Un peu d'humour irlandais particulièrement typique, genre celui que tu entends  ̶à̶ ̶l̶a̶ ̶m̶a̶i̶s̶o̶n̶  au pub. C'est une petite nouvelle de l'écrivain dublinois, Roddy Doyle, écrite hier. (je ne traduis pas pour garder le sens véridique des mots).

-Yeh know these Syrians?
-Yeah.
-Well, I don’t think they should be let into the country.
-Wha’?
-Until they can speak American.
-Fuckin’ wha’?!
-Your woman from tha’ top bit of America – .
-Sarah Palin.
-Yeah. Well, she’s dead righ’. An’ Trump as well. You should listen to him. All these years the Spanish have been tellin’ us they speak Spanish, an’ they’ve actually been speakin’ Mexican. The shifty fuckers.
-Hang on - wha’?!
-An’ the Portuguese have been speakin’ Brazilian.
-Hang on - I need a fuckin’ map.
-But the worst – no surprise, really. The English.
-They haven’t been talkin’ English.
-No.
-They’ve been talkin’ American.
-Yeah. Accordin’ to Sarah.
-The fuckin’ bastards.
-Shakespeare me hole.
-Hang on, but. What do we talk then?
-Shite.
-The Irish talk shite?
-Fluent.
-So we’ll only let in people tha’ can talk shite?
-Yeah.
-Well, there’ll be no fuckin’ shortage of candidates.
-We have to be generous.
-And you know who’ll be at the front o’ the fuckin’ queue?
-Who?
-Trump an’ Palin.