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No, you really don't.
I wouldn't know.
Story of your life

Or not.



You want me to follow one of your links and see it on another site, then come back here and reply to you, is it?

You don't learn too fast, do you Che?



Good lord.

It's painful seeing you unable to comprehend the simplest of things.



Or not.
It's twenty-seven cents out on the balcony
Don't spend it all at once

with blue skies all the way off to eternity - and you want me to go to Arsefield's, read some Gript article along with the usual bullshit they comment with over there, then come back here and tell you what I think?

I can tell you right now what I think without even reading your sources: it's 'get a fucking life you terminally sad bastard'.
 
Howya boys. Shagged three fellas behind Spanish Arch followed bye Supermac's after ward. Jaysus me fanny is feelin gr8.

Hope Dave dont find out
 
Some great advice in today from Water Safety Ireland who offered some sterling tips to swimmers of a 'certain age' if they should find themselves in the water and in some difficulty. They say, and I shit you not - that if you fall in to the water by accident, don't try to swim. Instead, try to float.

You have to wonder where these cunts get their neck from.

At first I laughed so hard I almost fell off the seat, my dinner guest at first didn't understand why I found it so funny.

It's an Irish thing, I guess.
 
Did you find out how the coins (twenty-seven cents) got onto your balcony, Mowl?

Cents - short for/stadin slangi for - celsius up here.

But still no FLERFties.

Or LARPing.

How do you think they got there?

The sun provided them - for free too.


Magpies don't fly in our courtyards due to the presence of geese, crows, and gulls, who'll chase them down and out.

There are lots of thrushes and tits as well: blue, yellow, very cute and very brave - they sometimes flutter in and bash into the windows to get back out. I really don't mind, in fact I find it very sweet. The only hassle is when they scared, then they shit. But few/no magpies.

Fell through the grill of the balcony above yours?

I live on the top floor - there's no-one above me.

I get the expansive sea view from my south-facing windows and balcony.

No lettuce growing to block the way either.


You're not very bright, are you Che?
 
Also too, I know that you've never heard of it (Gript) but what do you think of McGuirk's article on ethnonationalism. Penny for your thoughts? 🤔

There's a lot of comments on that (especially for a Gript article).

I liked this pithy one - https://gript.ie/reclaiming-the-tricolour/#comment-52418

Of course, I don't think McGuirk will be getting any support from the 'Left' anytime soon.
 
Cents - short for/stadin slangi for - celsius [sic] up here.
Or centigrade?

I mean, that would make a bit more sense wouldn't it Mowl

But still no FLERFties.

Or LARPing.



The sun provided them - for free too.



Magpies don't fly in our courtyards due to the presence of geese, crows, and gulls, who'll chase them down and out.

There are lots of thrushes and tits as well: blue, yellow, very cute and very brave - they sometimes flutter in and bash into the windows to get back out. I really don't mind, in fact I find it very sweet. The only hassle is when they scared, then they shit. But few/no magpies.



I live on the top floor - there's no-one above me.

I get the expansive sea view from my south-facing windows and balcony.

No lettuce growing to block the way either.



You're not very bright, are you Che?
 
Or centigrade?

I mean, that would make a bit more sense wouldn't it Mowl

No - not to Finnish people.

Both terms have three syllables, and Finns tend to be rather economic with words.

In reference to sauna temperatures, for example.

One syllable is preferred.
 
So while Ireland's deep in the shit with these fuckers, you're getting hung up on Finnish slang?



You really need to get a fucking job, Che.

And a life.
 
You know, you could have just held up your hand here Mowl Mowl and said - "Yep, you're right Jambo and I'm wrong", "Cents is obviously short for centigrade and not Celsius."

Remember the time when you corrected me on Geiger counter (I hadn't capitalised Geiger)? I held up my hand then, didn't I? I said that I had expected the software to autocorrect it and that I would never trust it (the software) again but you never admit your mistakes Mowl (not even to yourself) which is why you'll never learn
 
I'll tell you a story Mowl Mowl, from my childhood..

So I had this friend, let's call him John. John wasn't the koolest kid and he was big into lego. I remember one of the favourite things I did with John was build galleons out of lego in his room and then after we had built them we would take them out to the landing and they'd face off against each other in battle. Mine usually had the most canons and I would always win anyway.

See, John was a bit meek (obviously an intelligent kid) and I was dominant over him.

So the point of the story is one day I said something about the Asterix books, remember them? I loved them, used to collect them.

There was a quote in the books about someone being an "envoy of Caesar" and I asked John if he knows what that means. And he said sure, giving the correct definition of 'envoy' but see, I had already made up my mind that envoy meant someone so important that even Julius Caesar himself was envious of them. So I said - "Wrong, shithead!" (I didn't call him shithead) giving my (wrong) definition and he then said - "Okay, Jambo" (he didn't call me Jambo) and we left it at that.

John kinda sprung it on me (through no fault of his own) but.. I knew he was right - at that exact time (I didn't have to look it up later nor nothin') but pride was fucking with me and I couldn't admit it at the time.

Why do I remember something like that so acutely from my childhood, can't remember exactly what age we were but certainly under 10, because it taught me a lesson.
 
I'll tell you a story Mowl Mowl, from my childhood..

I was just writing about my own over on the music thread. I was a loner, the only blokes from school I hung with outside of school hours were usually the freaks and weirdos. Music, art, and literature were better friends to me than out on the streets. My Dad and I had a falling out because I quit soccer and GAA, rugby too. But when he saw my brother bloom, he was really proud.

But I had to show him and let him make his own mind up.

We went to watch him train and play with Ballyfermot United (which I was previously a player for).

That's when the penny dropped.

So I had this friend, let's call him John. John wasn't the koolest kid and he was big into lego.

I had a similar mate named Terry Lee - he was the weirdest kid I ever met.

Also a bit of an eejit in that in his late teens he wanted to be an alcoholic. Really, that was his wish. He sold two beautiful guitars for peanuts so he could 'experience rock-bottom' and act out the role he learned from another freak we met busking, and he WAS an alcoholic. A right fucking gouger I despied at first sight.

Terry Lee died young, he went to teach English in Spain after his Mam died. The old man died soon after and the younger brother simply sold the house, took the money and fucked off to Asia, spending the whole lot. Weird family, very snooty, totally NOT suited to Ballyer.

I remember one of the favourite things I did with John was build galleons out of lego in his room and then after we had built them we would take them out to the landing and they'd face off against each other in battle. Mine usually had the most canons and I would always win anyway.

I loved Lego, I was given gifts of it for years.

See, John was a bit meek (obviously an intelligent kid) and I was dominant over him.

Meek equates with intelligence?

How so?

So the point of the story is one day I said something about the Asterix books, remember them? I loved them, used to collect them.

No, comics weren't my thing.

There was a quote in the books about someone being an "envoy of Caesar" and I asked John if he knows what that means.

You've heard of Warren Zevon?



Music is educational in more ways than one.

And he said sure, giving the correct definition of 'envoy' but see, I had already made up my mind that envoy meant someone so important that even Julius Caesar himself was envious of them. So I said - "Wrong, shithead!" (I didn't call him shithead) giving my (wrong) definition and he then said - "Okay, Jambo" (he didn't call me Jambo) and we left it at that.

So neither of you called each other nasty names?

John kinda sprung it on me (through no fault of his own) but.. I knew he was right - at that exact time (I didn't have to look it up later nor nothin') but pride was fucking with me and I couldn't admit it at the time.

That's early childhood for you - there's lots to learn along the road to manhood.

Why do I remember something like that so acutely from my childhood, can't remember exactly what age we were but certainly under 10, because it taught me a lesson.

Exactly.

My childhood school days were mostly crap: I was too smart to be lumped in with the gobshites and far too mature for my age. That came from the way I preferred the company of older people. I was too well read for a Ballyer kid and that fucked with the teacher's ways of handling me. They knew that if they clattered me that my old man would be calling by next AM to repay the gesture, so at least I didn't have that to worry about.

The lessons learned from childhood will mostly stay with you, and maybe even more occasions of magical memories can occur to us as we age.

I have an almost photographic memory of my childhood, and I can list the books that shaped throughout those years.

Books and Ballyer aren't exactly best friends.
 
I was just writing about my own over on the music thread. I was a loner, the only blokes from school I hung with outside of school hours were usually the freaks and weirdos. Music, art, and literature were better friends to me than out on the streets. My Dad and I had a falling out because I quit soccer and GAA, rugby too. But when he saw my brother bloom, he was really proud.

But I had to show him and let him make his own mind up.

We went to watch him train and play with Ballyfermot United (which I was previously a player for).

That's when the penny dropped.



I had a similar mate named Terry Lee - he was the weirdest kid I ever met.

Also a bit of an eejit in that in his late teens he wanted to be an alcoholic. Really, that was his wish. He sold two beautiful guitars for peanuts so he could 'experience rock-bottom' and act out the role he learned from another freak we met busking, and he WAS an alcoholic. A right fucking gouger I despied at first sight.

Terry Lee died young, he went to teach English in Spain after his Mam died. The old man died soon after and the younger brother simply sold the house, took the money and fucked off to Asia, spending the whole lot. Weird family, very snooty, totally NOT suited to Ballyer.



I loved Lego, I was given gifts of it for years.
Meek equates with intelligence?

How so?
Well I don't exactly think that it's an equation. He wasn't a kool kid, a bit.. nerdy, reserved, intelligent, not very forceful.

Then again, you know what the Bible says about the meek..

No, comics weren't my thing.
You've heard of Warren Zevon?
Nope



Music is educational in more ways than one.

Sounds a bit derivative (and boring) to me

So neither of you called each other nasty names?



That's early childhood for you - there's lots to learn along the road to manhood.



Exactly.

My childhood school days were mostly crap: I was too smart to be lumped in with the gobshites and far too mature for my age. That came from the way I preferred the company of older people. I was too well read for a Ballyer kid and that fucked with the teacher's ways of handling me. They knew that if they clattered me that my old man would be calling by next AM to repay the gesture, so at least I didn't have that to worry about.

The lessons learned from childhood will mostly stay with you, and maybe even more occasions of magical memories can occur to us as we age.

I have an almost photographic memory of my childhood, and I can list the books that shaped throughout those years.

Books and Ballyer aren't exactly best friends.
I suppose every moral has its story
 
Lumpy Von Talbot Lumpy Von Talbot:
The Final Analysis


If you haven't already read my previous posts relating to this then please do so now:


So, it's somewhat of a mystery why Lump is anti-Israel if we consider the fact that his religion is Holocaustianity, say something that he doesn't like about the Holocaust and you'll be "dead to him".

In fact, I would say that his Holocaustianity is on a par with 'Ricard's and Parlon's, who are both staunchly pro-Israel, so why not the Lump? 🤔 And I see that Zippy has expressed her surprise at this state of affairs too -

Post in thread 'Israel-Palestine it's Endgame?' https://politics.ie/threads/israel-palestine-its-endgame.288554/post-14088701

I think that the answer does actually boil down to religion.

Lump is a (rather juvenile) atheist/anti-theist as we all know.. But aren't Muslims religious, as he erroneously thinks all Jews are? Well yes, but I think a bit of leftism kicks in here. Leftists view Islam more as a race than a religion and Lump wouldn't want to find himself "punching down" (on brown people) as it were. I mean, he may share Holocaustianity with 'Ricard and Parlon but he wouldn't share their Islamophobia.

So I think that he's concocted this notion (as described in my previous posts) that Israel is a theocracy and -

Post in thread 'Israel-Palestine it's Endgame?' https://politics.ie/threads/israel-palestine-its-endgame.288554/post-14088931

"I have nothing but contempt for theocracies."

So that how he escapes the conundrum of the horrors of the 1930/40s perpetrated against the Jews by (the biggest bogeyman of them all) the Nazis as well as being anti-Israel. QED.

If you have any criticism of my analysis then please feel free to say it.
 
Well I don't exactly think that it's an equation. He wasn't a kool kid, a bit.. nerdy, reserved, intelligent, not very forceful.

Then again, you know what the Bible says about the meek..

The meek ain't gonna inherit shit - 'cos I'll take it.


A Dublin band called Something Happens! opened his show at The National Boxing ring many years back, and when one/two of his own players were ill, he roped them in as his backing band for a time. They had a few Irish chart hits with songs like 'Hello, Hello, Petrol' - commonly referred to as the source/rip off of Bono's inspiration on Vertigo.



Others included 'Parachute' (a big hit on Irish radio) and 'Forget Georgia'.

Worth a listen.
 
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