Hi, girls! How's the craic down there under musty old Declan's wrinkled straw-balls? You guys are the
easiest shower of half-wits to trigger EVER! I guess that's how it's always been but lately something in the chemistry between the whole five or six of you over there has caused even the usually rather timid Saul Bucket to start foaming at the mouth seeking The Mowl's blood.
I love your posts about me. You all start out with the same tired old line:
'
Now, I don't recall ever talking to the Mowl and I avoid his posts like the plague, but hear me out: he's a narcissistic and unbearable bastard who does blah, blah, blah so I think that he's blah, blah, blah'. Even Declan cracks under the strain of being called roundy and having his site users exposed to the sad reality of his being at his wife's beck and call due to living in a house SHE inherited and he didn't pay squat for. Worse than that again is that for the last few years of his wife's mother's existence, the wife worked out of home while Declan 'took care' of his mother-in-law.
Changing her diapers, bed-bathing her, cooking for her, cleaning the sheets when she pissed them, brushing her teeth for her, and of course the regular house-wife's chores like doing the laundry for the whole family. Vacuuming the floors. Polishing the windows and ironing the lace curtains that only cover the bottom half of the window - a style/fad pretty much exclusive to the Boston Irish who think it's cute. He loads the dishwasher and unloads it again later. Cooks the dinner and gets the lunch sorted for the kid's lunch next day.
Then herself gets home and he has a bit of time for himself. She has dinner in front of the telly and he's on Arsefield's asking you saps what the Mowl's been up to lately. He wants you to think he has anything better to do. He doesn't. His whole life is a lie. His degree in 'engineering'? He was a barman in a dive bar, you saps. He wants you to believe he used to own the place - but says he made his money and got out to become a van driver.
Are you lot completely fucking stupid?
Who studies engineering for four years, packs up and heads west, gets a job as a barman and meets a some fake ninth generation Irish woman next in line to a dodgy wooden property in Dedham, marries and settles down, never has to pay rent, lives by his wife's generosity, and spends cash money hosting a shower of fucking idiots like you lot? Are you fucking KIDDING me? Pahahahaaaaaaa! You sad bastards - you bought his whole schpiel hook, line, and sinker! You're fucking hilarious, lads. A right comedy show. The site you use consists of two things:
(1) Declan lying about everything - one spoof after another.
(2) Wolf's fascination with pedophiles - he sees pedophiles everywhere, except where they actually are.
Apart from that? Fuck all, just the sad sight of you all LIKING posts from utter morons like Clark~~Connolly or Coal/Piss/Juice. It doesn't get any lower on the scale of denominators than that. Wolf has around 65,000 posts - all of them about pedophiles and pedophilia. Conclusion? He was raped as a child. Is still angry because the issue remains secret and unresolved. Has to accuse everyone else of being a pedophile because he enjoyed getting buggered. It wreaks havoc on his conscience. Went to the States last week for the shopping. Calls others who left to live abroad traitors while he spends his money in New York on cheaper shoes and coats, bigger cheeseburgers and longer cars. Classic tiny penis syndrome.
But sure yiz are only gas.
Especially Roundy: he asked you the other day what I was up to recently and without anyone answering him, he wrote a few paragraphs about my latest shennanigans whilst trying to convince you that the first thing he doesn't do when going online is to check how much bigger the new arse I ripped him has gotten overnight. Only a complete idiot would believe a spoofer of Declan's scale.
'I never read Mowl - ever. I hate him though. But I never read about his life to try to find things to throw at him. I just make guesses..'
The most important thing in Declan's life is being talked about by YOU.
And me - especially me.
Why else would any man hand over $1,150+ per year for four years to have someone -
anyone - to talk to?
That's the single saddest thing I ever heard.
And you fucking twats kiss his arse for him?
Pahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Ah, here: that's just way too funny: so my lady and I are going to settle into a nice hot sauna which will be followed by Bellini's followed by a nice pasta sauce I made last night and has been gathering flavour ever since. I'll leave you dumb fuckers to your pedophile postage and other racist bile from Saul. Oh, and you can tell Myles not to bother dropping by: I gave up on that waster long ago.
He makes Saul appear reasonably intelligent.
