The Heelers Diaries

the fantasy world of ireland's greatest living poet

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Location: Kilcullen (Phone 087 7790766), County Kildare, Ireland

Saturday, May 16, 2015

poem and parody


Trees
by Joyce Kilmer

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain,
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me
But only God can make a tree.


**************

Treesomes
by James Healy

Stephen hawking approached in mellow mood
With cries of "hey" and "whassup dude"
He bid me sit and listen hence
To his latest gems of intelligence
"We're genes and chemistry, that is all.
Richard Dawkins is on the ball.
He's pulled the plug, he's called God's bluff.
We're not spirits, we are stuff.
And consequently we're also free
To indulge in ceaseless pagan orgies."
He continued a while in manner crude
Before bidding me a merry: "See ya dude."
And I was left to contemplate
The wilful ignorance of the atheistic state.
Orgies are made by fools like Richard Dawkins
But only God can make a Stephen Hawking.

best old hal roach joke in history

This guy goes into the Boston Barbershop Company a newly established network of salons in Ireland.
He says: "One haircut please."
The barber says: "I'm sorry sir, we don't do haircuts here."
The guy says: "Okay give me a shave."
The barber tells him: "I'm sorry sir, we don't do shaves here."
And the guy says: "How about a hairwash?"
The barber replies: "We don't do hairwashes here either, sir."
The guy says: "Well what do you do?"
The barber answers: "We're fronting for the IRA."
And the guy says: "Oh."

poem and parody



First Fig
by Edna St Vincent Millay

My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes and oh, my friends -
It gives a lovely light.

*********

The Rah Man's Lament
by James Healy

my stick of dynamite burns at both ends 
it will not last the night
but i have infiltrated the irish trade union movement
and judiciary
and cops
and commercial and property sectors of the irish economy
and now parliament
so I do not give a shite

heelers debates concita gonzalez

"Concita, you don't have the power by the way you vote to make everyone who considers themselves attracted to people of the same sex happy. But you do have the power to make one person who considers themselves attracted to people of the same sex happy. You haven't phoned your sister in ten years, Get up off your fat arse and phone your sister. Light a f--king candle. Join the forces of good."
"Heelers the only reason you're against Gay Marriage is because you are a repressed homsexual. That's all there is to it."
Well well well bold readers.
The little Spanish okapi.
And I thought she was in love with me.

heelers debates his feminist cousin pauline

Ireland's greatest living poet ensconced with a scone in the Tearman Cafe.
My organic food store managing feminist cousin Pauline passes through the cafe on a mission involving Kumquats.
"You see James," she calls back, "I just don't understand why people of faith have to care what anyone else does."
My gentle preraphaelite features wizened a bit.
I was toying with saying: Maybe we should just deprive people of faith their right to say anything at all about anything, like those lovable progressive goons of Stalinism, Maoism, Hitlerism and Jihad have already done in the liberal paradises on earth that they have so successfully created.
But I didn't say it.
Instead I said: "Pauline, do you really want to discuss this with me?"
She smiled brightly.
"No," she said and disappeared.

heelers debates frau gruber

Tearman Cafe morning.
Frau Gruber golds into the cafe and sits opposite me.
"How are you voting James?" she demands.
"You know how I'm voting," I answer.
"You're voting yes."
"I'm voting no, you big Kraut."
"But, but why?"
"Because I don't honestly believe that any human being can find happiness in a sexual relationship with a person of the same gender. And I don't honestly believe that referring to same sex sexual relationships as marriage will make any human being in Ireland or on the planet even a tad happier."
Frau Gruber digested this briefly and then spent the next half hour exclaiming: "How do you know?" with great Teutonic verve and what can only be called righteous gusto.
It was amazing how many synonyms she had for: "How do you know?"
"How do you know? How can you know? How can you be sure of anything? Who knows? What is known about anything? What is known about anything that another person experiences as happiness? How can you be sure? What right have you to be sure? What right have you to know? If someone wants to do something what right have to tell them not to? If someone wants to do something how can you know they shouldn't?"
And so on.
The upshot of it seemed to be that she did not for a second believe I knew or had a right to know, anything about anything.
When she paused, I spoke softly.
"I didn't say I know," I told her, "I said, I think. This is my opinion. It's the best I can do. If for some reason you have already found opinions of mine to be worthy of respect, perhaps you should weight this one carefully. Otherwise, why worry?"
Ah yes folks.
The argomento ad James is a wise man.
It's surprising how unconvincing people find it.

heelers debates a leaflet

Sitting in the Tearman Cafe quaffing a coffee and struggling manfully with the battered sausage.
My eye falls on a brightly coloured leaflet urging Irish people to vote Yes in our forthcoming referendum on Same Sex marriage.
The referendum has come about because a political pseudo elite wishes to distract Irish people from the real issues affecting our country.
Instead of dealing with economic collapse, the rise of the mafias, and Jihadi immigration, our government has forced us to consider a purely frivolous campaign to deem Same Sex sexual relationships as marriages.
Someone has left the leaflet advocating this nonsense on my table.
The leaflet features a photo of a congenial looking fellow styling himself Pat Carey and proclaiming: "I think we are a more gentle and kind society. A Yes vote will help us along that road."
I quickly jot a few statistics beside Pat Carey's assertion about Ireland being more gentle and kind today than it was before.
I write on the leaflet: "There are 600 suicides in Ireland every year according to official figures. There are 600 deaths among drug addicts in Ireland every year. There are 100 known mob killings in Ireland every year. The IRA, and its associated mafias Al Qaeda, the Chinese Triads, the Nigerian gangstahs, Cosa Nostra and the new Eastern European thug gangs from Russia, Ukraine and the Baltics, have been dividing Ireland up into personal fiefdoms. How dare you suggest this Ireland is more gentle or kind than any that came before. How dare you Pat Carey."
This was vintage Heelers compassion.
Gentle Kind. But with a certain edge. And with a humble awareness that the present generation in Ireland is not entitled to stand in judgement on those who came before.
The Fine Gaelers would throw a tin of lubricant at Pat Carey and tell him: "Yeah sure, call that a marriage."
I'd be trying to help him be a better person by honestly responding to what he is saying.
I turned over the leaflet.
The far side consisted of a number of bullet points advocating a Yes vote in the referendum.
I wrote my humble replies to each assertion.
Below you see Pat Carey's leaflet assertions in red and my jotted replies after each one.

First Pat Carey asserted: "This referendum is about real people and real families. It's about people that we know; our family members, friends, neighbours and colleagues."
I wrote in answer: "No. This referendum is about distracting Ireland from the utter incompetence and corruption of Fine Gael in government. There was no broad public demand for it. Fine Gael sprang this on the country to distract from Fine Gael's imminent demise as a political party. I would suggest that the referendum is also about caving in to the lobbying power of American billionaire IRA financier Chuck Feeny who has sponsored the creation in Ireland of self styled advocacy groups promoting the notion of Same Sex Marriage. I ask you. Imagine letting a bunch of bigoted, knee capping, drug dealing, people trafficking, clapped out marxian c--ts tell us what marriage is, Chuckie R Law indeed."
Pat Carey's next point read: "Irish people are fair minded, welcoming and confident. Voting Yes will ensure that everyone in our families is protected by the Constitution."
I wrote in reply: "Just like in Thailand, that other anti Catholic bastion of Children's Rights where compulsory Same Sex activity is considered a necessary stage of development for quick promotion within the family brothel business."
Pat Carey's leaflet continued: "Voting Yes will take from no one. Allowing lesbian and gay couples to marry will not affect any other marriage or family."
I wrote under that: "It will define as marriage something that isn't marriage."
Pat Carey next argued: "While civil partnership has provided much needed recognition for lesbian and gay couples, it falls short of full constitutional equality. Having a separate and lesser institution sends a clear message that lesbian and gay people are not equally valued."
I answered: "The message it sends is that marriage is a life long relationship between a man and a woman."
Pat Carey then stated: "This referendum relates to civil marriage in a registry office, not religious marriage. Churches cannot be forced to marry anyone and will not be affected in any way."
I countered by referring to recent newspaper stories: "Churches will be forced to do the ceremonies just as bakeries are already being forced to bake the cakes."
Pat Carey added: "A Yes vote stengthens marriage, protects eveyone in all our families. A Yes vote is a vote for family values."
I answered: "IRA family values. F--k me pink."


in time of the breaking of nations

Political Prediction

The corrupt cosmically incompetent Fine Gael political party will be wiped out at the next Irish election. Sinn Fein (the party of the IRA mafia) will take power. These are dark days for Ireland. Between Fine Gael and Sinn Fein IRA, I don't honestly know which is worse. Which would you prefer? Party boys who believe in nothing? Or Murderers who at least believe in their right to murder and enslave Ireland? And tell me. Which is which?

the crunch question


Question: Why is Ireland's Fine Gael, Labour Party government so eager to relabel same sex sexual activity as marriage? Is it because Fine Gael is a caring compassionate group of people who wish to show their love for those consider themselves attracted to people of the same sex?

Answer: No. It's because Fine Gael much prefers discussing how compassionate it is than discussing its own corruption and incompetence vis a vis the break down of law and order in Ireland and the rise of the IRA as a nationwide drug dealing people trafficking mafia.

lies damned lies and the irish times

The Irish Times has published a front page headine implying that 70 percent of the Irish people will vote in favour of same sex marriage.
Closer scrutiny of the Irish Times article reveals that the actual figure contained in their opinion poll (jerrymandered upwards anyway I assure you) shows only five out of ten people questioned said they intended to vote for same sex marriage.
Five out of ten.
Not seven out of ten.
The seven out of ten lie was justified by ye olde accountancy trick of excluding from the figures those who had called themselves undecided.
Bear in mind that over the past two decades Irish Times opinion polls advocating abortion always falsely claimed that the majority of Irish people would vote for abortion.
We never did.
At national referendums, the Irish people twice demonstrated the malicious mendaciousness of the Irish Times and its opinion polls by voting to reject abotion.
Of course the abortion of unborn children has this year been legalised in Ireland by the Fine Gael political party without consulting the people through a referendum.
Apparently referendums are now the preserve of those advocating the radical redefinition of marriage.
And of course Fine Gael had expressly promised prior to election not to legalise abortion.
They hadn't even mentioned same sex marriage.
The present Irish Times polls advocating same sex marriage are false too.
As false as a Fine Gaeler promise.
And their headlines are beyond false.
It is time to take out the trash, ie to stop Fine Gael subsidising the Irish Times with my money.

an open letter to american billionaire ira supporter chuck feeney

Ooh Ahhh Up The Same Sex Marriage


Dear Chuck.
It has been brought to my attention that you have been funding the mafioso people trafficking drug dealing IRA as welll as an associated campaign to promote same sex marriage in Ireland.
Please stop doing both of these things.
We Irish can sort out our own problems.
Thank you for your time.
James Healy

skangland

(The following article has been rejected for publication by the Bridge magazine apparently on the grounds that a Rah man might be somebody's mother.)


SKANGLAND... WHY IS KILCULLEN SHUTTERED
(James Healy asks the question and answers it.)

Why are businesses on Main Street finding it so difficult to trade in the present time? The question arose during a recent discussion at the village forum in the Tearman Cafe, and it seemed the almighty recession was to be held responsible for everything.
Ah yes, the recession.
The recession is to blame for all things.
To me this sort of fatalism is tantamount to saying: "Things are the way they are and there's nothing anyone can do to change them." Incidentally, there was also a significant body of opinion in the cafe inclined to lay the blame for closed Kilcullen businesses on nearby hyper market style retailers in the towns of Naas and Newbridge.
I've never really accepted the notion that the large scale out of town supermarkets are driving small business people to the wall. I tend to believe that the rising tide of employment and choice presented by such outlets should be to the benefit of all. With more people coming in to the region to shop at the hyper marts, there should be more overspill of trade onto Main Street.
No.
Something else is killing our businesses.
Five something else's actually.
First the sons and daughters of small traders on Main Street often do not wish to carry on the family business. The aspirations of the younger generation mean that we lose the expertise the family may have built up over a generation as Junior and Junioress seek life's pot of gold through the subsidised dating academies that pass for universities in Ireland. Business after business on Main Street has closed simply because the young uns could not see themselves as shopkeepers.
Secondly the thug element in Kilcullen are now a significant factor in the life of anyone who dares to set up their own business. By the thug element I mean the usual suspects who have terrorised the town for the past forty years. They too are key players in closing down our traders. And yet still people continue to look the other way and murmur: "Oh but they never had a chance." The truth is they've had forty years of a chance. Truly we are a beaten people.
Thirdly, aside from the thug element, more organised crime groupings are now present in Kilcullen, and extort money from traders here. No one wants these characters in their lives. Traders walk away because of the regular threats, robberies and attempts at extortion. Note that I treat the organised crime groupings as separate from the thug element although both are interactive with each other. Within the past decade we can see clear evidence of organised crime shutting down businesses in our town. A few years ago, one trader in Kilcullen beat off an attack by a knife wielding raider on his premises. The gang brought in three hit men from Dublin to deliberately let the trader catch them in the act of breaking into his shop. They stabbed the trader as planned and weren't too worried whether he lived or died. He sold up and left Kilcullen. Another respected Kilcullen resident was forced to move out of town after repeated break-ins by supposed traveller gangs. There have been more of these cases but they don't get reported.
Fourthly, any trader who wishes to run his own business on Main Street, must face up to the fact that our government acts as if it is trying to drive him out of business. Taxation is high. The trader is forced to collect tax on behalf of the government in the form of VAT. The trader can be casually criminalised by the revenue service if there is an anomaly in his tax returns. Again this sort of draconian taxation culture plays a key role in shuttering our Main Street.


Fifthly, rents are too high and it is difficult for a would be trader to obtain ownership of a street front property. We should put families who are keen to work in all these properties. The resurgent landlordism of the present era is not worth the shutters it's printed on.
Okay folks. Those are my opinions. After all of those factors are considered, we might begin to look at laying some responsibility for our shuttered Main Street at the door of the out of town supermarkets. But honestly, if we found people who wanted to work on Main Street, and let them do so, and stopped our government from mugging them continuously for tax, and saw off the thugs, and shut down the mafias, really, the competition from large scale retailers would no longer be a problem.
Our Main Street would light up with prosperity, jobs and fulfilled lives. I think it's worth doing.

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

confessions of a reformed egomaniac


Thurs 2nd April 2015: Wandered into the Riverbank theatre cafe in Newbridge. Dark haired Latvian waitress seemed to be smiling at me an awful lot. This can mean one of two things. Either she's a friendly waitress. Or she wants me, Beavis. Presently I ask her her name. "Santa," she replies. Ah yes. Not quite the exotic turn on I'd expected. Apparently it's Spanish for holy. But not now or ever is Santa going to be among my favourite girl's names. Her parents have saved me and the sensual sexual Santa a lot of trouble by giving her that name. I'm not even going to try. I mean with the Paddies about to legalise same sex marriage, there is absolutely no way I could marry someone called Santa. How could you even begin to romance a girl with that name? I can't imagine saying such staples of romantic verbiage to her as: "Oh Santa I think I'm developing feelings for you," or "Santa you are the one for me," or "Take me Santa, I'm yours," or even "Santa I love you." Backwards boggles the mind, as we do say in the trade. Anyway if lightning struck and I did marry the smiling Santa, I know lots of people who would deliberately get the wrong end of the stick (Ooh er Missus) and say things like: "The moment they legalised gay marriage, Heelers ran straight out and married Father Christmas."

Monday 13th April: Meeting in Parish Centre to discuss God topics et al. There was a mention of British actor Stephen Fry's recent assertion in an interview with an Irish broadcaster styled Gay Byrne that God does not exist. What's bothering me is whether we can actually prove Stephen Fry exists. I know that people claim to have seen him in old episodes of Jeeves And Wooster but are those people credible? Was there ever such a series? If there was such a series it was made long after the original Jeeves And Wooster books were written. There's no way the original writer PG Wodehouse contributed to the BBC series. So how do we know it remained faithful to the original, And how can we be sure Stephen Fry was really so strong an advocate for the Same Sex relalationships movement? Maybe in real life he was married to Mary Magdalen but the BBC covered it up in order to market a completely different lifestyle. Who can actually prove otherwise? It's all such a long time ago. How can we be sure that the actor in Jeeves And Wooster was really Stephen Fry? There are those who think it was John Cleese who was a much funnier actor anyway and in those days much more famous but for some strange reason seems to have been overshadowed by Stephen Fry. Can you see my basic point that Jeeves And Wooster was filmed long after the Jeeves And Wooster books were written so it's probably not even an accurate portrayal of Jeeves And Wooster even if Stephen Fry is really in it? Then there's talk of Stephen Fry's successful stage career. But have any of us really seen him in anything? I mean live before our eyes? Alright, I accept that the Irish broadcaster Gay Byrne probably exists. There is so much evil in the universe that I admit there has to be a Gay Byrne. But a Stephen Fry? I'm not so sure. 



Thurs 16th April: Riverbank cafe again. That waitress could smile for Ireland. As she handed me a latte, in the strange glamorous half light of the cafe's evening clamour, I saw no shadow of another parting.

Friday 17th April: Spent this morning driving around the housing estates looking for a neighbour's lost dog. I wind down the window to address a woman. "I'm looking for a lost dog?" quoth me. "Is it the one on Brian Byrne's blog?" answereth she. With a snarl I drive on. Trapman! Curse him. How he hath conquered.

Tues 21 April: Back to the riverbank. Santa still smiling. If I know anything about women, that there is an inviting smile. She approaches.I'm genuinely quizzicle. What is she at? "Are you doctor Healy's brother?" she enquires eyes glowing. The jigsaw slips into place. This is like a red rag to a bullsh-tt-r.  "The question should be: Is Doctor Healy my brother," I tell her coldly. "Do you think people went around asking George Best if he was Doctor Best's brother? I'm James Healy. I'm Ireland's greatest living poet. I mean I wrote The Wakening Silence for crying out loud. You people make me sick." Well folks, I'm definitely not  marrying her now.

Thurs 23 April: Chanced one last visit to the Riverbank. Santa smiling much less. As she handed me a latte in the strange glamorous half light of the cafe's evening clamour, I sensed no shadow of a snowball's chance in hell with her.

Fri 24 April: Newspapers full of fawning stories about the 25th anniversary of the launch of the Hubble Space Telescope. The emperor's new telescope if you ask me. A big computer in space that photoshops nice imaginary images of supposed star systems based  on electronic emissions it measures in the sky. Not real photos you understand. Photoshopped images. And Nasa spent all its billions on this over the past quarter century and neglected to build any new space shuttles, the space shuttle being the one invention that actually inspired people, the one invention that might have opened up space travel, the one invention that might have led to the colonisation of the moon and beyond. Seriously though. Instead all the money went on an ephin telescope. This is why Nasa now regularly claims it thinks something it photographed on Mars might be life, or might be water, or might be an alien swigging a glass of water. Because they're so mortified at having no space shuttles. Yes. They're so mortified at having blown a twenty five year multi billion dollar budget on a toy that does nothing except produce images that have been pre programmed into it. I wonder what Santa would say about it all.

Sat 25 April: A new day, a new cafe. The Costa in the Tesco Centre. Lissom waitress smiling at me with a hint of eastern promise. With my luck her name will probably be Lord Palmerston. Ah Lord Palmerston. What a cracking bird you are. Phwoarrr. You know folks, Lord Palmerston is probably a very feminine name down Lithuania way. I wouldn't put anything past the Little Uanians. Ho, ho, ho.

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

a little light relief

Afternoon in the heartland of South Kildare.
The May month is flapping its glad green leaves like wings.
I wander into the health food shop run on progressive principles by my feminist cousin Pauline.
Progressive in the sense that they still serve me.
Arf arf.
The feminist cousin is lurking behind the the cash desk with something white glowing on her lapel.
Heavens.
I hope it's not a Seamus Heaney poem.
That thing might go off.
And lo!
It is not a Seamus Heaney poem.
She was handing out Seamus Heaney poems yesterday for national poetry day but today the air is clear.
Closer inspection reveals that what is stuck to Pauline's lapel is a sticker bearing the word "Ta."
My instincts tell me this is not indicative of the English colloquialism "ta very much," meaning thank you.
Presumably this is an Irish language affirmative which we use on stickers to inform the public that we advocate a yes vote in forthcoming referendums.
My heart swells with pride and solidarity.
"Why Pauline!" I exclaim. "I never knew you felt so strongly about the minimum age of Presidential candidates in Ireland being lowered from 35 to 21. At last an issue where I can applaud your viewpoint because I genuinely don't give a hoot."
Her look spoke volumes.
I realised my mistake.
"Oh," I corrected. "You're not advocating yes in the Presidential Candidates Minimum Age referendum. You're advocating yes in the other referendum, the Same Sex Marriage referendum. Ah. My mistake."
Well folks.
Welcome to Ireland.
There are many possible motives for the Irish government's sense of timing with these referendums.
They might be trying to distract attention from their legalisation of the killing of unborn children following their specific promise prior to the last election not to legalise the killing of unborn children.
They might be trying to distract attention from their payment of 200,000 dollar salaries to their civil service advisers having promised true to form prior to the last election not to pay advisers more than 90,000.
They might be trying to distract attention from their mismanagement of the economy.
They might be trying to distract attention from their failure to jail gangster bankers.
They might be trying to distract attention from the presence of drug gangs projecting fear and intimidation, poison, rape and murder into every town and village and school in Ireland.
They might be trying to distract attention from their own failure to  reform Ireland's endemically individually and institutionally corrupt police force, and their appointment instead of a weak wimminy insider as Chief of Police having first of course  prior to election promised to appoint an officer from outside the force as Chief, and then the gross incompetence of this newly appointed police chief in saying last week "I'm not sure if the IRA still exists or not," you have to imagine her saying it in Penelope Pitstop's voice to appreciate the sheer malevolence of her confusion, (I'm telling you Bitch, they still exist) and this same Police Chief's novel solution to corruption in moving corrupt Superintendants sideways to new precincts as if moving them to a new office five miles up the road from their old office will stop them picking up the phone to dial their IRA Drug Gang handlers, hilarious, no.
They might be trying to distract attention from their failure to take action against White Collar criminal Denis O'Brien who was deemed by a Judicial Enquiry to have founded his billion dollar fortune by bribing then Fine Gael Minister Michael Lowry in order to receive control of State mobile phone licences, and who has since been allowed by Fine Gael to assume overall control of the media group styled Indpendent Newspapers, a media group whose half billion dollar debt to Allied Irish Bank was cancelled when Fine Gael purchased Allied Irish Bank on behalf fo the nation. I kid you not.
They might be trying to distract attention from the complicity of a Fine Gael politican John McCartin in helping IRA proxy Sean Quinn regain control of the proxy companies Sean Quinn had allowed the IRA to use as shell vehicles for the burglarisation of Anglo Irish Bank (note that this is not Allied Irish) the bank with the largest losses of any bank on the planet earth in 2008, losses incurred as IRA agents on the bank's board gave billion dollar loans to IRA agents outside the bank including Sean Quinn and their proxy companies, which loans were then laundered by the Russian Mafia into Russia and elsewhere, while a corrupt, now coveniently deceased Fianna Fail (note not Fine Gael) government Minister called Brian Lenihan spent Ireland into the Third World overnight in order to facilitate the concealment of the IRA's nation busting bank job at Anglo Irish Bank, which concealment was further facilitated by former Fine Gael chief Alan Dukes who accepted the chairmanship of Anglo Irish Bank from Fianna Fail in the aftermath of Brian Lenihan's looting of the treasury in order to give Brian Lenihan's looting of the treasury a veneer of cross party non partisanship, all of this perfidy having been continued and extended under the present Fine Gael government through the policy of throwing good money after bad from public coffers in the direction of the now defunct IRA shell proxy styled Anglo Irish Bank. I mean I don't want to go casting no aspoyshuns.
They might be trying to distract attention from their failure to progress the pattycake trial of IRA proxy (ie mob banker) Sean Fitzpatrick which seems to be in limbo due to the propensity of various individuals connected to the trial to phone in sick and the propensity of various Judge Liberals to warn internet commentators not to tell anyone what is going on.
(Judge Rahmen surely? - Ed note)
(I f--ken suppose so. - Heelers note)
They might be trying to distract attention from their failure to jail gangsters generally and the rise of the IRA as a nationwide international mafia dividing Ireland into personal fiefdoms with its allied people trafficking drug dealing psycho murderers in Al Qaeda, Cosa Nostra, the Russian mob, the Chinese Triads et al. (Particularly Al, I hate him,)
Ah yes gentle travellers of the internet.
Fine Gael and Labour might be trying to do any of this.
But I dare to suggest that the Fine Gael Labour Party government has held the referendum on Same Sex Marriage and the referendum on the Minimum Age for Presidential Candidates, at the one time, held em both together I say, just to p--- me off.
It's working.