Don't kiss me, I'm Irish

Berl's Girls

Usually, when someone asks you 'shall I Irish that up?' you gratefully accept a sly old snifter in your coffee.

With Cowlips and Harney fronting Team Ireland these days, it's starting to mean something different. 'Irished up' is now seen as a dance with the ugly stick and now it seems, we're more famous for being aesthetically challenged than for our previous incarnation as 'Paddy who loves the craic and even the English when drunk'.

The repercussions could be significant. Years ago Guinness ran a campaign on St. Patrick's day - the basic thrust being - the day where everyone can join in the game of being Irish. Now the craic has fallen on hard times.

The pubs are 1/4 full with Tourists still searching from the 'Paddy who loves the craic and even the English when drunk' and plants from the Vintners association. Good humour is no longer on tap and without that what else have we got to offer?

Drink now, only comes out at home where you can smoke like a prisoner on death row and throw your empty glass at Prime Time whenever an ugly one appears. This St. Patrick's Day, let's get prepared. Get Ms Gilson, Rosanna Davies and a few of the 'lovely girls' and get them in political training. Well how hard is it to learn politics?

Borrowing from Peter to pay Paul is a skill most women practice every day while trying to run a home, while working full time. And Harney and Cowlips have been doing the job for years and are still shit at it.

Assuaging soon-to- be- striking workers? 'Unbutton the blouse there a wee bit Rosanna 'and even the most vociferous Union man will be mumbling like his 13 year old self. And as for our image abroad? It will open doors. Just glance around at the Italian parliament and you'll realise that sly old Berlusconi's got it nailed.