Bertie Ahern
Sir[1] Patrick Bartholomew "Bertie" Ahern (born in Brazzaville,in the Republic of the Congo on 12 September 1951) is a pasty-faced Irish underwear model who hustled his way up the ranks of the Fee na Fóil party to become the country's Taoiseach (or "Tea Shock" in Inglish) from 1997 to 2008.
He now gives afterdinner speeches about his "legacy" and memoirs as a statesman for €20,000 per hour..."De de de de de other world leaders we w e w e we ..were impressed with me yella trousers that Cecilia got me in ...d.d...d...d dunnes stores" in September 2008.
Personal life[edit]
Mannerisms[edit]
Ahern is noted for his poor enunciation, his unfortunate tendency to stutter at incovenient moments (in tribunals), and his horrendously exaggerated North Dublin accent, which has caused some genuine North Dubliners to break out in spots and roll around having fits in the gutter.
Relayshunships[edit]
Bertie is, as can be imagined, quite the charmer, and his playboy lifestyle has led to media comparisons with Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Jim Corr, Gerry Ryan and other such hunks. Bertie would in true maverick fashion always spill the beans on the morning after in the Dóil, once going into such great detail about his exploits with his "fuck buddy" Sinead O'Connor that Fin nAg Whael leader Inda Kinny unceremoniously jizzed all over his own pants. From that day, all Dóil witnesses, politicians and general public alike, are legally required to wear condoms as long as they are in the building. Ahern has in fact long been believed by the public to have been a better candidate for the role of James Bond than fellow Irishman Pierce Brosnan. This led to a public stand-off between the two in 1998, with Ahern eventually backing down after Brosnan got John Cleese to stand up to Bertie for him. Years later, when Labour Party leader Fr. Dougal Maguire proposed Cleese for Taoiseach as Ahern's replacement, Bertie famously roared "JOHN FECKIN' CLEESE IS A GODFORSAKEN BULLY!" in the Dóil.
Taoiseach[edit]
Ahern was responsible for a number of innovative measures as leader of Fee na Fóil, such as the €55,55,2,22 million electronic voting project that didn't actually work due to, like, impossibility? Times infinity? And junk.
Sir Bert was a great man for writing the auld blank cheques for a previous corrupt auld bastard, Lord Charles Jameson Haughey, who stalked Irish politics in life and continues to haunt it in death, so when it was Bertie's time to shine, boy oh boy did he seize the spotlight! I mean squeeze the spotlight! Boy did he squeeze. Of course it was only fair that Bertie got a piece of the action, having been so loyal to Lord Haughey for most of the 1980s and 1990s. As a thank-you, old C. J. inaugurated the private Haughey family swimming pool as the "Bertie Bowel" (due to an administrative error), which incidentally remains Ireland's only Olympic standard pool. No wonder we have to pump half-Dutch bitches full of anabolic steroids in order to win anything.
A Belfast kiss[edit]
Bertie likes to talk about the The Good Friday agreement (it would have been the Easter Monday Treaty but Bertie wanted to go home to open his chocolate nest eggs) which was signed in 1998. He arranged a blind date in Belfast with British Prime Minister Tony Blair, red faced Unionists (flushed from shouting "No Potpourri" the night before), some fence sitters and men who wore balaclavas in bed and sang songs to the tune of an armalites reloading. Somehow they agreed that killing each other was bad for business and decide to decommission their guns by putting in plastic stoppers.
This at least ended a lot of pointless killing but also gave the money grubbers a chance to demolish a many picturesque British army checkpoints and remove street paintings of "No ! No!! No!!! No!!! Surrender" in loyalist areas. Also lost was a lot of the obscene Gaelic scribblings by Wolf "Wolfman" Tone Deaf - a famous 18th century Irish patriot (or rebel according to your prejudices) who died a failure but lives on as a hero - in souvenir shops.
So sectarianism was replaced with supermarkets with over priced coffee shops and Manchester United replica football shirt stalls. This was good news for Ireland and even better news for Bertie who now wanted to spend the peace dividend. So he took out an overdraft at the Anglo-Irish Bank.
From a Celtic Tiger to a Mangled Moggy[edit]
Adopting the Roll Over and Tickle My Tummy school of Free Market Capitalism - the Bertie Ahern government embarked on ambitious scheme to change Ireland's image from a rustic-rural-drunks "Land of Happy Paddy Tinkerland" into the Singapore of the West. When he said he wanted Ireland to the "Celtic Tigger" - Irish journalists first thought Bertie had been on the Winnie the Pooh honey too long - but this turned out to be misunderstanding. Inspired perhaps by growing up on "Frosties" breakfast cereal and the cartoon Tony the Tiger telling everyone that they were "GRRRRRRRRRRRRREAT!" - Bertie had a vision for Ireland and he was going to stick to it.
So for the next ten years it was BOOM BOOM BOOM time in Ireland. The opposition parties were arse wiped in the following elections and everyone thought Bertie had found all the answers. It was let your business friends get on making money, don't let the rich pay their taxes and make sure you retired from the office of Taoiseach before the proverbial hit the fan. In that strategy he was inspired by his old friend Tony Blair who was about to do the same in Britain.
Like Iceland - it turned out the Irish economy was built on a lot of unpaid credit cards, houses no one wanted to live in and that a band of spivs had siphoned off the gravy and were living as tax exiles in Monaco. Then the Irish banks discovered they had no money and went off to the Guinness Brewery to drown their sorrows - and each other - in the River Liffey.
In retirement Bertie broke his leg. Then the people of Galway hurled pitchforks and custard pies at him.
Footnotes[edit]
- ↑ Patrick Bartholomew was conferred with a knighthood for his Cunning and Deception by Sheila of Tara, Queen of the Fairies, in 2003.