roc_abilly
Member
True, but no more of an eyesore than you and your Keith Woods.
And no more of a hostile invasion than what you clowns are importing into the country either.
You are very similar to each other in fact.
Chat 🔥🤬General Chat Thread
- Thread starter David
- Start date
And no more of a hostile invasion than what you clowns are importing into the country either.
You are very similar to each other in fact.
General Chat For All To Read.
Welcome back so to speak. I used to be SwordOfStCatherine on PI. Much obliged, Swords. Since the Western ship is taking on water and going nose up, I thought I'd tread water here with you lot.
www.sarsfieldsvirtualpub.com
Lol, best of luck taking on the US Army.
roc_abilly
Member
Tadhg O' Raghaillagh was another utterly stupid cunt as I recall.
roc_abilly
Member
You're not a nationalist. You're a very silly middle aged fart who has watched too much youtube.
Electricity
Member
Don't tell me, via the "transatlantic underwater white supremacist internet Dylann Roof sea cables"
You're retarded, IMO clinically insane and oh so fucking boring
Mowl
Member
Imagine waking up at dawn and opening your tent flap to see the beautiful waterfall and the sheer green of the Irish countryside with the sun shining down?
If you were to section off a portion of the fields nearby the waterfall for a new shanty town/tent city, they'd likely still move back to Dublin city centre.
I don't get it: being out in the countryside living in a purpose built field tent with heating and air conditioning, access to showers, toilets, laundry, phone charging, a common room with a TV and broadband/free wi-fi, fresh country air, the silence of the night with the Aurora flashing you from above? Among many others just like you: refugees, scammers, criminals hiding out from their crimes back home?
I see a lot of women and children there - that's a first - outside of the images of the queues of your immigration offices.
If you were in their position and had to move to say Moldova because you couldn't/wouldn't stay in your home country, would you rather be out in the countryside or in the city surrounded by vermin, bacteria, skin diseases, and people who hate your fucking guts?
Surely setting up tent outside the immigration offices to get up to date information and immediate access to your needs illustrates a yearning to go back home rather than to assimilate into the culture you've just arrived in - against your will or not? Imagine living at the base of the waterfall in a tent with your family, friends, an open barbecue area, fire pits, sun tan lotion, food trucked in, a morning shower in the fresh clear waterfall? Sure, not even Lord Henry Mountcharles gets to live like that in his Slane castle.
Where would you rather be, Jambo?
Mowl
Member
Perhaps it was a day of Muslim obligation?
Hence all the women and children you never otherwise see?
Even in their countries home they keep their wives and kids indoors - but Paddy's wondering why they're all young males with humps and grievances that are out and about around the city. Not many women or children. They all appear to me to be having a lovely day out. I presume they cleaned up after themselves because if they didn't then (a) they won't be allowed back, and (b) they'd be plastered all over the front pages of whatever social media you get your opinions from.
The comments under the youtube upload are priceless though.
Especially as the videographer doesn't speak at all - he just points his camera.
The night before last, some several hundreds of Irish people were partying in Malmo, Sweden with the Eurovision event. All wearing Ireland jerseys, carrying flags and banners, singing and dancing, and drinking their weight from a smorgasbord of alcoholic delights. How did the Muslim quotient treat them in the city of Malmo? After all, it's supposed to be from there that the eventual downfall of Sweden to Islam is meant to be happening. I didn't see any non-white people out and about for the trash-fest of non-binary crackpots. Did you? You'd imagine that the Islamic lads would be all kitted out waiting for the incoming liberal/woke brigade to stumble out of the pubs and into their clutches?
Didn't see that either, did you?
Did the Muslims in Malmo immediately think that 'here's the white man with his bullshit 'music' again'?
Electricity
Member
Is that why you were up late (for you) on Saturday night the Mowl, to see who won the LGBT+vision?
And to think that the Eurovision Song Contest was the birthplace of the greatest pop group in the known universe..
Mowl
Member
Are you completely fucking mad?
Why would a professional musician be watching such an insult to the arts in general?
Fuck no.
I have no argument with you there: the only worthwhile thing the Eurovision ever did was give ABBA to the world. Finnish TV showed a few documentaries about the band, their history, the fame years, Australia, the endless touring that drove Agnetha (the single best piece of ass out of Sweden - bar Camilla Henemark) to quit to be with her daughter.
When they did the multi-night stint at (I think) The Albert Hall, the guest list was priceless:
Page and Plant, Bonham, Daltrey, Townsend, you name it.
They went backstage for the after party and there's a classic shot of Townsend with his head in hands, utterly floored.
But as for ABBA, I was on a cruise with herself a few years back and we joined a table to chat. Abba came up in the conversation (you haven't lived until you've seen what happens on a Baltic cruise when the DJ drops 'Dancing Queen'. Seriously. The lid's gone altogether. Anyway, some young girl said to me that she preferred Frida's voice to Agnetha's. So I pointed out the error there:
'Her name isn't Frida, it's Anna-Frid'.
No, her name is Frida. Definitely.
'Nope, Anna-Frid, look it up'.
No, everyone knows it's Frida.
'Well, if that was the case, wouldn't they be called ABFA instead?'
Another cracker is the fact that the Sex Pistol's roadie/tour manager carried a boom-box with him and had only one song repeated multiple times on a cassette. That one song was 'Dancing Queen'. Urban myth/legend or not, pretty fucking cool bananas there.
I was a kid when ABBA were the top band in the world, but I adored Agnetha's ass.
They packed a punch live too, remember these guys weren't pepped up on dope. They did their vocal exercises, brought some honey tea and water out with them, killed every venue they played and remained generally sober and above the bullshit that followed them everywhere. Hell of a band too, some of the best players ever out of Sweden. They had an edgier side to them, and tracks like this (from the Australian movie) weren't exactly highlighted even though this one's a fucking bullet to your head.
Just listen to the backing vocal arrangement?
Even with half a dozen backing singers, the two girls left them in the shade. The sudden shift to minor from major all turning on odd bars where, if you miss a beat, you're out. There's no climbing back on the train - it's long gone. This video's time-stamped. The preceding song that segues into it is 'I'm A Marionette' but this rarely played one is pretty fucking intense for a showband:
'Get On The Carousel' Pretty fucking hot for a Eurovision band, eh.
There are prog rock bands out there who couldn't deliver the intensity these guys can.
Electricity
Member
Because you have nothing better to do on a Saturday night than watch telly (or any other night for that matter)?
Fair enough. Good point.
Your interlocutor could have continued though with - Who the f*ck would name their band "ABFA" (instead of ABBA)??
But that's just me, I can win arguments even when I'm wrong (which I never am anyway so it doesn't really matter)
I wonder what it was like for the brunette, I mean she's obviously not unattractive or anything.. but if you're next to Agneta.. Well, let's just say that 9 out of 10
Mowl
Member
I see they've shut down The Portal over on North Earl Street.
And that's why you can't have nice things.
Up here we have twenty-three degrees in the sun with a balmy breeze rolling in off the sea. This weekend is the first of many free street festivals, and Arabia will be closed off to traffic so they can set up multiple stages for live shows alongside some performance art, second hand markets, private stalls for each family to sell off excess items, lots of street food, my man Pete and his Big Bols (big inflatable balloons you climb into and bounce off each other) the farmer's market, garden herbs and flowers, homemade foods and drinks (no alcohol, supposedly) and it all goes on until well into the wee hours.
Living in the happiest country in the world is very tiring: there's so much to enjoy, do, see, and visit - it just never ends.
Living in the happiest country in the world is even happier when the weather turns exactly as predicted/expected and the sun blazes down on us.
Wish you were here to see it.
And that's why you can't have nice things.
Up here we have twenty-three degrees in the sun with a balmy breeze rolling in off the sea. This weekend is the first of many free street festivals, and Arabia will be closed off to traffic so they can set up multiple stages for live shows alongside some performance art, second hand markets, private stalls for each family to sell off excess items, lots of street food, my man Pete and his Big Bols (big inflatable balloons you climb into and bounce off each other) the farmer's market, garden herbs and flowers, homemade foods and drinks (no alcohol, supposedly) and it all goes on until well into the wee hours.
Living in the happiest country in the world is very tiring: there's so much to enjoy, do, see, and visit - it just never ends.
Living in the happiest country in the world is even happier when the weather turns exactly as predicted/expected and the sun blazes down on us.
Wish you were here to see it.
Bad news for skangers and troublemakers - the Spaniards are outlawing piss-up culture in Ibiza etc.
www.euronews.com
Spain’s Balearic Islands bring in new overnight alcohol ban
Holidaymakers also face fines of up to €1,500 for drinking in the streets.
www.euronews.com
Mowl
Member
My cousin joined a group of his mates and their families and between them, clubbed together for an apartment of their own on one of the Spanish islands, though I can't recall which one. They paid a lump sum, got a lawyer to draw up a contract, they share the mortgage and every family has a timetable they arrange among themselves so that every gets a few holidays every year in the sun.
These lads aren't going down there for the culture either: they're all in it for the laughs and the craic. With budget airlines tickets being so cheap and cheerful, it's actually paying off because the costs in Spain are far lower than in Ireland, especially the boozing culture, which is what they're there for. Sunshine, cheap food, cheap drinks, beach time, suntan, dancing, and not having to fork out thirty euros for two pints and a packet of peanuts.
Another friend up here was telling me that she and her lifelong friend have decided to buy a place of their own up here in Finland. Two ladies, neither married but both open minded, want to try out a new model of shared housing in order to keep the costs sensible. Again, clear legal lines must be adhered to but in general I think it's a great idea. Maybe blokes would find it harder to share with each other - especially Irish lads: they'd be at each other's throats within a few days.
Ibiza's too fucked to fix - that law's never going to work.
At least not in the tourist's mind.
These lads aren't going down there for the culture either: they're all in it for the laughs and the craic. With budget airlines tickets being so cheap and cheerful, it's actually paying off because the costs in Spain are far lower than in Ireland, especially the boozing culture, which is what they're there for. Sunshine, cheap food, cheap drinks, beach time, suntan, dancing, and not having to fork out thirty euros for two pints and a packet of peanuts.
Another friend up here was telling me that she and her lifelong friend have decided to buy a place of their own up here in Finland. Two ladies, neither married but both open minded, want to try out a new model of shared housing in order to keep the costs sensible. Again, clear legal lines must be adhered to but in general I think it's a great idea. Maybe blokes would find it harder to share with each other - especially Irish lads: they'd be at each other's throats within a few days.
Ibiza's too fucked to fix - that law's never going to work.
At least not in the tourist's mind.
Spain seems to attract a different type of tourist than say France or Italy...or at least coastal Spain does. The holidaying culture within France for instance seems to be much more conservative and family-orientated by comparison.
Can't really blame the Spaniards for getting annoyed at having to wake up every morning only to find piss and puke outside their front doors. Yet Ibiza etc. might at the same time be shooting itself in the foot economically with such legislation. Maybe they want to have their cake and eat it too...but if it were me I'd chose a little poverty + peace of mind in my local community over having to constantly deal with yobos.
Can't really blame the Spaniards for getting annoyed at having to wake up every morning only to find piss and puke outside their front doors. Yet Ibiza etc. might at the same time be shooting itself in the foot economically with such legislation. Maybe they want to have their cake and eat it too...but if it were me I'd chose a little poverty + peace of mind in my local community over having to constantly deal with yobos.
Mowl
Member
I like that in the French model, every man deserves a holiday away from home: hence all the camping parks up and down the country. I stayed in loads of them on that epic nine-week driving trip to the Atlas Mountains in Morocco. We set off from Dublin over to Holyhead and then the run down to Southampton and another car ferry over to France. We'd drive through the night and save our days for arrival into a campsite, set up the tent, have a swim, shower, and then into town to taste the local delectables. Take off again the next day and cover a few hundred miles at leisure and arrive at the next camp.
We did that all through France and spent about a week driving and camping.
Then we hot Spain: neither of us are fans of the culture so we drove through as fast as we could down to Gibraltar, then the ferry over into Ceuta, Spanish Morocco. Up into the mountains and man the view was sprawling, never seen anything like it. Drove up to the summit to Chefchaouen, an amazing little town on the mountain top, non-stop twenty-four hours a day action. Four different cultures of people bringing their wares to market at all hours of the day. The one constant thing that was practically a time-keeper was the call to prayer: fuck me, but it sounds even more amazing when it's being sung from the mountaintops. never had so much as a nasty word from anyone. Felt perfectly safe day and night, and me barefoot with a light cotton/linen suit in salmon pink (no shirt either) for dinner in the evenings. Stayed there for seven weeks including a foray into Algeria on foot with a tribe of Berbers, and another time I went over the top and down into the Sahara to spend a night with nothing bar a sleeping bag and a bottle of wine.
No problems, no hassle, and very safe to approach the camel trains to ask for a ride back over the mountains; lovely people, very kind, very vocal too.
When the trip was up, we started the drive back home giving ourselves one week to leave north Africa and arrive in Dublin before closing time one week later where we had a date. Or at least I did. We made it too, drove straight into the city and parked (illegally) and went into Kehoe's pub and announced our return. Pints of Guinness never tasted so good. That's also when we realized how dark our skin was: I looked like a darkie myself.
Great trip, once in a lifetime and worth every moment.
We did that all through France and spent about a week driving and camping.
Then we hot Spain: neither of us are fans of the culture so we drove through as fast as we could down to Gibraltar, then the ferry over into Ceuta, Spanish Morocco. Up into the mountains and man the view was sprawling, never seen anything like it. Drove up to the summit to Chefchaouen, an amazing little town on the mountain top, non-stop twenty-four hours a day action. Four different cultures of people bringing their wares to market at all hours of the day. The one constant thing that was practically a time-keeper was the call to prayer: fuck me, but it sounds even more amazing when it's being sung from the mountaintops. never had so much as a nasty word from anyone. Felt perfectly safe day and night, and me barefoot with a light cotton/linen suit in salmon pink (no shirt either) for dinner in the evenings. Stayed there for seven weeks including a foray into Algeria on foot with a tribe of Berbers, and another time I went over the top and down into the Sahara to spend a night with nothing bar a sleeping bag and a bottle of wine.
No problems, no hassle, and very safe to approach the camel trains to ask for a ride back over the mountains; lovely people, very kind, very vocal too.
When the trip was up, we started the drive back home giving ourselves one week to leave north Africa and arrive in Dublin before closing time one week later where we had a date. Or at least I did. We made it too, drove straight into the city and parked (illegally) and went into Kehoe's pub and announced our return. Pints of Guinness never tasted so good. That's also when we realized how dark our skin was: I looked like a darkie myself.
Great trip, once in a lifetime and worth every moment.
