Fr Rumsfeld

The small Puffin and I have been scouring the Fr Ted Parish Magazines for reading material. We’re particularly gone on the Fishtank shop adverts. I’m sunk with confusion as to how anyone who wasn’t raised a Catholic and is a raging ice hockey fan could relate, at such a tender age, to Mrs Doyle’s household tips for wives, mothers and crayturs or the top 100 priests and the “I shot JR” references, but agree to broaden his Fr Ted education.

We find why thats delightful Graham Linehan’s blog and are momentarily confused. Puffin intrigued sees a picture of a man: “is that the guy who wrote Fr Ted?” He asks excited. A glance. Unfortunately he’s eyeing a picture of Donald Rumsfeld. No, alas I have to inform him that is the bright spark who thought it was a good idea to invade Iraq.

Scroll up the page to reveal a picture of said Mr Linehan, who in this particular snap, chosen to illustrate his recent annointing as a genius, gives him the look of inside out sock crossed with a mild touch of the squished hamsters. “That’s him?” Puffin squints at said pic. It’s a nice bridge to explaining to small Puffin that being a writer, if he hasn’t already noticed, is indeed a complicated life and stick to his plans for ice hockey goalie domination or metereologist and keep practising the ski-ing. The rope tow may well be kinder than the full stop.