John Paul II ruined our sex lives. Will Francis do the same?

So the Pope is coming back next year. If only I knew then I was going to become a newspaper columnist years later, I would have gone to all of the papal gigs.

But I didn't. I hadn't much interest. I wouldn't say I was the most sensible of young lads but I knew a con job when I saw one.

The visit had nothing much to do with love. It was about keeping up appearances, usually in long flowing robes with theatrical hats and golden mitres on this small lorry called a Popemobile which all the lads were dying to take out for a spin. The country was covered with yellow and white flags, the papal colours. Think Castlebar when Mayo are in an All-Ireland final and multiply by 10. The plan was to keep Ireland Catholic.

Another big reason for the visit of John Paul II was the curtailment of the rise of sexual passion among the young Irish. I'm convinced of that. By now, some of you will be getting upset already and we're only barely pulling out of the driveway. Don't go stressing yourself now if you are in disagreement. There is no need to read on. Here is the usual warning: there is sex in this column and flashing lights at a papal disco.

I didn't attend the Galway rally where the Pope professed his love for the young people of Ireland in an accent we all took off in the pub. But I was, and am, a witness to post-history and the consequences of the Pope's persuading young, hysterical Irish girls to go off sex.

Dana's huge holy hit 'Totus Tuus' was played at the end of the night in Tralee RFC, a wonderful place to this very day. All the young ones went watery-eyed. They had the look of piety about them like as if they were ascending into heaven. As one lad said to me: "That was the end of the shift."

The Pope ruined our sex lives for at least two years. I'm not saying there wasn't any pre-marital sex after the visit, all I'm saying is there was less of it about.

Maybe it wasn't quite as bad as long ago. I asked one old boy "if there was much sex in Ireland back in the old days?"

"Ah, Billy," he said with a sigh. "It was there alright, but you'd have to go through a draper's shop to get at it." But it was bad enough.

The sexual revolution of the sixties only hit Ireland around the mid -seventies and it was more of sexual revolution light. Up to then, if a young lad got what was known as a bit of outside the jumper, he would be delighted with himself. Outside the jumper was a great old treat in the old days, for sure. You'd see lads jumping up and down pretending to catch imaginary footballs with the joy of it and the other lads would be dead jealous.

But then you had rock festivals in America. Sex spread and became very popular here at home as a pastime. Many of the grandmothers and great grandmothers of today were great old goers. A 70-year-old Irish lady told me lately: "I got laid in a tent in Woodstock."

Unfortunately, I forgot to ask her if this was the Woodstock in America or the one near Ennis. If you were one of those who led the revolution here at home, can you please get in touch to help verify the above? I'm expecting a backlash.

French kissing came in before the American revolution landed here but then Maynooth post-truth put it out that some mad young wan bit a fella's tongue off and he was a lovely singer who could have made it with Big Tom and the Mainliners or Gina, Dale Hayes and the Champions, if only he hadn't sinned. There was the usual bit about her taking off her Wellingtons and hooves for toes. It seems the Devil could morph into a woman at a moment's notice. Which was bad old form.

The story was he could only hum after that and had no sense of taste, which ruined the bacon and cabbage on him. I am pretty sure there was a Maynooth post-truth department putting out all kinds of stories. If you are the man who had his tongue bitten off, please come forward and prove me right.

A lot of Irish girls were beginning to go abroad to Spain and the likes on holidays and the rumour was when they were on holiday, and away from the mothers, they were going off with handsome, swarthy foreigners who didn't speak English and wouldn't be boasting to the lads back home at the pub about their exploits.

Some of them supposedly got knocked up deliberately so as to have another de Valera whose father was by all accounts a Spaniard. As if one wasn't bad enough. Again, I have no definite proof of this counter-culture. Please get in touch if you went off to have a de Valera baby.

Meanwhile, all the time here at home, the Church was ignoring sexual abuse.

Now I know that in the past I blamed Bord Fáilte for this old myth, but I'm absolutely certain the story came from Maynooth post-truth. The innocent Irish girl was invited to dinner by the Spanish seducer. It wasn't even a proper dinner with meat and spuds and carrots. She ate salad and died agonisingly when the lizard eggs hidden inside the tomatoes hatched and ate their way out through her belly button.

In the unlikely event you survived the lizard break-out or witnessed same, please get in touch for verification purposes. Could someone translate this into Spanish and post it to Spanish websites and 'El Paz'? If the Spaniard wasn't the Devil, he might come forward to help us with our enquiries.

The problem for me is I can only go on personal recollection. I was there. I was a witness to history. But what if 'The Pope says nope'. That's me and my fairly true history done for. The Pope is infallible and this means everything he says is automatically correct.

I would be very and most grateful if you could contact me if you had pre-marital sex at any time between the years 1978 and 1982. That's the four years after the papal visit. The effect of the visit faded by 1982 and the returning J1s brought sex home with them from America.

There's nearly too much sex in Ireland now. Well, before marriage anyway. So much so that it's not even considered to be that much of a treat any more. Outside the jumper wouldn't even be seen as foreplay nowadays.

I wonder will this papal visit change Ireland to chaste.