The Heelers Diaries

the fantasy world of ireland's greatest living poet

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Location: Kilcullen (Phone 087 7790766), County Kildare, Ireland

Sunday, September 05, 2010

my interview with ger colleran of the daily star

In the dim and distant days of youth I went for a job interview at The Daily Star.
The Daily Star is a low rent tabloid newspaper produced by the bankrupt Tony O'Reilly in association with British porn baron Richard Desmond.
Its editor is Ger Colleran.
Ger Colleran is most famous for a grotesque lie he propagated on national television when with malice aforethought he viciously, maliciously and malignly claimed that children had been abused in every Catholic Church presbytery in Ireland.
The Daily Star would not normally be the sort of place you'd find me hanging out.
But to be honest, I was desperate.
In any case, proprietor Richard Desmond's porn business was then unknown to me.
And editor Ger Colleran's mendacious bigotry had not yet come to light on national TV.
So I wandered along to be interviewed.
The innocent abroad.
I entered a featureless shoe box like building in the Dublin suburb of Terenure.
It looked like something the cat had built.
The interior looked like it had been decorated by the same cat.
The corridors were dark.
There were bits of paper strewn everywhere.
Half opened doors presented detritus strewn vistas of dank and mouldy offices.
I could sense ye parfait odour of pure misery.
As I searched for Ger Colleran's office a silly looking blonde tottered towards me on silly high heels.
As we passed in the corridor she gave me a glance of rarified gormlessness.
She just looked silly.
Kind of sad.
Buxom blondes wearing high heels normally have my approval for whatever they do.
I consider them a glory of the universe.
But something about this one was just depressing.
Straight away I knew there was only one reason she was there.
She was there to make the place interesting for the useless lechers who had hired her.
Great scot.
I found the whole thing infinitely bleak.
Ger Colleran's office materialised ahead of me through the mist.
I tapped on the door and a voice bid me enter.
In I walked.
Ger Colleran was a grinning slatternly egg yolk of a man.
When I beheld him a wave of nausea swept over me.
The Christian religion apparently requires me not to despise people whom I instantly find despicable.
With difficulty I mastered the urge to simply turn around and walk out of the office.
I am a kindly and accepting fellow.
My reaction to Ger Colleran was not typical of me.
For no reason that I could discern, I found him instantly contemptible.
Repellant.
Without merit or ability.
His bearing and mien proclaimed him to my eyes as a loathsome objectionable opprobrious lout.
All this I concluded just from one look at him.
Still.
When all is said and done.
He can't have been a total dud.
He obviously knew enough about running newspapers not to hire me.

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