My Week: John Halligan
Published 07/08/2016 | 02:30
MONDAY: What's that? Some politician has been arrested three times for being the worse for wear at a music festival in Cork over the weekend? What an eejit.
Just when the Dail's broken up too and all the papers are desperate for something to write about. You'll not catch me putting my head on the chopping block like that.
True, there was that time when I was just appointed a junior minister and said we should abolish the smoking ban, but I was young and foolish back then in May, I learned from my mistake. Yer man must be off his rocker.
TUESDAY: The mystery boozer is revealed to be someone going by the name of James Heffernan.
Who the heck's that? They said he was in politics. This Heffernan lad was in the Seanad. If that makes you a real politician, then scribbling a sketch of someone's meat and two veg on the toilet wall is the same as being an artist.
Bugger this, I have more important things to think about anyway. I did an interview with Hot Press a few weeks back and they tell me it's going out this week.
I still say it's a great honour to have been asked. "Come along and do an interview, John," they said, "you have such a fresh, original take on world events."
They didn't put it like that, of course. They actually said would I give them an hour of me time because everyone else had said no and, if I made a complete tool of myself, it'd give their dying rag some much-needed publicity. But I knew what they meant.
I agreed instantly. What could go wrong? Just because I look like a long lost member of the Chuckle Brothers doesn't mean that I don't have important things to say.
WEDNESDAY: The papers are full of snippets from the interview. Me phone's hopping. "Did I really say the pro lifers were like Isil?" they want to know. Too right I did. Those bastards had it coming. Yes, I know they don't blow themselves up or chop people's heads off for disagreeing with them, but didn't people on Facebook and Twitter call me names after I voted for Mick Wallace's abortion bill? That's basically the same.
And yes, I did talk about religion too. Why shouldn't I? God definitely doesn't exist. I know this for a fact. A fact, I tell ya. Because if there's a big fella with a beard up there in the sky looking after everything, then why do bad things keep happening, eh? Got you there, didn't I?
I'm amazed the theologians haven't thought of this before. All those clever eggheads like St Augustine and Thomas Aquinas and Fr Brian D'Arcy.
I know rightly they've written big books about it, and go on about free will and all that malarkey, but I haven't got time to be reading them when there's aliens to be looking for.
Yes, I said aliens. What's wrong with everyone? Can't a minister believe in little green men now without having the mickey taken out of him?
Lots of rational and intelligent people believe in aliens. There's me, for instance, and David Icke, and that woman who's married to the former Japanese PM who says she's been abducted by them.
She also said she'd been to Venus and had met Tom Cruise in a previous life, so I'm in good company alright.
The sex talk also seems to be causing a fuss, but who isn't curious about when their TDs lost their virginity? Forget economic policy. What the people want to know is when their elected representatives popped their cherries.
That, and whether they're still at it. I am. I have a very healthy sex life. Four, five, six times a day - that's no bother to me at all. Sure, I have the missus tormented. But what about the fellas who aren't as full of beans as me? What are they supposed to do?
That's why I say prostitution's a good idea, as long as the girls are willing and well looked after and paid a decent going rate, because obviously other lads can't be expected to get it for free when they're not as good looking as me.
Now the moaners are complaining about that too. I don't know what's wrong with this country. Must be all the God botherers getting their chastity belts in a twist again.
THURSDAY: Some famous fella called Orlando Bloom's all over Twitter, posing naked on a canoe with Katy Perry. Mother Nature has been very kind to him, if you know what I mean, and I find myself welling up with emotion.
I've said it before, it's all well and good for those of us who are God's gift to women, but it's the ugly auld ones who can't get some action for love nor money who need help, and begad I'll not let them down. When RTE rings up for an interview, I don't hesitate.
It doesn't go well when the presenter takes a call from another guest who's against prostitution because she works with women who do it for a living and they all hate it or something. It's a question of freedom, why can't they see that? Everyone should be free to have lots of sex. While smoking.
FRIDAY: I bump into Simon Coveney. "You must be delighted to have my backing as next Fine Gael leader," says I.
He doesn't answer, but Leo Varadkar is grinning from ear to ear.
I don't get it. The Taoiseach went to a summer school in Donegal a few weeks ago and practically promised to get the Four Green Fields back together, but I'm the one who's embarrassing the Government?
I've learned one thing, though. When people say they want politicians who speak their minds, trust me, they really, really don't. *As imagined by Eilis O'Hanlon