Chat 🔥🤬General Chat Thread

[Mowl]

This is what you guys are wetting your knickers over?!

I know you're inured to all that infects the streets of your city due to your having lived/existed on them for your entire lifetime.
I know you know of even worse sights than those I mentioned, that you don't talk about, because it hurts too much to even try.
I know you're sad and angry about what's happening to your country, to your life, to your playstation and huge telly.
I know too that the Hollandaise saucers increasing the export price of Dutch Gold slabs has hit you particularly hard.
I know that the crazy fucker who stabbed those three kids and tried to kill their teacher has been living in more comfort than you since his crime.
I know you want someone to kill him, attack him, gang up on him - so you can post a few smilies and act like it was YOU who instigated it.
I know you're terrified of women, that you don't have any in your orbit, and that masturbation gives you less of a fear of how your life's gone completely awry.

At least until you finish yourself, when the guilt and the long shadows start to reappear and dance around you, taunting you, reminding you of who you really are.

But at least after a decent wank there's some playstation action to be had:

 

[David]

This is what you guys are wetting your knickers over?!

How would you like it if you had to deal with scumbags and drug addicts trying to intimidate you on a daily basis when all you're trying to do is put food on the table?

---

 

[Mowl]

How would you like it if you had to deal with scumbags and drug addicts trying to intimidate you on a daily basis when all you're trying to do is put food on the table?

Jambo couldn't give a shit what goes on - he's too busy with his playstation and trying to make new pals on the kiddie site.

 

[AN4]

How would you like it if you had to deal with scumbags and drug addicts trying to intimidate you on a daily basis when all you're trying to do is put food on the table?

---

I think it's a gas that you and moron #2 think that you live in a Ireland of the 1990s, when it was a homogeneous society (not that moron #1 has set foot in the country for thirty years) and it's only "white Irish scrotes" who make the wee dribble down your legs..

 

[Mowl]

I think it's a gas that you and moron #2 think that you live in a Ireland of the 1990s, when it was a homogeneous society (not that moron #1 has set foot in the country for thirty years) and it's only "white Irish scrotes" who make the wee dribble down your legs..

I think it's a gas how you're starting to use Mowlisms all over the place, eh.

Besides, the Ireland of the 1990's was already turning into a shithole, and it's only ever gotten worse since then. Everything that's happened since then happened on your watch, within your sphere of influence, but you did nothing but sit there and take it. But not I: I had plans hatched long before the turn of the millennium, and anyway had spent most of the 90's on the road abroad, including my first visit to Finland (I'd been all over Sweden and Denmark many times, but only two brief tours of Norway, which paid well but was ridiculously expensive) where I decided I was going to move to.

Lots of lovely girls, and not in the Father Ted sense: a culture on the cusp of rebirth, having fixed her system after the collapse in the early 1990's with a housing bubble similar to yours. Except Finland did the opposite to what Ireland did: investors took the hit, any money in the state coffers was ploughed into education, education, education. And it paid off handsomely: within three short years of belt-tightening, a new generation of thinking dawned wherein all the values that existed before the crash were amplified: hire more women on better than equal pay. Open the political ranks to female influence, which in turn has led us to where we are today - world's best quality of life in the world's happiest country.

Ireland - on the other hand, bent over and took it up the ass. She made sure everyone who bet on her to win got their money back, that's the first seeds sewn which ultimately added up to this:



Seventeen and a half thousand homeless Irish people, with the dregs of the planet hanging around your cities sponging up your dole and houses and dragging the godforsaken little pox-bottle down into a third-world hole in the ground. And again: it all happened on your watch, A AN4, on YOUR watch.

You can shrug it off, you can post a facepalm, but you're still going to have to live with it while I'm surfing the wave of Nordic successes, one after the next, with nothing but endless opportunity all around me which affords me the choice of doing what I love to do and paying me handsomely for it. You're still paying off the EMF and everyone else who took a bet on your failed success attempts.

Your white Irish scrotes are as bad as your darker skinned imports who now own your capital city.
They own it, you get to visit it, and sometimes you might even get to leave without having been bare-backed while doing your Christmas shopping.
You're fucked, in every way it's possible to be fucked - while I'm laughing my arse off at ye.
It's a sad state of affairs but it's life and life only for the deluded and lost Irish of today.

You have coloured people who are more Irish than Jambo is.
You have third-worlders also now more Irish than Jambo is.
You have 17,500 homeless people: we have none.
Our third world guests work for their crust, yours just sign on for it.
I've contributed to Finland many successes and am rewarded for my faith and decency every passing day.
I live a life you can only dream of, Jimmy - one you'll never even get to see, let alone experience.

What you're laughing about I don't know - but believe me: my laughter's for real.
Yours is nothing but the hopelessness of any hope at all, and it's getting worse every passing day.
So have all the craic you like using my style of writing and my little motifs everyone knows.
You're still just Jambo, and I'm even more The Mowl today than I was last week.

I've been over to see where you losers are at, and thank fuck my next stop was the airport.
So have it, love it, enjoy it - it's all yours and none of it's mine, bar the cash I rip out of your city and take with me back here to sanity and comfort.

Losers lose, Jambo - and you've lost more than you'll ever realize.
Which makes me laugh - which makes The Robber laugh at you too, and you know he's right.

 

[AN4]

I think it's a gas how you're starting to use Mowlisms all over the place, eh.

Besides, the Ireland of the 1990's was already turning into a shithole, and it's only ever gotten worse since then. Everything that's happened since then happened on your watch, within your sphere of influence, but you did nothing but sit there and take it. But not I: I had plans hatched long before the turn of the millennium, and anyway had spent most of the 90's on the road abroad, including my first visit to Finland (I'd been all over Sweden and Denmark many times, but only two brief tours of Norway, which paid well but was ridiculously expensive) where I decided I was going to move to.

Lots of lovely girls, and not in the Father Ted sense: a culture on the cusp of rebirth, having fixed her system after the collapse in the early 1990's with a housing bubble similar to yours. Except Finland did the opposite to what Ireland did: investors took the hit, any money in the state coffers was ploughed into education, education, education.

And it paid off handsomely: within three short years of belt-tightening, a new generation of thinking dawned wherein all the values that existed before the crash were amplified:

hire more women on better than equal pay. Open the political ranks to female influence, which in turn has led us to where we are today - world's best quality of life in the world's happiest country.

Ireland - on the other hand, bent over and took it up the ass. She made sure everyone who bet on her to win got their money back, that's the first seeds sewn which ultimately added up to this:



Seventeen and a half thousand homeless Irish people, with the dregs of the planet hanging around your cities sponging up your dole and houses and dragging the godforsaken little pox-bottle down into a third-world hole in the ground. And again: it all happened on your watch, A AN4, on YOUR watch.

You can shrug it off, you can post a facepalm, but you're still going to have to live with it while I'm surfing the wave of Nordic successes, one after the next, with nothing but endless opportunity all around me which affords me the choice of doing what I love to do and paying me handsomely for it. You're still paying off the EMF and everyone else who took a bet on your failed success attempts.

Your white Irish scrotes are as bad as your darker skinned imports who now own your capital city.
They own it, you get to visit it, and sometimes you might even get to leave without having been bare-backed while doing your Christmas shopping.
You're fucked, in every way it's possible to be fucked - while I'm laughing my arse off at ye.
It's a sad state of affairs but it's life and life only for the deluded and lost Irish of today.

You have coloured people who are more Irish than Jambo is.
You have third-worlders also now more Irish than Jambo is.
You have 17,500 homeless people: we have none.
Our third world guests work for their crust, yours just sign on for it.
I've contributed to Finland many successes and am rewarded for my faith and decency every passing day.
I live a life you can only dream of, Jimmy - one you'll never even get to see, let alone experience.

What you're laughing about I don't know - but believe me: my laughter's for real.
Yours is nothing but the hopelessness of any hope at all, and it's getting worse every passing day.
So have all the craic you like using my style of writing and my little motifs everyone knows.
You're still just Jambo, and I'm even more The Mowl today than I was last week.

I've been over to see where you losers are at, and thank fuck my next stop was the airport.
So have it, love it, enjoy it - it's all yours and none of it's mine, bar the cash I rip out of your city and take with me back here to sanity and comfort.

Losers lose, Jambo - and you've lost more than you'll ever realize.
Which makes me laugh - which makes The Robber laugh at you too, and you know he's right.

 

[Mowl]

Oh, no!

Not a GIF!!

Please - anything but that!!!!

See?

And I'm still miles ahead of you.

But the one crucial fact here is as plain as the nose on Jimmy Dawson's face: he's TERRIFIED of women.

And I don't just mean the fact that he hasn't been laid in jaze only knows how many years, and I don't mean that his Mammy and Daddy beat him so hard either. Nor is it his flaccid little willy - which he hasn't used for anything bar pissing and wanking for so many years he can't even remember himself.

No, Jimmy is terrified of women in positions of authority.

It keeps him awake at night if he lets it.

Jambo thinks that the only way to succeed is with an old man in his sixties in the driver's seat. Anything less is tantamount to deliberately making him weep and shiver and grab at his nuts like Eminem on decent coke. Jambo's an old dog in the sense that he believes women's place is in the kitchen, and only in the kitchen (not even the bedroom) so the possibility of Jambo being bisexual or full-on gay is getting higher by the day. Add that into the soup of his life: no job, no family, no friends (bar David and I) no drive, no ambition, no balls, no direction, no skills worth mentioning, no achievements worth mentioning, just a trip down to Australia in the 1990's to give him any sense of the world and what goes on in it.

Poor Jambo: I named him, I boxed him up, I battered him, and now I'm cooking him - slowly - over an open fire on a wooden spit.

It's great being The Mowl.

Especially with an easy target like James Dawson to spit-roast!

 

[AN4]

It's just hard to comprehend what a cucked, deluded faggot you are