Chat 🔥🤬General Chat Thread

[Electricity]

Some modern day examples.

Ah, Dave my boy, there you are again.

Make my account editable will ya, what are you frightened of.. I'll upload an avatar, change my (fake) email address

 

[Electricity]

And, check it out, I'm your Top Poster of.. Forever -

islepoli

islepoli.com

I demand my equal rights, don't make me ban you again

 

[Electricity]

And you worked all that out by yourself, did you?

Good lad.

Crack open another tin of Dutch Gold while your spaghetti's dripping down the wall behind your laptop.



Who cares?



Yeah - you do that.

In other news, I'm due at the studio in an hour, but I've just been stung by an angry wasp on the soft flesh between my thumb and index finger. I was recycling some items at the point return and the wasp came out of nowhere, al I felt was a sudden sharp sting, and when I looked, there was a darker than usual wasp stuck to me. I swiped it off and there was the stinger. I went into the apteeki and asked the lady pharmacist if she could remove it for me as I didn't have my glasses with me, so she got a kit from backstage and cleaned the area, then plucked the stinger out in one clean piece.

Now my left hand is stinging like fuck.

Swelling up too.

I may have to cancel.

Shit-goddamn.

I'm sorry to hear that Mowl. But, I know you're frightened of needles (which is why you didn't get the jibby-jab), you really should have taken the sting out yourself straight away, you know, give it less time to work its magic

Plus, the girls in the pharmacy would have been laughing at you (after you'd left)

 

[Mowl]

I'm sorry to hear that Mowl.

Of course you aren't.

But, I know you're frightened of needles (which is why you didn't get the jibby-jab),

The term 'jibby-jab' makes me want to reach in through my computer screen and grab you by your scrawny little neck and twist it until you shit your pants and piss your y-fronts. You complete fucking twat.

you really should have taken the sting out yourself straight away, you know, give it less time to work its magic

The apteeki is fifteen meters away, why wouldn't I go to the most hygienic area of the mall?

Plus, the girls in the pharmacy would have been laughing at you (after you'd left)

Older ladies, Jambo.

The delightful one who tended to me was very sweet and I'm grateful so when I go shopping later on I'll buy her some flowers from the florist next door to her workplace. I can imagine how confused you must be at the thought of an Irishman entering a store and being treated like royalty (even when dressed in my rather shabby and paint-stained work overalls) when your local experiences are mostly watching knackers from the inner city and gangs of your 'new arrivals' trying to boot the doors of the 7/11 in so they can rob all the vodka and red bull. Maybe smash the Pakistani sales assistant's head in with a crowbar, film it happening, run for cover, and post the event on TikTok.

That's Dublin for you.

Helsinki?

'Hi, I've just been stung here in my left hand by an angry wasp, can you remove it for me please - I have to be in a recording studio in ninety minutes and don't have my glasses with me to see the stinger clearly to remove it effectively'.

Please, Sir - take a seat here.

'Kiitos paljon'.

Ei mittan.

Goes out back, returns moments later with a tray full of items, selects the tweezers, disinfects them, washes the area around the stinger, then plucks it out. We both look at the size of the damned thing and she smiles sweetly: 'all fixed now' she says. Pats me on the head and wishes me a good evening at the studio.

'Kiitos, kiitos - olet enkeli'

Moi-moi.

And away she goes with her little tray and I leave nursing my hand with a clean tissue soaked in disinfectant. At home I used ice cubes to freeze the wound area, waited an hour to see if it was going to swell up, watched as it developed a strong stinging itch and then knew it wasn't going to explode, we got it just in time. Everything went superbly at the studio so I was out before 2200. Helsinki is buzzing, a hot late summer night, everyone dressed in summer clothes, the noise, the singing, dancing, the flirting and offers of drinks, all made me feel so happy.

Then I remembered.

Of course I'm happy - even after a wasp sting followed by four hours of slog under the mics.

I live in the happiest country in the world.

With the world's most beautiful women.

And me - smack dab in the proverbial.

I see another few unwary tourists got it in the neck in Dublin city centre last night.

Now that has to sting, eh.

 

[Electricity]

Of course you aren't.

Why wouldn't I be?

The term 'jibby-jab' makes me want to reach in through my computer screen and grab you by your scrawny little neck and twist it until you shit your pants and piss your y-fronts. You complete fucking twat.

I guess you're entitled to be an internet tuff guy

The apteeki is fifteen meters away, why wouldn't I go to the most hygienic area of the mall?

Older ladies, Jambo.

The delightful one who tended to me was very sweet and I'm grateful so when I go shopping later on I'll buy her some flowers from the florist next door to her workplace. I can imagine how confused you must be at the thought of an Irishman entering a store and being treated like royalty (even when dressed in my rather shabby and paint-stained work overalls) when your local experiences are mostly watching knackers from the inner city and gangs of your 'new arrivals' trying to boot the doors of the 7/11 in so they can rob all the vodka and red bull. Maybe smash the Pakistani sales assistant's head in with a crowbar, film it happening, run for cover, and post the event on TikTok.

That's Dublin for you.

Helsinki?

'Hi, I've just been stung here in my left hand by an angry wasp, can you remove it for me please - I have to be in a recording studio in ninety minutes and don't have my glasses with me to see the stinger clearly to remove it effectively'.

Please, Sir - take a seat here.

'Kiitos paljon'.

Ei mittan.

Goes out back, returns moments later with a tray full of items, selects the tweezers, disinfects them, washes the area around the stinger, then plucks it out. We both look at the size of the damned thing and she smiles sweetly: 'all fixed now' she says. Pats me on the head and wishes me a good evening at the studio.

Did she give you a lollipop?

'Kiitos, kiitos - olet enkeli'

Moi-moi.

Me-me? Figures

And away she goes with her little tray and I leave nursing my hand with a clean tissue soaked in disinfectant. At home I used ice cubes to freeze the wound area, waited an hour to see if it was going to swell up, watched as it developed a strong stinging itch and then knew it wasn't going to explode, we got it just in time. Everything went superbly at the studio so I was out before 2200. Helsinki is buzzing, a hot late summer night, everyone dressed in summer clothes, the noise, the singing, dancing, the flirting and offers of drinks, all made me feel so happy.

Well I suppose you should make the most of the summer. Or the brief thaw as you call it in Finland.

Then I remembered.

Of course I'm happy - even after a wasp sting followed by four hours of slog under the mics.

I live in the happiest country in the world.

With the world's most beautiful women.

Did you bring any back to the flah?

And me - smack dab in the proverbial.

I see another few unwary tourists got it in the neck in Dublin city centre last night.

Now that has to sting, eh.

Didn't hear about dat but speaking of Pakistani sales assistants, did you see this from your old stomping ground? -

Late Stage Ireland

Twitter: Michael O'Keefe Foreigner suspected of exposing himself to children in Ballyfermot, Dublin.

t.me

Are you going to write about it in your Ballyer Gazette?

 

[Mowl]

Why wouldn't I be?

Be?

Out of bed at one in the afternoon?

I guess you're entitled to be an internet tuff guy

Well, you've been an interesting tutor.

Did she give you a lollipop?

Her smile and assistance was more than enough.

Don't you just wish you were surrounded by such nice people?

Me-me? Figures

'Moy-moy' - phonetically at least.

Well I suppose you should make the most of the summer. Or the brief thaw as you call it in Finland.

Indeed - it separates the boys from the men.

Or in your case 'petulant child'.

Did you bring any back to the flah?

Nah, I was working last night.

Tonight?

Ahh, yes.

Didn't hear about dat but speaking of Pakistani sales assistants, did you see this from your old stomping ground? -

See what?

Your link?

Guess what I'm going to say next and you win three monkey nuts and a bag of gooze-gobs.

Late Stage Ireland

Twitter: Michael O'Keefe Foreigner suspected of exposing himself to children in Ballyfermot, Dublin.

t.me

Ah - a Telegram.

I see.

Next?

Are you going to write about it in your Ballyer Gazette?

Nah, sure they already know what I'd have to say about it.

How about you?

Going to sit there and point out all the things about Ireland that you hate in the vague hope I might be offended or maybe even curious? Doesn't work like that, Jimmy. I mean, do you think it ought to be for me to highlight the lousy state of affairs in Dublin and around the bogs instead of you doing it? It's you who has to live with it, kid. It's your territory, not mine. Although Ballyer loves me dearly, I still wouldn't be hopping on a plane to come back and fix up the things maybe you and your fellow white supremacist chums ought to be fixing yourself.

I get to see all these things that bother you about Ireland.

From a different and far more incisive perspective, that is.

I also see that you're entirely inactive as a person with strong opinions on things. See, the thing about your strong feelings is that they don't change or affect anything in the real world. They're just pipe-dreams, notions that help you pass the time without feeling entirely hopeless and suicidal. That's the thing with you loons: you shout, yell, stamp your feet, scream, then go out back and make a cup of tea. Nothing happens. Nothing changes. It's doesn't evolve into anything more in the real world as it doesn't really matter, you can think what you like. As can a mongrel mutt dreaming of a late night lock-in in the butcher's shop.

Not only that, you'll continue to whoop and yell about these principles as though your imparting them to others might make any of us see the world as you do. All your ideas come from the same place. You're a 100% Paddy whether from the city or the Burren. You tried to surround yourself with other like-minded Paddies over the last couple of years, and every one of them dumped you like yesterday's red top lying in a puddle of piss and rain. You can't even assemble a few other members to join your infamous 'A Team' - it's still just you channeling Woods/Gollum/Marvin.

I mean, if you were getting paid to do what you're doing, then maybe I could see at least a little sense in your activities.

But you're actually doing this because you believe it all.

And just like Plonker over on Arsefield's, all you do is post links to other fake intellectuals.

A crypto middleman, a conduit to all the fruits and bounties from the belly and arse of the intersnots.

Anyway, tell us: do you reckon your pal Woods likes my new avatar?

 

[Electricity]

Be?

Out of bed at one in the afternoon?



Well, you've been an interesting tutor.



Her smile and assistance was more than enough.

Don't you just wish you were surrounded by such nice people?



'Moy-moy' - phonetically at least.



Indeed - it separates the boys from the men.

Or in your case 'petulant child'.



Nah, I was working last night.

Tonight?

Ahh, yes.

See what?

Your link?

Guess what I'm going to say next and you win three monkey nuts and a bag of gooze-gobs.

Ah - a Telegram.

I see.

Next?

Nah, sure they already know what I'd have to say about it.

Say about what?

How about you?

Going to sit there and point out all the things about Ireland that you hate in the vague hope I might be offended or maybe even curious? Doesn't work like that, Jimmy. I mean, do you think it ought to be for me to highlight the lousy state of affairs in Dublin and around the bogs instead of you doing it? It's you who has to live with it, kid. It's your territory, not mine. Although Ballyer loves me dearly, I still wouldn't be hopping on a plane to come back and fix up the things maybe you and your fellow white supremacist chums ought to be fixing yourself.

I get to see all these things that bother you about Ireland.

From a different and far more incisive perspective, that is.

I also see that you're entirely inactive as a person with strong opinions on things. See, the thing about your strong feelings is that they don't change or affect anything in the real world. They're just pipe-dreams, notions that help you pass the time without feeling entirely hopeless and suicidal. That's the thing with you loons: you shout, yell, stamp your feet, scream, then go out back and make a cup of tea. Nothing happens. Nothing changes. It's doesn't evolve into anything more in the real world as it doesn't really matter, you can think what you like. As can a mongrel mutt dreaming of a late night lock-in in the butcher's shop.

Not only that, you'll continue to whoop and yell about these principles as though your imparting them to others might make any of us see the world as you do. All your ideas come from the same place. You're a 100% Paddy whether from the city or the Burren. You tried to surround yourself with other like-minded Paddies over the last couple of years, and every one of them dumped you like yesterday's red top lying in a puddle of piss and rain. You can't even assemble a few other members to join your infamous 'A Team' - it's still just you channeling Woods/Gollum/Marvin.

I mean, if you were getting paid to do what you're doing, then maybe I could see at least a little sense in your activities.

But you're actually doing this because you believe it all.

And just like Plonker over on Arsefield's, all you do is post links to other fake intellectuals.

A crypto middleman, a conduit to all the fruits and bounties from the belly and arse of the intersnots.

Anyway, tell us: do you reckon your pal Woods likes my new avatar?

 

[Mowl]

Your Ma.

 

[Electricity]

Your Ma.

Mowl, what if, instead of - foreigner exposing himself to kids in Ballyfermot, it said - foreigner stabs granny in Ballyfermot. And unbeknownst to you (and me) it was YOUR MA! Which you would have known if you had clicked on the link (but you never click on my links). And now because you didn't, you're none the wiser as your ma passes away in hospital crying out for you. How would you feel then?

 

[Mowl]

Mowl, what if, instead of - foreigner exposing himself to kids in Ballyfermot, it said - foreigner stabs granny in Ballyfermot.

Then my contacts on the ground would alert me immediately; you forget that my Mam is a highly respected lady in our community (and more than adequately protected) so it wouldn't be one or two persons alerting me, it'd be dozens.

At that point I could - if I chose to, advise the hunting down and giving the knifer exactly what he deserves, street justice first, then the legal route.

But I don't have to worry about such trite suggestions becoming real.

And unbeknownst to you (and me) it was YOUR MA!

Again, I don't need to look out for her.

I currently have 8,476 members more than willing to keep me in the loop.

Which you would have known if you had clicked on the link (but you never click on my links).

And therein lies the rub, Jimmy.

It's you who isolates yourself by wearing other men's shoes.

And now because you didn't, you're none the wiser as your ma passes away in hospital crying out for you.

My Mam is not allowed to enter any hospital unless accompanied by one or more of my siblings.

Couldn't happen.

How would you feel then?

Same as I do now: nonchalant.

If I did truly feel/know that anyone was about to do something terrible to any family members of mine, then it'd take around two text messages to get the right people to deal with the situation post haste. Ballyer's divided up into tiny regions peopled by different types of neighbours. Two blocks along one street may have different operations to any other few blocks elsewhere. But even so, they're all connected - we all know each other's business.

So of the eight and a half thousand members of the BBBB, any number can be where they need to be in minutes.

Quicker than cops, and far quicker than emergency services.

Ballyer's seventy years old. Many generations of the same families still have strong roots there. There are two churches I'm aware of: the Assumption and another further out to upper Ballyfermot. These two churches cater for several hundred persons at a time for mass. But after mass? That's when the real magic happens. Word of everything going on via the grapevine assembles people and solutions are discussed. Say it's a local burglar? When the thief is clocked, he isn't told. His parents will be told first - after mass at the gossiping gates. After the rat bastards family have been informed, the thief in their ranks has to wait and see what happens next. It's not immediate. It can take a while - but the longer he's left waiting, the more sweet the finished project.

Communities like ours may be cash poor, but we're rich in other things.

Yeah, of course there are exceptions: drunks, junkies, wasters, violent types, thieves, burglars, car thieves, etc: if they steal from their neighbours, then they all get theirs eventually - and usually out of the blue.

Ever been a part of a community, Jimmy?

No?

Just 'The A Team' isn't it.

Not much to cling to for the likes of you in times like these, eh Jambo?

Just Woolsey/Cromwell/Mandrake - your Telegram heroes.

What's your biggest regret about choosing your last three team mates for the A Team?

What specific criteria (if any) did you use?

 

[Electricity]

Then my contacts on the ground would alert me immediately; you forget that my Mam is a highly respected lady in our community (and more than adequately protected) so it wouldn't be one or two persons alerting me, it'd be dozens.

At that point I could - if I chose to, advise the hunting down and giving the knifer exactly what he deserves, street justice first, then the legal route.

But I don't have to worry about such trite suggestions becoming real.



Again, I don't need to look out for her.

I currently have 8,476 members more than willing to keep me in the loop.



And therein lies the rub, Jimmy.

It's you who isolates yourself by wearing other men's shoes.



My Mam is not allowed to enter any hospital unless accompanied by one or more of my siblings.

Couldn't happen.



Same as I do now: nonchalant.

If I did truly feel/know that anyone was about to do something terrible to any family members of mine, then it'd take around two text messages to get the right people to deal with the situation post haste. Ballyer's divided up into tiny regions peopled by different types of neighbours. Two blocks along one street may have different operations to any other few blocks elsewhere. But even so, they're all connected - we all know each other's business.

So of the eight and a half thousand members of the BBBB, any number can be where they need to be in minutes.

Quicker than cops, and far quicker than emergency services.

Ballyer's seventy years old. Many generations of the same families still have strong roots there. There are two churches I'm aware of: the Assumption and another further out to upper Ballyfermot. These two churches cater for several hundred persons at a time for mass. But after mass? That's when the real magic happens. Word of everything going on via the grapevine assembles people and solutions are discussed. Say it's a local burglar? When the thief is clocked, he isn't told. His parents will be told first - after mass at the gossiping gates. After the rat bastards family have been informed, the thief in their ranks has to wait and see what happens next. It's not immediate. It can take a while - but the longer he's left waiting, the more sweet the finished project.

Communities like ours may be cash poor, but we're rich in other things.

Yeah, of course there are exceptions: drunks, junkies, wasters, violent types, thieves, burglars, car thieves, etc: if they steal from their neighbours, then they all get theirs eventually - and usually out of the blue.

Ever been a part of a community, Jimmy?

No?

Just 'The A Team' isn't it.

Not much to cling to for the likes of you in times like these, eh Jambo?

Just Woolsey/Cromwell/Mandrake - your Telegram heroes.

What's your biggest regret about choosing your last three team mates for the A Team?

What specific criteria (if any) did you use?

Mowl, how can you claim to be part of a community when you don't even care about pervs and paedos in your area, well, not if they're brown that is. If it's a white guy (priest) that's different.. but a foreigner and you look the other way.

I tell ya, roc_abilly has done some job on you.

 

[Electricity]

 

[Mowl]

Mowl, how can you claim to be part of a community when you don't even care about pervs and paedos in your area,

My area? My area is Arabia, Helsinki - not Dublin 10, Jambo. I haven't lived in Ireland for over thirty years, you dumb fucker. It's YOUR area, you utter fucking gobdaw. But you don't care about that, right? You care about supporting a few similiar right-wing thickos AND being seen to be in support of them.

Did you think that anybody who used to live in one of Ireland's toughest ghettos and got out has to go back every time some sicko pulls a stunt on YOUR watch? You want ME to clean up YOUR mess? No wonder you're a laughing stock across all these boards. You're not just a shambolic follower, you're a sell-out. You sit around at home day after day with your phone in your hand and your scrawny neck hunched over, dodging work, moaning about everything that's wrong with Ireland, but never doing anything about it - bar moaning to me about it online.

Which area of Ireland are you in anyway?

well, not if they're brown that is.

Many of the priests and christian brothers were also black, Jambo.

How does THAT fit your narrative?

If it's a white guy (priest) that's different..

Yes, because that DID happen on my watch.

And guess what?

As a child I gave evidence against them, and guess what then?

Yeps, and they're still locked up.

On my watch - at that time.

You?

You have nothing.

but a foreigner and you look the other way.

But I am a foreigner, you dumb cunt. A Finnish-passport holding handsome Caucasian Irish male living the high life in the Finnish capital, in her highest ranking area to live in across the entire nation. But before I left the blighted little shithole of Ireland, I made sure I had done what I needed to - long before these boards were even dreamed up. Me, and my family. And what do YOU do? You managed to find the shittiest, dampest, most rat-infested areas of the entire global internet and dived straight in to deep end - feet first.

Look at you now, you living failure of your dead Ma's womb?

Look at the fucking STATE of you?

You're a fucking shambles, Jimmy - a train crash of inability and weakness.

I tell ya, roc_abilly has done some job on you.

Your dead Ma should have strangled you with her fanny-flaps while she still had a chance - right at your entrance to this world.

She should have left you in the abortion bucket for the hospital bin-men to dispose of: drop your useless little self into a land-fill for the rats to feed off. It would have been her last and parting gift to the world - dying of sepsis caused by the bile that runs through you: shutting you up before you even started to mumble your loser-speak and shit your nappies for her. It never ceases to amaze me the shit you come out with most weekends - and in YOUR case, pretty much every weekend in at home alone - online, drunk, looking for a sucker to listen to your patented bullshit.

If that bloke who did some dirt in Ballyer is bothering you - why are you talking to me about it? Why aren't you assembling The A Team with Saul Bucket?

I did my time, and I did what I needed to do.

You're still waiting for your dead Ma to come back and hug you feed you, and tell you what to do.

I'd bet if she's looking down on you right now she must fucking HATE herself.

Quite a legacy, that.

 

[Electricity]

Be?

Out of bed at one in the afternoon?



Well, you've been an interesting tutor.



Her smile and assistance was more than enough.

Don't you just wish you were surrounded by such nice people?



'Moy-moy' - phonetically at least.



Indeed - it separates the boys from the men.

Or in your case 'petulant child'.

Nah, I was working last night.

Tonight?

Ahh, yes.

You don't sound like you woke up beside a lady friend this morning Mowl, what happened?

See what?

Your link?

Guess what I'm going to say next and you win three monkey nuts and a bag of gooze-gobs.



Ah - a Telegram.

I see.

Next?



Nah, sure they already know what I'd have to say about it.

How about you?

Going to sit there and point out all the things about Ireland that you hate in the vague hope I might be offended or maybe even curious? Doesn't work like that, Jimmy. I mean, do you think it ought to be for me to highlight the lousy state of affairs in Dublin and around the bogs instead of you doing it? It's you who has to live with it, kid. It's your territory, not mine. Although Ballyer loves me dearly, I still wouldn't be hopping on a plane to come back and fix up the things maybe you and your fellow white supremacist chums ought to be fixing yourself.

I get to see all these things that bother you about Ireland.

From a different and far more incisive perspective, that is.

I also see that you're entirely inactive as a person with strong opinions on things. See, the thing about your strong feelings is that they don't change or affect anything in the real world. They're just pipe-dreams, notions that help you pass the time without feeling entirely hopeless and suicidal. That's the thing with you loons: you shout, yell, stamp your feet, scream, then go out back and make a cup of tea. Nothing happens. Nothing changes. It's doesn't evolve into anything more in the real world as it doesn't really matter, you can think what you like. As can a mongrel mutt dreaming of a late night lock-in in the butcher's shop.

Not only that, you'll continue to whoop and yell about these principles as though your imparting them to others might make any of us see the world as you do. All your ideas come from the same place. You're a 100% Paddy whether from the city or the Burren. You tried to surround yourself with other like-minded Paddies over the last couple of years, and every one of them dumped you like yesterday's red top lying in a puddle of piss and rain. You can't even assemble a few other members to join your infamous 'A Team' - it's still just you channeling Woods/Gollum/Marvin.

I mean, if you were getting paid to do what you're doing, then maybe I could see at least a little sense in your activities.

But you're actually doing this because you believe it all.

And just like Plonker over on Arsefield's, all you do is post links to other fake intellectuals.

A crypto middleman, a conduit to all the fruits and bounties from the belly and arse of the intersnots.

Anyway, tell us: do you reckon your pal Woods likes my new avatar?

 

[Electricity]

 

[Electricity]

Some modern day examples.

 

[Mowl]

You don't sound like you woke up beside a lady friend this morning Mowl, what happened?

Ahh, you're awake at last.

Lazy useless cunt.

'Seven questions and six days of waiting later and what's Jambo up to, class?'

'Is it posting memes, Sir'?

'Good lad - you get a silver star'.

'..and Jambo can go fuck his dead Ma's corpse, Sir'.

'A gold star too. Now, who's this lad in this photograph and what's he doing?'



'Is it Jimmy 'Jambo' Dawson, Sir? The 'Jibby-Jab' twat with the dead Ma? Avoiding answering any questions, Sir?'

'Correct again'.

...

..

.

 

[Electricity]

Ahh, you're awake at last.

Lazy useless cunt.

'Seven questions and six days of waiting later and what's Jambo up to, class?'

Mowl, I promise you that I'll get to the "chess thread" later today..bear with me (although I see that you were up early this morning posting walls of hate at 0800 hours)

'Is it posting memes, Sir'?

Memes?

I suppose I did make a bit of a meme out of it myself. I had seen both images on Telegram - separately, and I thought I'd post the first one on its own and then the second one in reply to David's post (first image). Can you see how they're connected? The old one-two combo, a memebo, if you will

'Good lad - you get a silver star'.

'..and Jambo can go fuck his dead Ma's corpse, Sir'.

'A gold star too. Now, who's this lad in this photograph and what's he doing?'



'Is it Jimmy 'Jambo' Dawson, Sir? The 'Jibby-Jab' twat with the dead Ma? Avoiding answering any questions, Sir?'

'Correct again'.

...

..

.

 

[Mowl]

Mowl, I promise you that I'll get to the "chess thread" later today..bear with me (although I see that you were up early this morning posting walls of hate at 0800 hours)

You may recall I was stung by a wasp on Friday evening.

Right into the soft flesh between the thumb and index of my left hand.

Intense stinging and swelling regardless, I went to the studio and worked until I couldn't go on. It caused even more swelling and kept me awake for most of the weekend. Bummer. But what can one do?

Memes?

No thanks - I have plenty of them to ignore already.

I suppose I did make a bit of a meme out of it myself. I had seen both images on Telegram

The source of all your er, 'wisdom'.

- separately, and I thought I'd post the first one on its own and then the second one in reply to David's post (first image).

What?

Fuck off.

Can you see how they're connected?

Nope.

Indeed.

The old one-two combo, a memebo, if you will

But I won't.

 

[Lumpy Von Talbot]

Mongo. Now this is for your own good, mind. Shut up.