Ivor Callely is not a public representative.
Can we get that clear now? He’s a political appointee of Bertie Ahern after the electorate kicked him out in 2007. They couldn’t stand the overbearing, self-important little twat any more, so he tried to win one of the rigged Senate seats instead. Even that didn’t work, so he turned to Bert for a dig-out and ended up in the Senate, as a Taoiseach’s nominee, that safety net for political failures, bozos, arseholes and general gobaloons such as himself.
Despite Bertie’s gift of the Senate, Ivor was so emotionally shattered that he moved his domicile to West Cork, as far away from his Dublin base as he could find, and sought solace on his yacht. It was just too painful to continue living in Clontarf after his rejection.
I know, Ivor. I know. Cry if you like. You’re among friends. Rejection is hard.
And even his appointment to the Senate by Bert didn’t assuage his emotional heartbreak, as Ivor continued to commute from his remote Cork eyrie to the Senate to carry out his vital work representing no-one. And of course to keep up his constituency office, even though he didn’t have a constituency any more, but Ivor wouldn’t be the first one to carry on a dead relationship when all his friends know it’s over.
It’s over, Ivor. Stop buying a take-away for two. Get on with your life.
Ivor Callely was elected by nobody and represents nobody except Ahern, the worst prime minister this country has ever seen. He does nothing. He achieves nothing. He represents nobody. Ivor, like most of his Fianna Fáil colleagues, has no qualifications in anything at all.
He simply collects his salary and expenses, which is hardly surprising for an appointee of Bertie but I suppose we should be grateful for small mercies. At least his salary isn’t thrown off the back of a speeding motorbike, and his expenses are in one currency.
God bless that public salary. It permitted Ivor to buy his holiday home in Clontarf and his fine house in West Cork where he lives all the time, except when he attends his constituency clinics in Dublin on Monday, Wednesday and Friday.
And that public salary, God bless it, allowed Ivor somehow to scrape together the money for his yacht. Isn’t it a pity that the young ladies Ivor chose to entertain on his publicly-funded yacht didn’t have a better grasp of the control knobs? So to speak.
Sensible old Ivor, finally getting dressed in a kimono instead of that embarrassing little towel, and admitting to the Sherkin Gardai that it was indeed his yacht that had damaged the boat belonging to George and Imelda Barry, even though he might not have been at the helm, so to speak.
Ivor, as everyone knows, lives in North Dublin, but he’s been claiming travel expenses from his holiday home on the most westerly tip of West Cork, and of course, it’s only human nature, if the system permits it, to maximise one’s return. No?
Not when you’re a member of the ruling political party that has imposed savage cuts on the taxpayer and the public sector.
Here’s an extract from Ivor Callely’s statement to the Seanad regarding his €80,000 expenses.
I have always indicated that I have a West Cork residence, a Clontarf home and a Constituency Office in Dublin North Central and travel from all three depending on circumstances to fulfil my Seanad duties. I understand that I have complied with the regulations.
Read that again now.
A constituency office, did he say?
Folks, Ivor doesn’t have a constituency, so why would he need a constituency office? He’s not a member of the Dáil. He doesn’t have a constituency, and therefore he doesn’t have a constituency office. He’s a Senator, like all the other useless Bertie-appointed placeholders.
He has a home in Dublin and a holiday cottage in Cork. He lives in Dublin as his own website confirms:
Married to Jennifer, they have three children. He was educated and continues to live in Dublin North Central.
Ivor, you fucking eejit, you don’t live in Cork. You live in Dublin. Give back the money and quit, you miserable git.