Imagine if you could think for yourself.. Or your race..
I don't care what you call nig-nogs
Chat 🔥🤬General Chat Thread
- Thread starter David
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Wha?
Mowl
Member
I'm entirely self sufficient, Jambo - always have been. That's what being raised in Dublin 10 does for a kid: teaches you independence, how to think and act for yourself, how to cross vast peaks on a high-wire without fear. I am where I am, which is exactly where I want to be, because I made this happen myself, with fuck all help or advice from anyone else. In fact, I very much laughed at the advice I was being given by my peers in both the music and art business scenes that I was leaving the EU's hottest young country to move to a remote outpost at exactly the wrong time: 1999.
I laughed at them then, but I'm sad for them now.
That's because most of them are in the ground.
They drank the Kool Aid and bought into the state and banks' collusion to hamstring the Irish.
Many didn't make it out the other side.
But I did, and I'm still standing. Still wagging my finger, still trying to teach Paddy and Bridie that they've been lied to since the day they were born and they still haven't opened their eyes to the reality on the ground around them. I'm happy. Happiness, Jimmy, like love, is one of life's greatest gifts. And I feel both, every passing day. I awake with a smile to see the skies above me and the ground beneath my feet to greet another day of happiness, while you're little more than a tightened little ball of un-muted rage and anger at the mess you call your life.
You waste day after day complaining. To nobody. Nobody is listening to you now any more then they were a year ago, three years, since the day you were born.
If my race - in your view, is white Irish people, then let me clear this up for you right now:
I got the fuck off that shitty little island as often as I could from the age of eighteen specifically to get away from Irish people. White Irish people. The same white Irish people who bankrupted the semi-state public transport company from within. Yesterday you tried to suggest a scenario wherein an immigrant female drove a bus into some local character and killed him on the high streets, your insinuation being, I would imagine, that if a white Irish driver was in control it wouldn't have happened.
That's exactly the sad bastard kind of shit Paddy gets up to all the time.
That's exactly the kind of cunt I don't want in my life.
I despise white Irish people, I despise Ireland, her hypocrisy, her breeding of losers like you.
You are the sole reason for your troubles, Jimmy- nobody else.
Fuck Ireland, fuck the Irish, and fuck you.
Is that right?
You don't care what I call nig-nogs?
What does that even mean, you dopey wanker?
But fair enough, you thick Paddy scum-bucketed loser: wallow in your misery, it amuses me greatly.
Rage against the dying light while you still can, because the darkness is coming for you, like it's always been.
Me? I'm standing tall in the bright sunshine in the world's happiest country, and I have been for more than two decades.
No wonder your misery makes me laugh.
You were so focused on trying to get me to respond to your bait about the immigrant bus-driver and how my Old Man would feel about it were he around today. I told you it was CIE's own employees who robbed the transport system blind, but you didn't even notice it when I pointed it out, such is your lust for pointing fingers at anyone not 'white' enough for your eating habits.
Carry on, Kid - I'm grinning at you from up here in the deep deep Nordic happiness that surrounds me.
Keep plugging away, maybe one day you'll actually convert some dumb kid like Daemon into believing your schpiel.
But even he saw through you and dropped you like a hot potato.
Look at you now, Mr AN4?
'Fuck you, McDorphin...'
I asked you about DEI. I asked you what your old man would think of DEI hiring in Dublin Bus, albeit I forgot that people below a certain IQ can't handle hypothetical questions
Mowl
Member
Keep trying to distract with the IQ bullshit, kid.
It's nearly working on me - I swear.
So a coloured immigrant wasted an unemployed white Paddy who was well known along the many businesses along the street where he died. He frequented a local cafe further up the street who fed him a sambo and a coffee for free most days - because he was 'a character' as the Irish like to say about their weirdos and eccentrics.
What if it was a white Polish Catholic immigrant who drove over the dad guy?
Would we even be having this conversation - would you even have tired to broach it in some sort of way that it might link to your clearly pre-loaded DEI bullshit? You'd like to imagine my Old Man is turning in his grave at what happened to CIE, but believe me: he learned to loathe them as much (if not more) than me when he was facing his imminent and gruesome passing from cancer.
He asked me why I said I'd become a bus driver and would stick around to help my Mam after he was gone.
I said it was because it was the right thing to do.
He showed me otherwise and we reached a conclusion we both accepted: she didn't need me to help her, she needed me to help myself.
So I should be myself, to honour him, to honour her - and to honour the opportunity I was being given to live a life that made me happy.
Not to die like him, at a young age, with a pretty wife who loved him, with a bunch of kids to raise on her own.
To get the fuck off that shitty little island and find a way to make my life complete, without any interference from Ireland and her many-tentacled whoredom.
Which was exactly what I did, Jambo: I reached for the stars, I hunted for a home, and I used my innate skills and talents to do so.
I used art and music - they were my aeroplanes: they took me to wherever I wanted to to be, every time, and paid me for it.
I never had to sell out and be something I'm not: like someone else's employee, some fucked-up and angry Irish drone living in misery like you.
So take your DEI and ram it up your hole: you lose.
Again.
Do you not remember that I demonstrated this with you before?
So I asked you - If you hadn't eaten all day yesterday, would you have been hungry?
Your reply? - But I did eat yesterday, Jambo.
And then I flashed the infographic, which said that people below a certain IQ can't handle hypothetical questions/scenarios
You've sort of done the same thing here, when I asked you what your father would've thought about a DEI hiring practice at Dublin Bus, you said - But there weren't any blacks back then, Jambo. (or "nig-nogs" as you called them)
Mowl
Member
Nope, I never take anything you say to heart - or mind.
Yes, you did.
Yes, I did.
Whenever you mention IQ, I switch off - because it's predictable boring.
Yes, I used the term nig-nogs - specifically in reference to a point I'd previously made in an earlier post about Alf Garnet - another rabid racist, but a deliberately comedic one. Not like you, who tends to be actually serious in your racism. As for what my Father would have thought about the lady driving the bus who killed the local geezer? So long as she knew how to drive safely, he wouldn't have cared too much - that was the 1980's and he was a family man, like most of his peers.
He did once kill a black when driving his bus. It was in Islandbridge, just over the humpback bridge nearby Conyngham Road depot, where he operated from at the time. A double-decker bus with no passengers on board, he was driving out to a terminal to start his route back into the city. As he drove up the hill towards the Con Colbert Road, a horse ran out of the blocks of flats to the right and he hit it, sending it through the air and falling on its neck, dying moments later. He was in shock and taken to hospital. He signed himself out and came home, a hushed conversation in the kitchen which sounded really serious. I could see he was unsettled when he walked in the front door, pale, ashen, staring without blinking.
An investigation took place and he was offered time off for his state of mind, but I don't think he took more than a few days off to play golf to get his head right. He was a champion golfer, Jimmy. He was a rock star to the Hermitage golfing crew, who he played against for CIE. We never bought a turkey or a smoked ham at Christmas either, Jimmy: he won them at the pitch and putt, every year for my entire childhood.
So yeah, my Old Man killed a black, but not in a way that'd please you: twas but an innocent and panicked auld horse some kids dragged in from the fields nearby the People's Park and war memorial. Likely a knacker's nag for the coal cart.
So I asked you about a white Polish bus driver, remember?
No?
Aaah, sure.. .. .
Sloppy Mowl, sloppy
I told you, you don't have to apologise to me (for being racist)
Not what I asked you. You seem to have a profound inability to understand English
What does that have to do with DEI?
Mowl
Member
That's your best shot after being caught out compounding your poker spoofs?
Whoa.
I didn't apologize, Jimmy.
Nor would I.
Because I'm not racist - and definitely not in any way you are.
Nig-nogs - as in Alf Garnet, fun, laughter: yet not as grim a racist as Les Dawson.
Are you two related?
Everybody knows I'm a literary genius, Les.
Apart from you.
What does that have to do with DEI?
What does anything have to do with the DEI, Jimmy?
You were the one who brought it up after all - and for no apparent reason.
Sure you are - you keep on saying that the only reason you said "nig-nogs" (committed a racism) is because of a fictional TV character. I don't care, I don't care why you said it
You know what Mowl, you are a racist, you know why? Because everyone is
lol For "no apparent reason"? R u serious right now?
Mowl
Member
Nig-nog, nig-nog, nig-nog!
That everyone's also a pedophile (like you) because when they say they don't find sixteen year old girls sexy they're lying too?
Jimmy - it's okay to like sixteen year old girls.
Just not in the way you do.
DEI, DUI, doo-dah-dey, dum-dumb.
Give it a fucking rest, Jimmy.
You think the fact that I am honest enough to say that a sixteen-year-old girl could possibly be physically attractive makes me a paedophile?
Well, join the club of other dishonest losers such as Woof, Tiglet and the Tommytard drunkard, Myles O'Reilly
Mowl
Member
No, I'm saying that you posting lurid pictures of sixteen year old girls to filthy old drunkards to provoke even more lurid conversations with them about their sexual peccadilloes is paedophilic.
Funny how all your best friends have turned out to be drunkards and losers, eh Jimmy?
I mean, you started a club and had them join in. The dead guy, Marcus, was easy meat for a shark like you. You led that poor fool by the nose-ring for a couple of years until I put him wide to your games. Then you turned on him like you just caught him fucking your mother. Again. That one was particularly hilarious, Jambo. Here. let's hand this one over to Myles.
Not O'Reilly, you dumb fucker - Manley.
Mowl
Member
Face it, Jimmy: you lied yourself into a rather tight corner, then got slapped for it: publicly.
The simple evidence is in the various posts across three/four threads, all added today Sunday February 8th, 2026.
The ones to look out for are by your adversary and owner: The Mowl.
Though you can drop the The if it galls too much.
Time for Mowl's evening vespers, Jambo: try to stay off the Dutch Gold - there's a good lad. I must tend to my guitar to finish last night's composition and have it bounced down into stereo and made ready for emailing in the morning. You see I've been playing a lot of guitar lately, mostly because when I got my new Takamine G330 acoustic (for free) a few weeks back, I got hooked on playing it to the degree that I was walking about wearing it on my shoulder to get used to the weight of it. Then I realized how much I missed playing my electric, which is a stunning 1983 Washburn KC120V series Chicago-built rosewood-necked motherfucker. With a whammy bar. Two humbuckers by the bridge, and two Fender Stratocaster model single pick-ups in center and by the fret-board.
I have my mini-Marshall routed through the domestic system (75w per channel) with two in-line pedals: a Boss DD3T digital delay before a Soundtank standard stereo flanger. Any idea what a flanger is, Jimmy? I mean, a digital delay is pretty much a self-explanatory item, is it not? It's a delay unit that digitally processes the signal instead of using the more noisy analog processing using tape loops. It's less hassle, less prone to earthing, and because it's in series and after the digital delay, it gives me far more control over the more subtle expressions. The Marshall is a mighty 2watt amplifier: fits in the palm of your hand, yet has a lovely gain-stage overdrive that's far better then a busker's 15watt amp, which I also have but rarely use.
Do you play any instrument at all, Jimmy - no?
A bit of guitar, you say?
Which bit?
This one's worth around €350 new, but it cost me nothing at all.
Isn't she beautiful, Jimmy?
She was built in 1986 and purchased in 1988 by my neighbour Cecilia's granddad, who died a few months back and she and her husband had to clear out his apartment. The guitars weren't in the will, so she took them home and asked me to investigate them. The other is a Gibson acoustic, a stunning piece of work which I had the Finnish guru of guitars check over for me. It was valued at €1200 without a case - that's a second-hand price, by the way.
So in return for my efforts, she simply gave me the second guitar (the Takamine you see here) to keep while she intends to sell the Gibson when the time is right. I strenuously advised her against selling in the current post-Covid market just now as there are masses of guitars still on the market from beginners and semi-professional players who mostly let their toys go to pay the bills.
Meanwhile I, The Mowl, snapped up lots of horns - you may recall I told you about this?
Then sold them off again - some to their original owners at a mark-up that's nicely funded my lifestyle and habits ever since, and some to strangers.
I love being surrounded by musical instruments. don't you Jimmy?
What's that?
You prefer slabs of Dutch Gold, is it?
Tut-tut.
The simple evidence is in the various posts across three/four threads, all added today Sunday February 8th, 2026.
The ones to look out for are by your adversary and owner: The Mowl.
Though you can drop the The if it galls too much.
Time for Mowl's evening vespers, Jambo: try to stay off the Dutch Gold - there's a good lad. I must tend to my guitar to finish last night's composition and have it bounced down into stereo and made ready for emailing in the morning. You see I've been playing a lot of guitar lately, mostly because when I got my new Takamine G330 acoustic (for free) a few weeks back, I got hooked on playing it to the degree that I was walking about wearing it on my shoulder to get used to the weight of it. Then I realized how much I missed playing my electric, which is a stunning 1983 Washburn KC120V series Chicago-built rosewood-necked motherfucker. With a whammy bar. Two humbuckers by the bridge, and two Fender Stratocaster model single pick-ups in center and by the fret-board.
I have my mini-Marshall routed through the domestic system (75w per channel) with two in-line pedals: a Boss DD3T digital delay before a Soundtank standard stereo flanger. Any idea what a flanger is, Jimmy? I mean, a digital delay is pretty much a self-explanatory item, is it not? It's a delay unit that digitally processes the signal instead of using the more noisy analog processing using tape loops. It's less hassle, less prone to earthing, and because it's in series and after the digital delay, it gives me far more control over the more subtle expressions. The Marshall is a mighty 2watt amplifier: fits in the palm of your hand, yet has a lovely gain-stage overdrive that's far better then a busker's 15watt amp, which I also have but rarely use.
Do you play any instrument at all, Jimmy - no?
A bit of guitar, you say?
Which bit?
This one's worth around €350 new, but it cost me nothing at all.
Isn't she beautiful, Jimmy?
She was built in 1986 and purchased in 1988 by my neighbour Cecilia's granddad, who died a few months back and she and her husband had to clear out his apartment. The guitars weren't in the will, so she took them home and asked me to investigate them. The other is a Gibson acoustic, a stunning piece of work which I had the Finnish guru of guitars check over for me. It was valued at €1200 without a case - that's a second-hand price, by the way.
So in return for my efforts, she simply gave me the second guitar (the Takamine you see here) to keep while she intends to sell the Gibson when the time is right. I strenuously advised her against selling in the current post-Covid market just now as there are masses of guitars still on the market from beginners and semi-professional players who mostly let their toys go to pay the bills.
Meanwhile I, The Mowl, snapped up lots of horns - you may recall I told you about this?
Then sold them off again - some to their original owners at a mark-up that's nicely funded my lifestyle and habits ever since, and some to strangers.
I love being surrounded by musical instruments. don't you Jimmy?
What's that?
You prefer slabs of Dutch Gold, is it?
Tut-tut.