Been tryign to cotnact you for last week, but no answer to any of your phones so I have had to resort to using this shagging email yoke. I havent a clue how to use it but I can hardly ask the secretary, some things have to remain private. Excuse any typing errors, I’m doing this with one finger although there’s plenty of people giving me the two figners at the moment.
Where the hell are you anyway? I should have known when you were so eager to hand the the reins to me that there was somethign up. There I was warching you for the last ten years thinking “some day all this will be mine.” Well the day has arrived and now all “this” is mine, but “this” is not what I expected it to be.
It all started grand with me singing a few songs off the back of a lorry in Tullamore to my own people. They loved it, as one woman said to me, “you’re Irelands answer to Carla Bruni, only better looking.” I must have a word with Sarkozy, maybe he could arrange for Carla and me to do an album of duets.
Things didn’t look too good ovre the summer with George Lee and the little b****x Hobbs whining away on the television and newspapers every day. Do these guys ever take a holiday? At least I did the right thing and cancelled the tent for the builders and developers at the Galawy Races, can you imagine the stink they would have kicked up if that had gone ahead? Anyway, give me a good oul singsong in a pub in Birr or Ednederry to sipping champagne and grinning like an imbecile with that shower anytime.
I don’t suppose you made it down to the Ploughing Championships in Kilkenny? It wasn’t exactly the Galway races or the corporate box at Old Trafford, but the sun shone and there were plenty of takers for the €6 pints. I believe the strip club in town did a roaring trade all week, it’s good to know that all those EU grants are being put to good use.
Next up is the Budget next week, now that should be fun and there’s not much point in me looking around for help from my front bench on this one. At least you had Mary Harney to take some of the flack while you were off saving the world or entertaining the crowd up at the tribunals. What have I got? I’m saddled with Mary Coughlan, who’s quickly turning into Donegal’s answer to Sarah Palin.
I suppose if things get any worse I’ll have to look as if I’m doing something and have a reshuffle, but with the backbench looking as potent as a glass of watered down vodka, there’s not much point in looking therfe.
It’s hard to believe that it’s only three years since everyone was shouting about the country being “awash with cash.” Where did it all go? I haven’t a clue. It’s like waking up after a night out and finding your wallet empty and having no idea where the money went.
Anyway, when you get the chance I’d like to talk to you about the cutbacks. I’m afraid that freezing TD’s wages and scrapping a few junior ministers isn’t going to be enough this time. We’re going to have to do something a bit more drastic and I’m afraid that the Luas you’d planned to run past your house in Drumcondra is going to have to be postponed. I know yo said it would be handy for nipping out to the airport for the trips to Manchester United, but it will have to be the 41A bus for the foreseeable future. I’m not saying it will never be built, but you can take it that Ronaldo and Rooney will be long retired before it happens.
On a personal level, I was wondering if you could help one of the daughters out? She was reading one of Cecilia’s books, “PS I Want You”, I think it was called. She feels she could write something similar (“Anyone could write this crap” was the phrase she used ). I’m wondering if you could get someone to have a look at a little book she’s writing, we’d give you the usual commission, of course.
I seem to getting hang of this tpying. There’s another money saving idea, I could get rid of all the secretaries and get everyone to type their own letters, that should shut up the Joe Duffy crowd for a day or two.
Give us a call sometime.
All the bset,
Brain.
PS: Don't suppose you fancy your old job back
