Where is Michael Martin? When was the last time you heard him on your radio? What is Brian Cowen’s day filled up with at all? I haven’t heard much about him since Ms73man saw him wailing Boolavogue at the top of his lungs in Doheney and Nesbitt’s. I’ll tell you where these, and many other, FFers are right now in early 2008: they’re in the long grass. Stalking their party leader and listening to uber-plonker Tony Killeen thinking that he’s being loyal by staying silent when asked questions on the radio. Tony, you are there to keep an eye on Gormley now answer the question.
Michael and Brian are waiting for the foot to go further into Bertie’s mouth so that they can come out at the right time and explain to a dreadfully bored public how a change is for the better. Within two weeks of this, he’ll be gone, will Bertie and all the nonsense about loans, digouts and Manchester carry on will seem somehow more urgent. More to the point, all of this talk what the Tribunal is costing is a herring of a distinctly red colour. FF set it up, liked the way it stalked others and have done sweet fcuk all to curb the costs of the boys and girls at the bar. It’s a bit like the Metro planned for Dublin: it doesn’t matter how much it costs, it is a good thing. It is worth the money and then some. Whatever it finds out can only be a good thing from now on and nothing monetary can ever put a value on that thing.