Thursday 24th February:
Dear Diary,
Today was the last day of our election campaign, and what a campaign it has been. Our Leader, Enda the Great, smithed the vile shinners and union communists of the labour party on RTE, even though those media tyrants tried their best to trip him up. A damn liberal homosexual conspiracy. How Id love to go into donnybrook with a couple of good hardy country boys by my side, and a sub machine gun in my hand. But thats for another day diary.#
Best of all was the way Our Leader, Enda the Wise did shut the Cork mouth of that whelp Martin. Oh Diary, how close are we to finally routing those Fianna Fail imbeciles. Its our duty to be the generation that will destroy them Diary. Tomorrow our people go to the polls to vote in this great democracy. Tonight myself and Pascal are going down to the old folks retirement complex to make sure those old codgers vote the right way tomorrow. And if they give me any lip.... well then they'll meet my old friend, Mr Barbedwire Hurley!
Friday 25th February:
Dear Diary,
Polling day. Voted for local party candidates at seven this morning. I had been waiting outside for two and half hours. Couldnt sleep Diary, the excitement had my bowels in a right mess.
After voting, I took up my position to mark our register for the day. McGrath from Fianna Fail was there. He actually tried to make small talk. I told him the game was up and by god if I didnt have him in a concentration camp by christmas, then my mother wasnt a god fearing blueshirt. That fecker reported me to the guards for violent conduct! Ill deal with that guard when Our Leader comes to power.
Saturday 26th March:
Dear Diary,
What a wonderful day Diary. It all started this morning when our man topped the poll. We're sweeping seats all over the country. The Fianna Failers have collapsed. This is it Dairy, this is the day I have dreamed of. Our Leader is coming to power, and no body, I mean bloody no body, will ever mess with me again.
Sunday 27th February:
Dear Diary,
Woke up hung over and in the same bed as Pascal and Finbar. Thats the kind of camaraderie I share with my party mates. Was a bit worried that Finbar was completely naked and dangerously close to me in the bed. Great day yesterday was followed by a great night. Whiskey, Guinness and to cap it all off, myself and Pascal kicked the shit out of a homeless arab. Pure class.
Seems things are not as good as I had first believed. The Shinners and some crowd of Labour Communists called the ULA have captured a good few seats. Didnt the ULA sign Mr Bluesky? Bloody Arty Communists. To make matters worst, it looks like the Fianna Failers will keep up to twenty seats.
Monday 28th February:
Dear Diary,
Had a visit from the local guards. Apparently someone pushed a human turd through the door of the now diposed local fianna fail TD following his crushing defeat on Saturday night. It seemed that the guards were blaming me Diary!
PS Check later to see if Guards have technology to analysis human shit and track down the owner.
Tuesday 1st March:
Dear Diary,
It seems highly likely that the Communist Anarchist Labour Party will be joining us in power. I feel gutted. I rang Our Leader and told him so. He said that these things were necessary in order for democracy to work. Democracy Diary!!! Then he told me not to ring him again and by even making that quick call, I had violated the terms of my restraining order.
Sometimes I believe democracy is a failed experiment. No I dont mean that Diary. I always believe that democracy is a failed experiment.
Wednesday 2 March:
Dear Diary,
Today I sent my own Five Point Plan to Our Leader, Enda the Victorious. I told him that he could throw away that piece of liberalised shite that he had been using as his five point plan over the election, as no we were in there was no longer any need to pretend to be something that we were not.
Havnt got a reply from him yet, but I sometimes believe that my email is monitored by a cabal of international jewish homosexuals who want to prevent me reaching my true peak.
Heres my five point plan for you Diary;
1. Turn Offaly into a giant concentration camp immediately, and begin sending all unaccpetables there. No need to evacuate or compensate anyone, as anyone living in Offaly already is clearly unacceptable.
2. Change St Patricks Day to St Gareth FitzGeralds Day. It would allow us a monopoly on future Springtime elections incase we cant complete point 3, and would also justify keeping Garreth alive all these years.
3. Ban all future elections, and make Our Leader, Enda the Glorious, leader for live, and death. We could stuff him after he chokes, and put a microphone in his mouth. The people wouldn't be able to tell the difference. It would be just like the Wizard of Oz.
4. Put women back in the kitchen. Its time to abolish feminism and put women back to work at the sink.
5. Send home all outsiders. Thats right, send home the poles, Nigerians, and even Leo Vadaraker. We can also use this as an excuse to get rid of Gaelic types like Hector and Des Bishop. They would be more at home in Wales anyway.
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