The ploughing championships. I should’ve outlawed them. I’ve never been through such torture with boggers. People stood around taking photos of me holding a plough. I had to smile and laugh and hide the pain of physical labour. The biggest thing my hands are used to being wrapped around is…probably my iPhone. I’ve been putting Vaseline on all week but my lips are still red raw and chapped from kissing babies for nine hours solid. Nothing I do makes any difference. The tea tree oil I use for my heavenly hair- useless. And somehow still not attractive to the ladies themselves, even with that beautiful scent.
Gerry up the RA-ddams came up to me in the corridor during the week.
“What in the naym of Éire happened yer fayce, Enda?”
“Kissing babies is a messy business Gerry,” I go, in my most official Taoishmuckly voice.
“Makes a nice change frum kissin’ arses,” says Gerry.
“Sticks and stones may break my bones,” I said, and swept my hands through my hair and walked off. (But the words just go on hurting, I thought).
I finally got the chance to go tie shopping today. I was running low. Thankfully the children of Lough Shmuckno National School were well up to the task of furnishing me with all the ties I need coming up to the budget. Their tiny hands are capable of much smaller seams than anything Louis Copeland have ever done. The teachers were delighted. Apparently it used up all the art hours they are required to fill for the year. And all I had to do was cut their funding for them to invite me down. We had an apple tart in the staff room. Nomnomnom. A good day. I love apple tart. These children have a bright future in the tie industry. My jobs creation plan is flawless. Forget Apple. We don’t need them anyway. Let’s get Ireland working…for me. And apple tart.
Ah here. I can’t deal with this today. IMMA should be renamed. To IMMA LOAD OF SHITE. McNulty is out of the picture for now. But I am very sorry for everything I did, even though it was really Heather Humphrey’s fault. I will still apologise. But blame her. Sorry Heather, you do not have long for this (political) world. Arts and culture minister was never much of a job opportunity anyway.
Gerry up the RA-ddams is an idiot for tweeting all those photos of his rubber ducks. But I do think that my Count von Count action figure has been instrumental in getting me to where I am today. He is still in the wrapping on the mantelpiece, looking extremely wise and knowledgeable about numbers and budgetary analysis. I don’t believe in Jesus, because what sort of a Taoishmuck would, but sometimes when I’m in a pickle I think, what would Count von Count do? Usually it is very helpful. I forgot my notes for a speech over in Chicago so I borrowed Count von Count’s opening. “Greetings, it is I, the Taoishmuck. They call me the Taoishmuck because I love to Taoishmuck things.”
Count von Count fact of the day. His favourite number is 8 because “You can hold it this way you can hold it that way but it is still eight”. It is just like the hard copy of the budget. You can hold it this way you can hold it that way but it is still a monumental fuck up.
Somebody came up to me today and asked was I that guy who played Professor Calahan in Legally Blonde and that other douche that built the Titanic in that film, the Titanic. No, I am not. I need to get my face on the news more. I am going to ask Eileen Doyle what she can do for me. They haven’t done any environmental shots of me on my bike in a while. Maybe I should do another charity cycle. My cycle shorts are very slimming, though my helmet makes my head look larger than it already is and flattens my hair, which is sad. But maybe with the water charges I can raise awareness for people that can’t afford baths. I will cycle along the seafront, my hair flowing in the breeze, my calves pumping iron, and the view of the water in the background will remind all of us how difficult it is for the middle classes. I know I forget quite frequently. Thank God people like me exist to make things better for them.
Fionnuala, the wife and/or love of my life, thinks I have been working too hard.
“We’ve only been back from summer recess for four weeks Fionnuala,” I go.
“Exactly,” she says to me. “You’ve actually only been back three weeks, but it feels like longer because of how much you’ve been whinging about it.”
Fionnuala can be very harsh sometimes. We have actually been back for three and a half weeks so I just rounded the figure up, as Count Von Count taught me. She is the one who wears the trousers in this relationship. I just wear the cycle shorts.