Bertie Ahern. (2 Viewers)

no one outside his constituancy can understand what he says

Do I detect a whiff of Jackie bashing? Or is that just....oh. Oh, never mind.

feet.jpg


It wouldn't be the Kingdom if it didn't have no King.

And, as The King's kindred spirits on the streets of Baltimore says, "You come at the king, you best not miss."
 
Do I detect a whiff of Jackie bashing? Or is that just....oh. Oh, never mind.



It wouldn't be the Kingdom if it didn't have no King.

And, as The King's kindred spirits on the streets of Baltimore says, "You come at the king, you best not miss."

Didn't Van Morrison write a song about him*?


*I once said this to Van Morrison who thought it was hilarious (Imagine, I've seen VM smile), and then asked, "Who's that?"
 
Didn't Van Morrison write a song about him*?


*I once said this to Van Morrison who thought it was hilarious (Imagine, I've seen VM smile), and then asked, "Who's that?"
You made Van Morrison smile? Are you Michelle Rocha then?
 

Fast forward two years and that kid's gonna be the self-aggrandising king of the UCD L&H, licking the arses of liberal intellectuals and corporate tyrants alike, maybe not even washing his tongue between bumslurps.

He'll have had some McDowell-style falling out with Ogra Fianna Fail, too, and believe it newsworthy, so he'll hound the University Observer until they do a piece on it, which he'll then claim was a half-truth, which will result in further coverage of the 'scandal'.

What does it mean when someone else's life flashes before your eyes?
 
tea shop

Convinced they might have nicked a game which would have put them
just 90 minutes away from - gulp! - the World Cup Final, the players sat slumped, completely deflated, some with their heads in their hands, others hooded in towels, the tomb-like silence broken only by the
sound of the odd boot thudding against a wall, as a weary foot shook it
off.

Suddenly, the door to the dressing room burst open and a man in an elegant suit entered in good cheer and loud voice. Arms aloft he launched into a stirring speech about the warrior sons of Erin, the brave performance of the team, the honour they had brought to their country, and much more in that vein. This was Charles J Haughey in
full oratorical flight.

After he'd gone on like this for a couple of minutes, Quinn was nudged in the ribs by Tony Cascarino, who rather loudly inquired: "Oo the
fack is 'e, then?" Quinn growled back a whispered, "For God's sake Cas, that's the Taoiseach." Whereupon, Andy Townsend turned to Cascarino
and asked: "Oo is it, Cas?" "I dunno," Cascarino replied, "but Quinny
says he owns a tea shop."
 
Fast forward two years and that kid's gonna be the self-aggrandising king of the UCD L&H, licking the arses of liberal intellectuals and corporate tyrants alike, maybe not even washing his tongue between bumslurps
here he is:

441587262a7021006789l.jpg


and with one of his mates:

441587262a5202811975l.jpg
 
I've been to Wikipedia and Google there, and so I am now an expert on the Eoghan Harris.

An Eoghan Harris seems like a bad thing. I say that despite being Aristotelian.
 

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18 Camden Street Lower, Saint Kevin's, Dublin, Ireland

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