July 4th 2017, a dark day in Irish history
Leo ‘the raging twat’ Varadkar is meeting his long time crush and uber-icon Justin ‘no lube thanks’ Trudeau.
The raging ass handler has straight off the bat pissed all over (what remains of) the dignity of his office, grinning like a window licker in a sweet shop, wearing his fave novelty socks like the bastion of originality he is, while Count Cuckula makes his starry entrance to Farmleigh house.
It’s enough to give you haemorrhoids.
I can only wonder what the The Brown One has in store for the rest of Trudeau’s visit, but already the cringeometer is off the charts.
This is what statesmanship is in 2017 Weimaristan. Trudeau, Macron and Varadkar are what you get when you raise a population of rootless consumerists and mindless worker bees living from one fleeting moment of instant gratification to another.
Substance-less, vacuous, puerile, sexually and morally dysfunctional meat puppets, aping as leaders, busily fiddling with themselves as Rome burns.