An appeal.

Dear Ireland,

I have a complaint to make. No, this isn’t about the weather, although that could use a bit of a clean up, nor is it about the shitty public transport system, or the mismanagement of our hard earned money. Nope, this is about the ingrates you let into your country.

Three years ago when I sailed flew over from the US, you let me in with open arms and very little hassle. I was in panic attacks for a while thinking I would get to the immigration window at Dublin airport and you would tell me that what qualifies me to come into the country was completely invalid, that I had to leave immediately, and that I better do it fast before you told my dad and then I would be in BIG TROUBLE.

But, no, you opened the doors for me to easily step through, let me get a job, a bank account, and even a mobile phone network. It took a while to get a credit card but eventually you even gave me that privilege and since then I have been living here like I have been here my whole life.

Well, yesterday, you decided to bestow this honor onto another American. She came into the country last week toting a marriage certificate from the commonwealth of MASSHOLEachusettes, and after telling her that her husband isn’t really Irish, having him prove that he actually is Irish (because that’s what it means when a birth cert says you were BORN IN SLIGO), today you have given her a little immigration card and have sent her off to get a most coveted PPS number that will allow her to work and pay all sorts of exorbitant taxes.

Bad idea, Ireland. You lose the Smart Country Award today. Maybe you were confused? Her name is Liz and we both share a resemblance to the Notre Dame Fighting Irishman. Did you think it was me? Because it’s not, Ireland. That’s not me at all.

First off, she’s 10000 feet tall, as is her husband. This means that one day they will produce the largest babies in Ireland and that’s just a strain on this little country’s resources. Think of the milk that will need to be consumed by the kid! What if they have multiples? And she is AMERICAN. You know that we eat more than any other nationality. LOOK IN MY REFRIGERATOR.

Also, there is only so much room in this country for an American Liz. I have taken that honor. I was thisclose to being beaten by this Elizabeth, but luckily it’s not an Elizabeth competition, just Liz. I hold that crown and you just can’t up and take it away from me. You’ll just have to ask her to leave.

I include a photo of the offending Liz with this letter so there will be no confusion when it comes to booting her out.

All the best,

P.S. LOVE the new developments on the M50. Seriously, spectacular work.

Leave a comment -

Liz in Dublin