I can’t really understand why everyone gets so uptight when talking about Donald Trump.
Certainly, he snarls a lot, and has a habit of threatening fire and damnation on almost everyone he encounters. Sure, didn’t my hero, Bull McCabe, do the same? And we took him (Bull) to our hearts like nobody else. Let no man speak ill of the Bull.
So let there be an easing off on Trump too, for he’s not half as bizarre a creature as people make him out to be.
In spite of the Irish Examiner/ICMSA survey, which indicated that most farmers would be about as welcoming of Trump to our shores as they would a case of foot and mouth, I’d certainly welcome the man.
I’d put out the hand, for I feel there could be great benefits attached to a visit by President Trump to Ireland.
For starters, just think for a moment of what would happen if he was to drop his wallet while parading around the old country, and you or I were to find it.
And better again, what if Trump himself was to say, “You keep it, buddy,” when we handed it back.
That wallet, my friend, probably contains more Yankee dollars than the Bank of America. We’d be on the pig’s back entirely for the rest of our lives. Our troubles would be few, our happiness unquantifiable.
I’m telling you, a visit by Trump could be the makings of us.
Better again, unlike other presidents of America who came to Ireland and drank the place dry of Smithwicks, Guinness and Harp, Trump doesn’t touch a drop.
He hates the stuff.
So a visit by Trump would be as cheap as chips.
All he’d need would be a glass of Miwadi and a bag of Tayto.
So there you’d have himself, the greatest man in the world, and he sitting down in some shebeen across from yourself or even myself, and we’d be able at last, to ask him how he combs that wonderful mane of his.
For that, my friend, is the greatest mystery of all.
His marvellous plumage defies the laws of gravity and nature.
He must be the devil entirely for handling a brush, for he is able to contort his hair into a most wondrous position. He deserves a Nobel Prize of some calibre for his hair. It’s outstanding.
And if, like me, you are losing ribs of hair on top at an alarming rate, and are wondering how to cover the barren patch, who better than Trump to divulge the secret of his success.
We’d be hairy as a Bee Gee in no time at all.
And speaking of going against the grain, best of all, Donald Trump hates wind turbines. He thinks they are big ugly lugs of things.
And how many Irish politicians agree with him on this point? Plenty. And how many will freely admit to hating the monsters? Precious few.
In fairness to Trump (and you won’t find me writing that too often), while many might disagree with what he says, at least he has the balls to say what he thinks.
He’d level every turbine in Ireland with a JCB given half a chance, and I’d let him at it too, if it took Trump three weeks or 20 years.
He’d come with all guns blazing, as he usually does.
So that is why I’d welcome Trump to Ireland with open arms, for between his pocket, his hair and his JCB, he’d give this country of ours a badly needed overhaul from top to toe.