There’s something amiss. I can’t quite put my finger on it but there are most certainly grounds for suspicion. Such as:
He’s far too sweet to be wholesome. He hasn’t really offended anyone. How is this possible?
He’s got a big gut for a wee man. There’s no way we, the Irish public, can put this down to stout. If there Is an innocent explanation, then it’s probably due to excessive consumption of oatfield clove rock. (Big if!). Otherwise we have to contemplate the possibility that his gut is down to eating swans- or worse.
He keeps saying delightful. No man in Ireland has ever truly been delighted about anything. Yet this bollox is delighted about everything he’s ever had to speak about. No effin’ way José. Not on my watch.
It’s down to m.d. that the rest of the world are starting to believe in leprechauns.
He’s from the wesht. Yet he’s adopted that trinity foxrock ‘we speak English the way it is meant to be spoken’ fluttering flock of swallows accent. Sure we could all play that game.
He has had his henchmen kidnap and brainwash @Enrique and @maroonandwhite
Earlier he used their online personas to circumvvent what would have been a groundswell against his renonimation. In doing so he also stripped them of their logic, ethics, reason and gonads.
So do you have a vote in this upcoming election? I’ve lost track of the current status of NI residents. You seem to have an unhealthy obsesssion with a pretty meaningless role.
Delightful is a commonly used word on TFK. As in "I went for a delightful afternoon tea in the Westbury with my life partner and missed the first half of the Limerick game ".
You’re not suggesting they’re the same person?
I assumed he was just camping it up by way of throwing a curve ball by way of challenging the macho vibe etc.
What’s going on up in the Áras? That question kept zipping around my head as I tucked into the porridge, one morning last week. Then, if the Áras wasn’t bad enough, I saw something that nearly killed me. Having devoured my copy of the Irish Examiner, I had turned to the Irish Times and came within a whisker of choking on oats. Buried deep in the “paper of record’s” letters page was a missive that sent me into convulsions of shock.
But, first, Michael D and the courtiers in the Park. It emerged last week that the President’s chief adviser, Mary van Lieshout, has left under circumstances that are far from clear. The Sunday Times reported that the issue was a tiff straight out of the royal court of an ancient European monarch. Apparently, the chief adviser was peeved that her access to the king, sorry, President, was impeded by a junior functionary wielding excessive power.
This gent, Kevin McCarthy, is bestowed with the title executive assistant, and ascended to his role having served as a driver in the last election.
Two days after the story broke, Ms van Lieshout attempted to kill it by issuing a statement that she had left on amicable terms.
