– Good timing lad. What’s the craic?
– Don’t you ‘well what’s the craic’ me! Ye’s have gone and done it now ye’s mad shower a’ bastids.
– What?
– Signed in the Orangeman. I was sure one decent sniper would step up to finish the job properly before this.
– Ha! See ye! Drill Baby Drill all night long!
– The lunatics have officially taken over the asylum.
– The dems blew it lad.
– Yeah. But com’ere, I was fond a’ Joe so I was. Now look at him. Heading home to Scranton in a Greyhound. To sign for benefits.
– I’d be signing up for a nursing home if I was him. Or palliative care.
– Harsh! And after all he did for County I-erLand?
– Seriously? What’d he actu’lly do? Drink pints in Knock?
– Ye’v a short memory. Didn’t he drink pints in Dundalk as well? A load a’ pints if I mind rightly.
– Well, he’ll have plenty a’ time now to drink pints in Dundalk annaway.
– Here. You know what? I like Joe and all but if he doesn’t have Air Force 1 we don’t want him back. What’s the point?
– Maybe the Don will give him a free weekend in Doonbeg. Going away present.
– That’d be a nice touch alright. Here, humor me now, but will ye tender to finish this big wall at the border? Bound to get a good turn a’ dollars at that gig. Leave the Big Apple and get a lick a’ winter sun.
– See ye! Plenty a’ juice for squeezing in this Apple yet. I’ll see the real border next time I’m back home.
– Here, but wasn’t it some gimmick like – promise to build a wall and make the Mexicans pay for it?
– Caught the imagination alright.
– Right enough. So here – I was thinking. If I ever stood for President. In Ireland like.
– Go on.
– You know what I’d promise?
– Is there a punchline coming?
– Not a quick one annaway. But bear with me. Right. So what’s it always doing outside?
– Outside where?
– Here. In Ireland. The weather like.
– Right yeah. Raining. Pissing. Lashing. Bucketing.
– Yeah, maith an buachaill*. And if it’s not pissing now it’ll be pissing very shortly. Agreed?
– Sure annatime I call the home house the oul’ doll is whinging about the rain.
– My Mams the same. So, if I was going for President I’d remind everyone that Ireland would be a great wee country if we could put a roof on her.
– The oul’ boy always said that. Actu’lly all the uncles said it.
– That’s cause everyone said it. Back in the days ov’ half’uns. Before sun holidays. And Tik-Toks. When we were all thin –
– You were never thin –
– And red haired. And emigrating. So annaway it catches the nostalgia if ye get me? ‘Cause like, ye can give us all the Big Pharma and Apples and Googles but at the back ov’ it all? We just want someone to sort the fucken rain.
– Here, where ye going with this ye space cadet? I’ve a fucken business to run.
– Hold thy tongue brother! My election promise ‘id be to put a roof on her. And wait for it…
– Go ye dose ye.
– I’d make the Brits pay for it.
– … Sensational…
– Ha! Knew ye’d like it.
– Did ye think a that yerself?
– Sure who else’d have the lateral thinking skills?
– But seriously. Yer some tool – ye couldn’t put a roof over my nutsack.
– Fuck aff’ you. And mark my words. Ye’ll be begging for Joe to come back shortly.
– Quit your talking. Any other news for me?
– Eh, well, it’s raining. Pissing. Lashing. Bucketing.
– Right I’ll tip on so. A few lads to call back.
– Same time, same bat channel.
– Right lad. Keep the faith.



Maith an buachaill*: good boy (Irish Gaelic)


For more Hands Free back chat subscribe below..