Diet that helps our Taoiseach look better than our Health Minister
,
I know that some of your brightest minions (those with Munster and farming backgrounds, for sure) will bring this to your attention, before the day is out.
As you will immediately observe, I send you exclusive tidings which feature extraordinary good news for a sorely pressed Health Minister, in a nation of stacked up trolleys in under-staffed hospitals.
That is not the end of it either.
By acting upon the information which my reliable sources have supplied to me, you can not only sharply improve the national health statistics, and empty all those trolleys, but you can also give a mighty boost to Irish farmers, especially sheep farmers.
And that, dear Minister, is the pure truth.
To begin, please look into the nearest mirror.
The stress lines around the eyes show that you have very visibly aged sharply, since being handed the poisonous chalice which is the Health portfolio.
By my count you are just 36 years of age but, especially recently, you look ten years older most of the time.
At the next Cabinet meeting, take an equally sharp look at your party leader and Taoiseach, Enda Kenny.
He is on the brink of being an old age pensioner, reaching 64 years last April but, dammit, the man currently looks younger and fresher than you do.
They tell me that he is now the Father of the House, being longer in the Dáil than anybody else, but he is surely a Peter Pan of a creature.
He gets younger looking every year. Is that not clearly the readily apparent truth, once more?
I can reveal the secret of your leader’s remarkable triumph over the ageing process, because I have several impeccable sources in his native Mayo, including one in the parish of Islandeady where Mr Kenny was born back in 1951.
He looks as well as he does because of his unique organic diet.
The Health Minister who begins to promote that diet will very quickly empty out all those overcrowded hospitals, and concurrently greatly boost the profits of our sheep farmers, especially in the West.
Our ageless Taoiseach dines on special Mayo mutton almost every evening.
This mutton is special because it comes from hardy mountain sheep from the region near the Killary fjord, around the longest named townland in Ireland, namely Muckinaghidirnadhataille.
In hard times, these special sheep actually go down on to the sea bed at low tide and stuff themselves with succulent young seaweeds, retreating reluctantly when the tide rolls in again.
Those seaweeds are rich in iodine and other nutrients, and the Taoiseach has a strong dinner of the resultant mutton, with spuds and vegetables, even when he represents us abroad.
And there is an additional garnish which is also carried with the mountain mutton on the State jets when he goes abroad.
The gravy, dear Minister, always has to be founded on holy Knock water, and there is a gallon or two of that on the plane on every flight. The pure truth, I swear.
Minister, you now possess all the information necessary to transform your portfolio.
Your scientists and health experts can surely come up quickly with some variant of Mr Kenny’s menu which, with proper promotion, will transform all the currently dire health statistics.
You will garner all the credit (you might remember Cormac’s guidance when that occurs), and if you are wise enough to adopt the regime yourself, there is just a faint chance that a younger and fresher Varadkar might one day fulfil his ambition to step into the shoes of the party leader.
It won’t happen any day soon, though. You can be sure of that.
Good luck in the meantime...
