Old Sod's Big Book of New Irish Comedy
Listen here to me. I’m telling you now that there’s one thing the Irish people will never trust in a man - and that’s honesty!
You can take it from me that any man in politics not looking after his pals and not slipping jobs to his relatives and not grabbing the loot while he has the chance, is always up to no good. Even if he tries to keep his sincerity a secret, the people will soon get the whiff of integrity off him and from then on they’ll be watching him like hawks, following his every move, spying on him from behind the curtains, eyeing him through the hinges of a gate or peeping at him from the boreen as he locks up his house at night.
I’m in this game too long now not to know that “honesty” is a dirty word and if you don’t believe me listen to the common man. Ask a grassroot! Go West to the strong men of Mayo. Go North to the hardy men of Donegal. Go South to the cute men of Kerry or East to big men of Wicklow. Go to the fairs. Go to the cattle marts. Go to the eating-houses. The real men of Ireland will tell what’s what – with or without a mouthful of cabbage. It’s in their bones. It’s an instinct just like it is with the old tally-man who knows right down to the last semi-tone what way the transfers will go on the night just by listening to the trumpet blast from the heifer’s arse. They won’t teach you that in university! Oh ho, no...
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