FOURTH LETTER TO THE TAOISEACH
Date as postmark
Date as postmark
Phew! Am I a relieved man?
I heard from your secretary (SD) that you did not have any act or part in the You Tube affair, and that it was a stupid impersonator that caused you all that grief. Taoiseach it restored my faith in your good self. But before you can relax into your soft chair let me warn you of another disaster lurking in the shadows. There are people surrounding you who are intent on bringing you down by their ridiculous suggestions. Chief among those is that Green Minister – the Minister with the bicycle clips.
That’s a dangerous bucko!
That fellow could do more damage that Pontius Pilate. I heard him say with my own two ears that there was a shortage of water in Ireland and they would have no option but to introduce a water charge in the next budget. I was furious. So I hopped on my bike and off I went to Brittas Bay. To the untrained eye there did not appear to be any less water in the sea than last year – so I thought to myself that the shortage might be on the other side, so I phoned my cousin in Dingle and he assured me that everything seemed to be in order there. He also stated that he had received a letter from his daughter in Nantucket that very day and there no mention that the sea had disappeared there either. After exhaustive research I established that the Shannon and Lough Neagh had not suddenly dried up and that the Three Sisters were still intact.
Taoiseach this water shortage is a ruse and unless you rein that fellow in, he will do more damage than the last budget. These Green fellows are not like you or I. We would tuck into a good feed of corn beef and cabbage – no these boyos are munching at salads and fiddling around with corn on the cob! It’s no wonder their old heads go soft. Give these fellows any latitude and God only knows where they will drag this country.
It was very disappointing to find out that the Lads in the Indo thought you were spending too much time in the snug. Now I must confess that I’m no skinflint myself -corpulent to put it mildly - but I must admit that when you emerged to greet the world after your vacation, you seemed to be carrying a fair bit of condition. I know you have more chicken suppers thrown at you than Tom Jones has panties, but nonetheless it is your duty to button up the old gob – after all what will Mrs Sarkozy think of you.
Image is very important as you well know. Look at the metamorphosis that happened when Bertie took the crown. He hung up the old anorak, donned his Armani and he never looked back …. Even the Dublin supporters hardly recognised him.
Having looked at all the dieting options out there I have come to the conclusion that the cabbage water diet is the job for you. There is no shortage of cabbage in your constituency - in fact I would say plentiful - and your driver could have a flask at the ready day and night. A mug or two of that would make short work of the hunger pangs. Another bonus of this particular diet is that the porter tastes absolutely vile after a cupful of the same. This would irradicate any temptation to dive into the snug especially late at night when most damage is done.
I will forward you a detailed aerobic training programme when I get the time, but for now I must rush – the wife is blowing the horn in the driveway….. She is taking me down to get my swine flu injection.
Is Mise Le Meas
James A. Archer
PS. What is Nama?