Your Local Representative

In Ireland we have a special calibre of locally elected representative.

They will ‘get’ you your planning permission, medical card, farm grant, hedges cut and whatever else ails you.

‘Get’ is an Irish euphemism for ‘use every corrupt practice know to man and beast’.

In part, it is what has the country in the shit heap it is currently in.

In some parts this is known as ‘stroke politics’.

This, I think, comes from the local politicians ability to ‘pull a stroke’ for you but I might be wrong and might be because they are all wankers.

Anyhow, they invariably have an appalling comb over dripping in hair oil to give the impression of virile youth.

Think Silvio Berlusconi but with a smell of cow shit, Guinness, fried rashers and Tayto crisps.

The authentic re-creation in the picture is my son (6 months old) with some seaweed as a hair piece.

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