We are now beyond irony.
We are on a plane of such weird Ireland’s Own-ness that it is difficult to breathe.
In Montrose today, Daithi O’ Se, hewn from a block of white Irish cheddar, met the 32 Roses competing for the greatest Lovely Girl competition of them all.
We’ve no money, we’re being drained of brains, Grainne’s going. This is what we have left. When people ask how much we hate ourselves, tell them: this much.