Mowl
Member
With a castration forceps, scissors and gimp ball restraint, knowing Val
(and Dan).
Did you get to read Val's theory on what makes him a 'lower upper class man of means'?
Considers himself gentry.
Thinks that de-balling pigs (and calling it 'dressing pigs') is a noble pursuit.
Castrating pigs?
Jeesh.
Did you see that RTE Investigates about how Irish bloodstock owners and dealers are treating the animals? Fucking hell. I know livestock's a messy business (a friend's Dad back in Ballyer worked in the abattoir over in Kimmage/Crumlin) but the fucking smell? The filth? And then Val telling us he has no time for washing - he has more important things to do. Like count. He wants everyone to know that he can count. He insists that's what sets him apart from we mere normal humans. Val can count - all the way up to the big numbers like two hundred and forty three, or seven thousand and one.
He also thinks that washing your hands is for the gays.
So you can begin to imagine what his wife has to put up with, especially when he comes home late from the pub and the local chipper. Still not having washed his hands once in the entire day. Because he can count and has better things to be doing with his time. Like shoveling shite. Also considers spelling and grammar useless and strictly for the plebs. Learning how to spell is apparently only for the working classes. Up in Dublin.
Which he hates.
Both Val and Jambo suffer from the same thing. Neither of them can genuinely understand why they're not allowed to infest a public platform with their incontinent stupidity and mindlessness no holds barred. They're made for each other.
Well, Val can count up nineteen million, eight hundred and fifty-six thousand and twenty-four - on a good day.
Jambo can memorize new words he's learned from Telegram and use them non-stop until someone tells him what they actually mean.