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D
Deleted member 79
Guest
This is a question I once put to my pupil, Dan. He was new to America at the time so still unsure about how things worked.
This was when I took Dan under my wing.
WHAT IS THE AMERICAN DREAM? I ask Dan.
I'll tell you what the American Dream is, I said.
In America any man can become wealthy if he works hard enough.In America any man can become wealthy if he puts his mind down to it.
There is no such thing as a free lunch, don't expect anybody to help you.
Pick a good health insurer. Don't expect anybody else to pay your medical bills.
Reject Socialism. Reject Communism. Embrace the free market. Embrace the constitution.
A man's right to bear arms is sacred. Be prepared to defend this right including against the government.
Never trust the government. They seek power, not to govern with the people in mind.
Every American should enjoy the freedom to spend and do with his money as he sees fit. The government has no right to steal your hard earned dollars.
The pursuit of happiness is not a right, buddy. It has to be earned.
Within time Dan became the embodiment of the American Dream. Prospering and standing tall against government tyranny.
This is why Communists and Socialists need to listen to guys like me. You too could be prosperous and free if only you rejected statist ideology and government tyranny.
Socialism doesn't work. Embrace freedom today and never look back.
This was when I took Dan under my wing.
WHAT IS THE AMERICAN DREAM? I ask Dan.
I'll tell you what the American Dream is, I said.
In America any man can become wealthy if he works hard enough.In America any man can become wealthy if he puts his mind down to it.
There is no such thing as a free lunch, don't expect anybody to help you.
Pick a good health insurer. Don't expect anybody else to pay your medical bills.
Reject Socialism. Reject Communism. Embrace the free market. Embrace the constitution.
A man's right to bear arms is sacred. Be prepared to defend this right including against the government.
Never trust the government. They seek power, not to govern with the people in mind.
Every American should enjoy the freedom to spend and do with his money as he sees fit. The government has no right to steal your hard earned dollars.
The pursuit of happiness is not a right, buddy. It has to be earned.
Within time Dan became the embodiment of the American Dream. Prospering and standing tall against government tyranny.
This is why Communists and Socialists need to listen to guys like me. You too could be prosperous and free if only you rejected statist ideology and government tyranny.
Socialism doesn't work. Embrace freedom today and never look back.
D
Deleted member 79
Guest
USA #1 
Mowl
Member
First off - let's be clear who 'Dan' is: he's the owner and sponsor of Arsefield's Virtual Bar using his real world name, Declan Kelly.
A small and roundy man from Ballinspittle now resident in some wooden shack off the interstate at the edge of Dedham, Boston: true home of Irish hip-hop.
Rather elderly, wizened, white-haired and married with four children, he left Galway on the coffin-ships and got a job serving pints in a gay dive bar in Quincy.
He claimed at one stage to have a degree in engineering but has never said from where or shown his certificates (most proud people frame and hang their major awards earned on the wall of either the office or else the home) but Kelly has no such certificates in any location. He's a well-known spoofer who likes to wind people up about all of his 'great successes' and indeed his heavier and more sinister side which he refers to as 'visiting' any persons who offend him. To 'visit' someone is, in Boston Irish parlance, showing up unexpected at someone's front door and attacking them as soon as they open it. The 'visit' ends when the person being 'visited' is bleeding, bruised, and begging to be left be. In return for ending the 'visit' the person visited must promise to never offend the roundy little spoofer again.
He claims to have 'visited' people in Boston, as well as flying back to Ireland to 'visit' some people there too.
His other passion in life is cheeseburgers - in large numbers.
Declan drives a van. He picks people up and charges them a small fee ($120 per/day) for driving them around all these car parks and delivery bays, pointing out the streets signs and the indicators of the off-ramps. He blathers on in this drony voice that'd put a statue to sleep, 'and here we can see the main entrance to IKEA's newest branch in Lexington - over there you can see the former home of the guy who created the Miss Piggy puppet for the Muppet Show'. All spoofs too.
Old age pensioners use his services most because it's cheaper than getting an ambulance to take them to hospital if they fall and break a hip.
Declan likes to spoof the membership of his forum with tales of great wealth, more money than anyone could spend in a lifetime. Yet his dress sense includes decades-old zipper-necked cardigans, short-sleeved shirts and clip-on bow-ties, well worn slacks that he irons every morning and puts on again, patent leather shoes polished up like mirrors and usually has a refillable flask for sweetened milky coffee which he gets refilled for free every time he stops for donuts and cakes. He's extremely rotund and looks like a heart attack on legs, yet he claims to be on a starvation diet for the last two weeks because the Mowl pointed out how short and fat he actually is by posting a picture of him on a happy day out in the van trying out new burger options around Southie and Concorde.
He says he takes two ten-mile walks a day, in a country where nobody in their right mind ever walks any-fucking-where. Recent investigations of the Mowl's reveal that there are a number of cheeseburger joints within an exact ten mile radius of his current address. Sorry - his wife's address - as it was she inherited the house Declan lives in back in 1998 when her mother died after a long illness. The wife works out of the home morning until night Monday to Friday so it was Declan who tended to the old dear most of the time: changing her soiled nappies, bed-bathing her, bringing her her tea and medications, and generally just sitting around listening to her going on and on about her past life and all her great adventures. The poor old dear was totally demented though and hadn't a clue who Declan or why he was always pulling off her manky knickerbockers and giving her fresh ones. Plus: nobody knows what happened to any of those pairs of knickers. No trace was ever found of them again.
Declan has a rather large ego: this has caused him to think that his lifetime achievements warrant his face to be printed on a new one cent coin.
He's been talking about his one cent 'coin' for a number of years now - but as yet nobody has ever seen one.
This is typical of Kelly's general demeanour: he has a severe short-man complex (not exactly Napoleonic) and was treated very badly in school as a child. He never recovered from the bullying and he dragged his shame with him on his departure from Ireland to the Great Big Beyonder that is modern America. Being small and roundy, he's the coin that fits every slot machine in the entire country. The small change from the cheeseburger van. The decimal point in his tax returns. He's tried platform shoes and extra-long flared slacks to try and do a 'Prince' on it, but being so roundy makes him topple over at times. He's a perfectly symmetrical circle when viewed from the front. But catch him from the side? His massive protruding gut hangs over his pants-belt and makes him lean and slump permanently forward - which also helps his overall speed when on a twice-daily ten-mile trek to the cheeseburger joint that serves them with extra pineapple.
He has a rather Jewish attitude to money. Except for one small problem: he doesn't have any and it's this which causes him to keep yapping and spoofing about how much of it he has. Being so small and roundy, he can only accept paper money - coins would cause him to topple over, and like Humpty-Dumpty, they'll never put him back together again. I suggested he carry his vast wealth in a common rucksack on his back to counter the weight of his fat gut. He made some excuses as to why that would never work but we all know it's because all he'd put into the rucksack is the wrappers from his cheeseburgers ('collect ten wrappers and receive one free cheeseburger' gets him every time).
Declan would like to be younger. Slimmer. More vital. Of some purpose, any purpose.
But life has passed him by and nowadays he lives mostly online, spoofing the gobshites on his site which costs him $1,390 per year (for four years equals around five and a half grandgrand) for a basic Xenforo package with minimal data storage. He spends that much so he can stay in touch with the latest insights from Wolfie and Jambo, his only pals. His wife Marianne doesn't know he spends the household cash on his plaything, she's a very busy woman who works very hard to make sure the kids have shoes and a fried chicken box every other day. That one and a half grand could have been used for a session of fat removal down at the 'beauty clinic' behind the WalMart car park. If they were to suck out half of the fat in Declan's gut they could solve the world hunger problems by lunchtime.
One should never actually say the word 'lunchtime' to Declan because if he happens to be driving when he hears it, then everyone in the van is fucked.
The rules of the road mean nothing to Kelly on a cheeseburger(s) quest.
Living in the Land Of The Free to Declan means his constitutional right to extra fries and super-sized cheeseburgers is written in stone: many died for that right and he has no intention of letting anyone forget it either. Every man has a right to bear cheeseburgers. Every man is entitled to lie about how many he's had. Every man is free to pursue the dream of the American cheeseburger. This is all in the 'De Constitution'.
So, now we're up to speed.
As you were saying before I so rudely interrupted you?
A small and roundy man from Ballinspittle now resident in some wooden shack off the interstate at the edge of Dedham, Boston: true home of Irish hip-hop.
Rather elderly, wizened, white-haired and married with four children, he left Galway on the coffin-ships and got a job serving pints in a gay dive bar in Quincy.
He claimed at one stage to have a degree in engineering but has never said from where or shown his certificates (most proud people frame and hang their major awards earned on the wall of either the office or else the home) but Kelly has no such certificates in any location. He's a well-known spoofer who likes to wind people up about all of his 'great successes' and indeed his heavier and more sinister side which he refers to as 'visiting' any persons who offend him. To 'visit' someone is, in Boston Irish parlance, showing up unexpected at someone's front door and attacking them as soon as they open it. The 'visit' ends when the person being 'visited' is bleeding, bruised, and begging to be left be. In return for ending the 'visit' the person visited must promise to never offend the roundy little spoofer again.
He claims to have 'visited' people in Boston, as well as flying back to Ireland to 'visit' some people there too.
His other passion in life is cheeseburgers - in large numbers.
Declan drives a van. He picks people up and charges them a small fee ($120 per/day) for driving them around all these car parks and delivery bays, pointing out the streets signs and the indicators of the off-ramps. He blathers on in this drony voice that'd put a statue to sleep, 'and here we can see the main entrance to IKEA's newest branch in Lexington - over there you can see the former home of the guy who created the Miss Piggy puppet for the Muppet Show'. All spoofs too.
Old age pensioners use his services most because it's cheaper than getting an ambulance to take them to hospital if they fall and break a hip.
Declan likes to spoof the membership of his forum with tales of great wealth, more money than anyone could spend in a lifetime. Yet his dress sense includes decades-old zipper-necked cardigans, short-sleeved shirts and clip-on bow-ties, well worn slacks that he irons every morning and puts on again, patent leather shoes polished up like mirrors and usually has a refillable flask for sweetened milky coffee which he gets refilled for free every time he stops for donuts and cakes. He's extremely rotund and looks like a heart attack on legs, yet he claims to be on a starvation diet for the last two weeks because the Mowl pointed out how short and fat he actually is by posting a picture of him on a happy day out in the van trying out new burger options around Southie and Concorde.
He says he takes two ten-mile walks a day, in a country where nobody in their right mind ever walks any-fucking-where. Recent investigations of the Mowl's reveal that there are a number of cheeseburger joints within an exact ten mile radius of his current address. Sorry - his wife's address - as it was she inherited the house Declan lives in back in 1998 when her mother died after a long illness. The wife works out of the home morning until night Monday to Friday so it was Declan who tended to the old dear most of the time: changing her soiled nappies, bed-bathing her, bringing her her tea and medications, and generally just sitting around listening to her going on and on about her past life and all her great adventures. The poor old dear was totally demented though and hadn't a clue who Declan or why he was always pulling off her manky knickerbockers and giving her fresh ones. Plus: nobody knows what happened to any of those pairs of knickers. No trace was ever found of them again.
Declan has a rather large ego: this has caused him to think that his lifetime achievements warrant his face to be printed on a new one cent coin.
He's been talking about his one cent 'coin' for a number of years now - but as yet nobody has ever seen one.
This is typical of Kelly's general demeanour: he has a severe short-man complex (not exactly Napoleonic) and was treated very badly in school as a child. He never recovered from the bullying and he dragged his shame with him on his departure from Ireland to the Great Big Beyonder that is modern America. Being small and roundy, he's the coin that fits every slot machine in the entire country. The small change from the cheeseburger van. The decimal point in his tax returns. He's tried platform shoes and extra-long flared slacks to try and do a 'Prince' on it, but being so roundy makes him topple over at times. He's a perfectly symmetrical circle when viewed from the front. But catch him from the side? His massive protruding gut hangs over his pants-belt and makes him lean and slump permanently forward - which also helps his overall speed when on a twice-daily ten-mile trek to the cheeseburger joint that serves them with extra pineapple.
He has a rather Jewish attitude to money. Except for one small problem: he doesn't have any and it's this which causes him to keep yapping and spoofing about how much of it he has. Being so small and roundy, he can only accept paper money - coins would cause him to topple over, and like Humpty-Dumpty, they'll never put him back together again. I suggested he carry his vast wealth in a common rucksack on his back to counter the weight of his fat gut. He made some excuses as to why that would never work but we all know it's because all he'd put into the rucksack is the wrappers from his cheeseburgers ('collect ten wrappers and receive one free cheeseburger' gets him every time).
Declan would like to be younger. Slimmer. More vital. Of some purpose, any purpose.
But life has passed him by and nowadays he lives mostly online, spoofing the gobshites on his site which costs him $1,390 per year (for four years equals around five and a half grandgrand) for a basic Xenforo package with minimal data storage. He spends that much so he can stay in touch with the latest insights from Wolfie and Jambo, his only pals. His wife Marianne doesn't know he spends the household cash on his plaything, she's a very busy woman who works very hard to make sure the kids have shoes and a fried chicken box every other day. That one and a half grand could have been used for a session of fat removal down at the 'beauty clinic' behind the WalMart car park. If they were to suck out half of the fat in Declan's gut they could solve the world hunger problems by lunchtime.
One should never actually say the word 'lunchtime' to Declan because if he happens to be driving when he hears it, then everyone in the van is fucked.
The rules of the road mean nothing to Kelly on a cheeseburger(s) quest.
Living in the Land Of The Free to Declan means his constitutional right to extra fries and super-sized cheeseburgers is written in stone: many died for that right and he has no intention of letting anyone forget it either. Every man has a right to bear cheeseburgers. Every man is entitled to lie about how many he's had. Every man is free to pursue the dream of the American cheeseburger. This is all in the 'De Constitution'.
So, now we're up to speed.
As you were saying before I so rudely interrupted you?
Mowl
Member
I fucking dare you, you stupid little culchie loser.
You'll never leave the borders of Monaghan, not even up to 'The Big Smoke' for the Easter shopping.
Tell us all: have they incarcerated your forty-three year old habitual criminal burglar of pensioners son yet?
Have the lads on Arsefield's even asked you to clarify my claims or is your little band of rebels over there too fragile to boot you out?
Because you know that if they don't boot you out of their crackpot nationalist gang, then they are - by extension - also guilty of robbing the Irish elderly.
Where in the book of 'All Things Irish Nationalist' does it say that it's okay to be a nationalist AND a burglar of one's neighbours?
Or is it some kind of game you all play with each other like pass the parcel - except in your case it's: pass the stolen goods?
I doubt you even own a passport, you lame-dicked, no-balls-having, scum-sucking rat bastard loser.
handbaggers of the world unite
It's a pity Jimbo wouldn't fuck off back to his spiritual home with the gowl.
www.sarsfieldsvirtualpub.com
Lmfao. So how are you going to do that, feeney and clean?
Glenamaddy
www.garda.ie
handbaggers of the world unite
It's a pity Jimbo wouldn't fuck off back to his spiritual home with the gowl.
www.sarsfieldsvirtualpub.com
Ring Athy Garda Station for what exactly? Am I the one (a) threatening to visit and film people against their will, (b) threatening to spread malicious and untrue gossip concerning innocent parties, (c) harassing other people's family members?
I'd cop on if I were you, because you're heading for one mighty boot up the arse...and a trip to the slammer.
handbaggers of the world unite
It's a pity Jimbo wouldn't fuck off back to his spiritual home with the gowl.
www.sarsfieldsvirtualpub.com
Yeah? And that's where (a) your details become known to the Gardai, who (b) will then be passing your information on to a solicitor, who will (c) have your arse sued off in a court on my behalf for defamation of character and libel.
Mowl
Member
Wazzup? You too poor to buy some stamps or use a public fucking phone box? It's been two years and three months since you started in with that threat. Two fucking years. Three months. And counting? Why not just pick up the phone and call it in? Or spend a fucking euro on a stamp? You told everyone last week that you spent two years of your life collecting information on me and DS. Two years. You spent TWO YEARS of your life creating a file and now that you have it - what's next?
Keep saying the words engineer, Helen, Cleary, Rory, Sandyford and Athy for another few weeks?
Haven't your balls dropped yet?
Two years chasing after me, and what have you got to show for it?
Look, let me save you some time: I live in Arabia, Helsinki - at the terminal of trams 6, 8, 8H, and busses 71, 75, 84, 104, 105H, and 110. My apartment overlooks the bay (of the sea) on one side and the forests to the north. If you look at the map of Helsinki around the bay area you'll see a town called Herttoniemi. That's directly across the bay from my place, I often walk over the ice to do my shopping there in the winter evenings. Rest of the time I use Arabiankauppakeskus. Don't worry, it took me a while to learn to pronounce it too. It's actually three words joined together: Arabia (the name of my town) kauppa (shop) and keskus (centre).
I use that one most days during spring/summer.
If you take any of the trams listed, just sit there until it turns a circle and stops: you're now two minutes from my front door. Getting in requires a door-code. The number is 9909, it'll open and you'll be inside where it's nice and warm. The entire building/block is completely centrally heated, and any warm waste water is pumped through pipes under the pavements to keep them dry and clear of snow, so you won't slip or anything. We use a lot of energy keeping things warm in Finland. I just had my radiators repaired along with everyone else in the two blocks along Arabiankatu. Something screwed the remote thermostats up and we were being given an average of twenty-eight degrees indoors in our apartments and the halls and corridors of the building since last November. The council apologized and compensated us for making our apartments too warm for over three months. The compensation was that we'll see a smaller increase in the annual rent increases than expected. Now it's fixed and we can turn it down when we're too hot.
The saunas are another extremely hot environment. That's sort of how it felt these last few months - the heat was unbearable indoors, we all had our windows and balcony doors wide open at night for better sleep.
Gas isn't it?
A country that apologizes to her tax-paying citizens for making them feel too warm in the depths of the Nordic winter, eh?
Then compensates us as well?
Ever been too hot indoors in Ireland, Sham?
No?
Ah, sure..
Anyway, just walk past Ravintola Olotila - the local pub, and down towards the sea. You're now within sight of my apartment. You know the code to get in, and I'm on the top floor - the one with the best views. It'll be still kind of hot for you compared to Ireland when you're about to knock/ding my bell. But as an Irish person used to the cold and damp, you'll be pleasantly relieved to know that we can also turn the radiators DOWN if the heat's bothering you.
You don't need to bring anything, I have everything I could possibly need to hand already. The tram tickets can be paid at any major junction tram stop. But you can hop on without one and hop off to get one at the next ticket point. Just don't get caught by the penguins. You'll spot them a mile off anyway and they're not at all aggressive if you just hop off and take the next tram, they come every four minutes - like clockwork. You can set your watch by them, if you have a watch.
Quickest and cheapest way from the airport is bus 172, do NOT take the 172H as it goes through the industrial parks and takes forever to get back onto the motorway. Ticket is only €4.00 from the driver. Hop off at Sturenkatu and walk down the hill to Hämeentie, (Tavastvägen in Swedish) you can grab any tram heading north from there and they'll all leave you at the tram terminal down the street.
If local Finnish people greet you, it's considered polite for you to reply.
If someone looks you in the eye and smiles and says 'hyvää päivää' to you (it sounds like: 'hoo-vah pie-ee-vah' phonetically) then to reply 'haista paska! would be appropriate (it sounds like: 'hi-staa paa-ska' phonetically) and acceptable. But don't expect it. Finns are very reserved around strangers, especially if they're armed to the teeth and sweating visibly. If you ask for directions then do so in Finnish, they might not even speak English/grunt/culchie.
So now you know where to find me, just ring the front doorbell and when asked to, say these important code words:
Slattery, Athy, Cleary, Engineer, Kidare, Rory, Rachel, Fox, Mulder, Road, Rage, Wanker
In exactly that order too.
Then you can commence your, err - visit, Mandy.
Diversity, what does it give us?
Diversity, the buzzword so often used by our political elites often hails it as some sort of utopia, progress, and harmony. However, a closer examination reveals that the reality of diversity is far more nuanced, and its purported benefits may not always materialize as expected. Russia for...
www.sarsfieldsvirtualpub.com
Why does a muck savage bogger like you from the Roscommon area care so much about Dublin?
handbaggers of the world unite
It's a pity Jimbo wouldn't fuck off back to his spiritual home with the gowl.
www.sarsfieldsvirtualpub.com
Well, from what I know of him, (a) he never drove a vehicle through the window of the local supermarket, nor (b) assaulted and threatened bar / nightclub staff.
Man fined for abuse of night club staff
Getting rowdy at a city centre night club and giving bouncers the finger during a night out proved to be very expensive for an electrician who was fined for public order offences last week.
www.advertiser.ie
A pity he didn't call Saul that time as he'd have been able to rob half of Lidl before coming to the attention of the cops. If you're going to break into a supermarket in order to rob the cheap lager section, then do it right.
Mowl
Member
It's not that unusual really: most culchies have enormous envy of sophisticated Dubliners.
They think that because we eat with knives and forks that we're 'posh'.
The traditional Irish inferiority complex factor is legend - all over culchie Ireland.
Wasn't that the night he got fucking LOCKED on beer and diet pills and smashed the car through some poor culchie's shopfront?
That Feeney clan aren't just pig-ugly: they're surprisingly stupid as well.
Man fined for abuse of night club staff
Getting rowdy at a city centre night club and giving bouncers the finger during a night out proved to be very expensive for an electrician who was fined for public order offences last week.www.advertiser.ie
A pity he didn't call Saul that time as he'd have been able to rob half of Lidl before coming to the attention of the cops.
The only use Saul Bucket would be in that situation would be as a shoulder to cry on.
Saul CG&P reminds me of Raymond, AKA Rain Man, in that movie.
He carries his little device everywhere he goes - staring at it and laughing at the beep-beep sounds it makes when I slag the cunt for being a useless Da to his rat bastard thieving son who robs all the oldies in Roscommon or whatever shithole he lives in.
The spotty little cunt.
Yeah - dress up as a woman and ram a few shoulders of ham up your skirts and a few gammon-back rashers into your purse.
Oh, yeah: and some spot cream for those zits.
Now that you know where and how to find me - shall I stick on the kettle?
Censorship on Arsefield's.
www.sarsfieldsvirtualpub.com
Diversity, what does it give us?
Did you delete one of my posts, that showed you up, that didn't suit your argument, you prick? Go on and push me. If the administration stands over your behaviour, then they should be prepared to be caught in the cross-fire. You can always post the content of it again minus the grossly...
www.sarsfieldsvirtualpub.com
Diversity, what does it give us?
Did you delete one of my posts, that showed you up, that didn't suit your argument, you prick? Go on and push me. If the administration stands over your behaviour, then they should be prepared to be caught in the cross-fire. You can always post the content of it again minus the grossly...
www.sarsfieldsvirtualpub.com
Shut your hole, feeney and clean.
So typical of Hanzian mods...when you're losing an argument then resort to censorship and abuse of moderator tools.
www.sarsfieldsvirtualpub.com
Reminds me of Dengler in a way, e.g. keep this polite, stay on topic, there'll be no arguments around these parts.
Diversity, what does it give us?
Did you delete one of my posts, that showed you up, that didn't suit your argument, you prick? Go on and push me. If the administration stands over your behaviour, then they should be prepared to be caught in the cross-fire. You can always post the content of it again minus the grossly...
www.sarsfieldsvirtualpub.com
Reminds me of Dengler in a way, e.g. keep this polite, stay on topic, there'll be no arguments around these parts.