Brendan O'Connor: 'In Ireland, we're now so glued to the soap opera of Brexit'
"It's hard to know how much more Mrs May can be humiliated at this point."
Lip-reading experts have released the full text of the conversation between Theresa May and Jean-Claude Juncker: "Oi! Juncker! Did you call me nebulous? You can call me a robot, you can call me a bad dancer. But you do not call me nebulous!"
"Madame, of course not. And if I did I was obviously drunk and have no memory of it. I'm actually in a black-out right now. I'll have no memory of this tomorrow. Now give us a kiss and let me flick your hair."
"Juncker you did. You said I was nebulous. And worse again, it was reported. And all the people who voted for Brexit have looked up nebulous and they kind of vaguely know what it means now."
In Ireland, we are now so glued to the soap opera of Brexit that we are not even finding the energy to get worked up about all the things we traditionally get worked up about.
When poor Fianna Fail announced that they were staying in the Confidence and Supply agreement we barely raised an eyebrow, apart from a few people who needed to be reminded who Fianna Fail are and what a Confidence and Supply is.
It's hard to know how much more Mrs May can be humiliated at this point. The last-minute pulling of the meaningful vote was embarrassing enough, but the outcome of the no-confidence vote was somehow even more embarrassing, even though she won it.
The fact that the British parliament and gatherings of Tory MPs are conducted along the lines of a bad student debating society doesn't help the general mortification.
Such was our enjoyment of it all that we forgot to get outraged about the latest misadventures of Donald Trump.
What kind of world are we living in where the president of America's former lawyer can say that the pres made him give pay-offs to strippers whom he slept with, and we are more interested in a female version of John Major humiliating herself in front of European leaders by rushing around telling them all she needs something, but she can't quite say what?
European leaders were lined up in front of her, pretty much saying to each other: "What is she trying to say? What does she want? Do you know what she's on about? Me neither. WHAT IS IT YOU WANT, DEAR? ARE YOU OK? HAVE YOU ANY FAMILY MEMBER WHO COULD COME AND GET YOU? OR SOMEONE WHO KNOWS WHERE YOU LIVE?"
And here we are, the only people in the world who are more outraged about Donald Trump than the NY and California liberals, and we're not remotely up in arms about him. We're not even fervently discussing the meaning of Melania going blonde (growing a new wig for Donald is a popular theory). It's all too much.
Pass the nebuliser.