Chat 🔥🤬General Chat Thread

[Mowl]

Time stamped for David

 

[David]

22 stone and living off of pizzas? That's news to me.

I think Val really needs to put down the whiskey now and again.

 

[Mowl]

Well, Wolf still lurks here, the poor bastard.

I'm well aware of that, and more: I adore the way he says things like: 'just had a look at the shit-site for the first time in three weeks....'

Yeah, right so.

The poor fool hasn't a life to speak of: he lives in a state of permanent rage, frustration, and total impotence. If he was to put even half the energy into doing something to improve his station, then I might have some respect for him, but he won't. Never will. Finds it easier to whine about how life's treated him really badly. Of course, it never seems to dawn on the poor cunt that he actually deserves it.

His obsession with me continues, as per his latest comments.

He does the same to me, he's worse than a granny gossiping outside the supermarket.

I loved triggering him over there, and how he'd copy everything I did and then call it his own. He was easily the most prone to trolling and manipulation. Its a wonder the penny never dropped for him.

Rage does that to a man: his eyes roll over and the blood starts to gather in the veins popping out of his temples. He desperately wants to be understood, accepted, part of something/anything bigger than he is as one man alone. You see his kind everywhere you go. Losers. Life's detritus. Unlovable, highly detestable, a shame to his own country and bloodline. A total failure which ought to have been aborted at age seven.

They tried me as the token "contrarian voice".

And a fine job you did of it.

But it didn't work out well for them.

It never does.

They hated the mirror I kept holding up to them.

The deep dark truthful mirror tends to do that to shallow men.

Old Dan regularly kept on deleting all of my posts.

The poor fool thinks he has me blocked at IP.

But he'd be wrong there, as he is with every other prediction he ever made.

Sad bastards.

Ain't that the truth.

22 stone and living off of pizzas? That's news to me.

I betcha top dollar Val has a notebook crammed full of key terminology like:

22 stone
Flobby belly
Deh Meeowl
Misha
Wavy arms
Manky jumpers
Smelly y-fronts
Liberace

I think Val really needs to put down the whiskey now and again.

He was quite sober making that last video: but tomorrow's a big day out for Paddy.

Into the pubs at 1100, then into the chipper at 2330, then falling asleep in a telephone box and sharting his pants.

 

[David]

That drunken old fart will believe anything Dan tells him on Arsefield's. I think it was Dan who originally came up with the whole twenty two stone Doxxie nonsense.

 

[Mowl]

That drunken old fart will believe anything Dan tells him on Arsefield's.

Val hasn't a clue how these things work.

I think it was Dan who originally came up with the whole twenty two stone Doxxie nonsense.

Glass houses, eh.

 

[Mowl]

I never fraternized with roadies or bar staff, never mind kitchen porters - telling how brilliant (and handsome) I am.

I work onstage - usually for around 90/110mins: then you lot get to clean up after me.

It's a shitty business for those at the bottom.

 

[Mowl]

'How I lurned to walk' by Declan Kelly - aged 69.

Lurning to wa;lk is a complicated bizness. When I first lurned to walk, all were impressed because I was so yung and lurned to walk. But I am a exsepshinal sort and all would have known me in the Ballinspittle area at that time. Nowerdays I walk in curcles. Or loops as I like to cali dim. I stand up, then put one futt in front of the udder and let meself fall - only for me udder foot to stop me from fallen. Den I repeeet this over and ovr again until I am out the door and out onto streeets. Den I wlak and walk and walk like nobodeez biznesss. Miles and Myles of walk. I love me walk. It saves me the taxi fare too.

When I gow on long walks, I put on me longer shoes. They're bigger than my patent ledder wans and all think day ar refined.

I survive myy walks by carrying a pizza box and two empty Coca Cola tins. That way all are fooled/ and I laugh at it.

Tomorrow I will be out with a billionaire's wife from Kansas, whoo made his money building sheds.

She will give me advise about my invests and tax retunrs.

On May the 13th I will be seventy (70( yeears old)

All will be imprssede.

 

[David]

Val hasn't a clue how these things work.



Glass houses, eh.

Jambo's an interesting character. Today he'll claim that this was his first time to visit Isle since February...accompanied by some commentary on what he seen here, yet tommorow he'll be making the claim that he hasn't looked at Isle since 2024.

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[Mowl]

Jambo's an interesting character.

Yeah, for about a minute.

Then I get all stabby.

Today he'll claim that this was his first time to visit Isle since February...accompanied by some commentary on what he seen here, yet tommorow he'll be making the claim that he hasn't looked at Isle since 2024.

It's amazing how they know exactly what's being said here without EVER EVER EVER EVER logging on.

 

[David]

Jambo's IP has been showing up here in the guests list since the day he left, so I know for a fact that he's lying.

 

[Mowl]

Poor Dave - as if his wife being a trampoline for the incoming hordes wasn't bad enough - Roundy still has him on restricted posts.

You'd think the sorry-assed fucker would spring for a site of his own?

 

[Mowl]

That's right, of course you did.

Just keep drinking the Kool Aid Dutch Gold and tell yourself how brilliant you are, lads.

Tough Paddy's on a roll lately, sadly it's mostly downhill gathering more snow as it accelerates.

 

[Mowl]

Plonkers.

Utter delusional plonkers.

 

[David]

Can't wait for Val's next video later today, he'll be absolutely scuttered.

 

[David]

The poor wife, imagine having to sleep beside Val after he's had a few bottles of whiskey, followed by a feeding of curry.

 

[Mowl]

Happy St Patrick's Day to all the culchies out there!

'H'on, there now, ye little hoor ye. Whatz de craic? I'll have the boiled rat and curried sauce with the bang-bang cat-fillet, an' gimme eh, two extra hot double-dip Jack Russell hind legs in spiced batter, the few chips, the few crispies, and shoor ye hold the tissues and wet wipes...'

'Hey! Yoo no camm into heee no mo', yoo clazy bassard! You barred - for rife - who' rife barred fwom hee'!'

'Ahhh, shore. .. ...ask me bollix so, ye slanty-eyed little hoor, ye.. ..g'wan deer now..'

 

[David]

This would be s great thread starter, Val vs d'Gooks

 

[David]

Culchie Gardai.

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[Mowl]

Pat Shortt hired a Swedish lady friend of mine back in Dublin to weave him a neck wig. Some character of his, obviously a rather hairy one, so he wanted real hair and she imported it from Asia. It was held in place by some sort of tacky/soft glue and looked deadly.

She couldn't get over it, a neck wig?

Only the Irish.

 

[Mowl]

You mean you caught you trying it out in the dressing rooms, just to make sure it fit.

Ye durty schlapper.