So Martin McGuinness steps aside and the Shinners elect Michelle O'Neill to take his place. That makes the delectable Michelle the effective Sinn Fein leader in the North. And while Gerry Adams hasn't gone away you know, (arf, arf.), Mary Lou McDonald is making leadership noises in the Dublin. A betting man might gamble that Gerry is planning an orderly retreat and the ladies are sharpening their claws for the inevitable cat fight to decide who succeeds him.

Michael Martin seems to have seen off all pretenders to the Fianna Fail throne but Enda's days are numbered at the Fine Gael tiller. At Chateau Blueshirts, the equally delectable Leo Varadkar is suddenly full of opinions on everything from health, (well he is a doctor), to public transport, (well he, ahem, saw a bus once). Political commentators have been speculating since the election as to who the Kenny successor might be with Simon Coveney, Simon Harris and of course Lovely Leo all featuring strongly. And nobody gives much of a shit about Labour.

I have referred to Kenny's tendency to open his mouth, only to put his foot inside it and at first glance this morning, we may have another glorious example of this. Asked if he'd consider a coalition with the hated Shinners, Kenny shocked his party to the foundations by saying it could happen. Don't be surprised if slates fly off the roof of Leinster House today because for most blue shirts, it is the ultimate sacrilege. It is the political equivalent of sleeping with the devil. Varadkar will be choking on the cornflakes this morning. You'll find out later who are the sneaky ones with leadership aspirations are because they'll be out in force distancing themselves from Kenny's remarks.

On the radio just now several Fine Gaelers were on already, distancing themselves from any talk of a 'reproachment with the suited bombers and killers. The very idea of sharing Government with material like that is turning all decent minded stomachs. Meanwhile Michael Martin is sitting on hands looking on with much glee. You sort of picture Fine Gael as the prizefighter stepping into the ring and throwing up the arms to accept adulation. Then when the bell rings for round one and the dangerous opponent approaches, Fine Gael gets up and begins punching himself unmercifully until he falls down. It's as hilarious as it is predictable.

However, opinions differ on Enda's motive for the outburst. Seasoned observers are pointing out that he didn't say anything that we don't already know. In the real world should Fine Gael and Sinn Fein end up with a combined majority then have no doubt at all that they'll do the business because needs must. Others are of the opinion that it was a little mischief-making on Kenny's part. A kind of evil fart in the room before he departs leaving Varadkar, Coveney or Harris to deal with the smell. If the latter is correct that I salute the Mayo moron for his sense of humour. 

Mind you, there are already sufficient unpleasant smells around each one of those guys. Bring on the General Election.