokesman. “But she won’t, anymore.”

*Boeing announced it was laying off CEO James McNerney, saving the company more than $20 million. Because of this layoff, thousands of Boeing production workers will keep their jobs.

*To save money, Company X laid off its entire Human Resources department. One month later, it planned more cuts. “That’s where we realized where we went wrong,” said a company spokesman. “There wasn’t anyone to handle the layoffs, so we had to keep everybody!”

*Citing “rising labor costs that we can’t justify,” Hollywood has given Adam Sandler his walking papers. As an actor, at least. He has been offered a position as a Assistant to the Production Assistant, at minimum wage (plus tips).

emailed to me last night by my acquaintance, Don Perignon:

I’ve come out from underneath the bed just long enough to say: President Obama’s inaugural speech was the scariest thing since Charles Manson!

Don’t get me wrong, I still think this could be one of the greatest American leaders of all time. He has the poise, charisma, intelligence and eloquence of a JFK, or an FDR. But did BHO have to be so tough on us?

If only it would have been what we’re accustomed to, the mediocre sloganeering babble of years past, or an Oscar speech on steroids (“And of course I’d like to thank Hilary Clinton, you’re so very talented, can’t wait to work with you again.”).

But, no, this acceptance speech was so frightening, so bone-chilling, I wouldn’t be surprised if George Romero helped write it. To summarize the plot: “A gang of zombies rampages across America, only they don’t eat flesh, they eat jobs, retirement plans and houses. The plan is to shovel money at them; our scientists don’t think that will kill them, but at least it will buy us some time.”