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Lots of Irish people seem to think that crossing the pond to the Great Big Beyonder and getting a job is 'making it' in a very real sense.

Irish people have this slack-jawed admiration of America and Americans as though it's the land of milk and honey and they're the chosen people. Declan's a great example of that mentality: his site draws in the very type who buy into the bullshit about the American dream. For most junior and qualified types it's a shared apartment/bedroom way off Manhattan, working fourteen hours a day and living on burgers and beer. With the likes of Deco's type it's all about how fat your mouth is and how much you can cram into it.

It's not much of a positive example to set, but it is what it is.

Thankfully, the only other people affected by his horse-shite apart from his poor bastard kids are the members on the gay bar site who LIKE everything he says.

And if they were all to drop dead tomorrow?

Nobody would even notice.

Least of all Declan, who doesn't even read what's on his own site: he just uses it to boost his sense of being a smug bastard in Farah slacks and a zipper-necked cardigan with rotten teeth and a flab of fat hanging off his gut. Ten mile walks all day every day.



No, he's a van driver.

You can't put lipstick on a pig that fat.



The average Arsefielder is unemployable.

Fact.



Every once in a while, there's a tsunami triggered by some relatively minor incident that gains force over a short time period and rocks all the sites and wakes up the sleepy old mods, and then the chopping and changing begins. Someone gets barred, someone else gets promoted. One cunt is muted and another blows off. Back and forth it goes until an uneasy balance is created, then they start getting comfortable because they can see the lie of the land.

Soon enough, another tsunami is caused and the pack is reshuffled all over again.

It's the nature of these sites.

But in my case I'm always about taking the really scummy cunts down. Some take longer than others, but those I have tore new arses for will tell you the same story: they were going to come out anyway, it's got nothing to do with the Mowl or any of his sources.

Yeah: of course they did. They were going to suddenly tell everyone their real name and their exact location after years of desperately trying to hide it. Because they're big heap. Sure, yeah right. I do it because losers like Declan do actually wield some degree of influence, even if it's only confined to the idiots on his site. It still matters because the longer these cunts are allowed to get away with their anonymity, the more rats that'll line up behind him as they pipe their way through the town. Yaps like Val Martin, culchie King of Ireland and youtube sensation in Kingscoooort. These sorts of gobshites. As Paddy and Bridget as it gets. And right nasty scum like this one:



See? Kiddie-fiddlers, right in your own front garden. And what do the yaps do? They offer their mundane LIKES and laugh along at the hilarity of two children discussing nappies. Two little children? In nappies? Having a chat? In America? Today? Really? Show us? Really? Wow. Yeah, nappies. Little kiddies. Posting a video while entirely oblivious to its implications. On a sleazy old men's site crowded together close enough to smell each others pissy y-fronts and bad breath. Then wishing rape on children elsewhere.

Mad really, isn't it?
I think you're probably not appreciating the eh, metaphorical content there the Mowl but certainly Too Long "Path to Enlightment" Didn't Read is worse than useless as tits on a bull
 
Moving into a new apartment in Celbridge next week (probably permanently), it'll be nice to be near everything again.

I don't know how people throughout this country tolerate the atrocious and lacklustre local public transport systems... 99% of Irish towns are absolute hellholes if you aren't a car owner.
 
ZF is pruning replies over on Arsefields. I posted a video of Tucker destroying Putin, in reply to a bonkers post she made.

It's been memory holed.

How does she think this can possibly help her?

Its fascinating.
 
The traffic lights are quite mesmerising though..

Here's a joke:

Why was Lieutenant Uhura black?
Because William Shatner

Bahahaha.. OMG I'll never stop laughing at that joke đŸ˜‚
Sparks. Have you ever shagged a non-white woman?

Missing a universe of fun if you haven't.
 
Can you write English?

Have you ever shagged a non-white woman?
Yes, yes I have. What business is it of yours?

Missing a universe of fun if you haven't.
lol.. Let me guess, your kid has frizzy hair and a eh, all-year tan, doesn't look anything like you?

So not only do you want her to be a tranny (because gay is "boring").. you want her to have multiple identity crises.. You people (self-loathing, white) leftards truly are the most fucked-up people on the planet.
 
Can you write English?


Yes, yes I have. What business is it of yours?


lol.. Let me guess, your kid has frizzy hair and a eh, all-year tan, doesn't look anything like you?

So not only do you want her to be a tranny (because gay is "boring").. you want her to have multiple identity crises.. You people (self-loathing, white) leftards truly are the most fucked-up people on the planet.
So in summary: yes.

What's with all the exposition?
 
I think you're probably not appreciating the eh, metaphorical content there the Mowl but certainly Too Long "Path to Enlightment" Didn't Read is worse than useless as tits on a bull

A right fucking scum-bucket.

Moving into a new apartment in Celbridge next week (probably permanently), it'll be nice to be near everything again.

Nice town, often worked there.

Just scanned the main street to see that a very old client, The Mucky Duck, has been given a new name as The Whistling Pig. Last time I went there I was surprised to meet a rather grim Irish 'business man' sitting at a desk at the back of the restaurant section. This was around 2011. The Mucky Duck had previously been run by a rather harsh middle aged woman called Pauline, who often made me chase her down for my fees.

Anyway, she's the same lady who ran that nightclub in the middle of fucking nowhere called The Vortex. She also has An Sibin in Dunshaughlin, a gastro-type bar with an amazing kitchen and chef who always tried to feed me before I started the work. I'd usually order supper about an hour before finishing the job so I could sit down and read the papers and rejuvenate with their 'steak on the stone' dish. A bowl of fries and onion rings on the side, three nice sauces, and the red hot stone you cut your steak for yourself before searing it to taste.

Anyway, back at the Mucky Duck, things weren't going to well. The hardcore drinkers who usually propped up the bar all day started using another pub a few doors down because the prices were better. It hit the Duck pretty hard and Pauling had to hand back the keys to the bank due to debts she couldn't possibly meet. The 'business man' behind the desk in the kitchen/dining area (suit, shirt, tie, sharp, cold) asked me what I was doing there. I told him about the pub's seasonal advertising traditions going back over twenty-five years and he just looked at me with a blank stare and asked if I had any idea of the extent of Ireland's debts. Zing: this'll be fun.

So I ordered a coffee and we talked. He was pushing pens and papers around his desk trying to act the Gordon Gekko angle and it amused me so much that I stuck around and gave him some quick and simple demonstrations of the work to see if he'd bite: I had after all traveled some distance only to find the shop changed owners. This new guy was the receiver, and he apparently insisted on having his 'office' on the restaurant floor. He was fucking hilarious. Dead serious about it all too. So I told him my story about getting the fuck out of Ireland before things really took off and only ever coming back to make some money and get out again pronto. By the looks of things, he kept the pub above water and probably found a buyer - it's is in a prime location on the main street with the bus stop back to the city nearby the village off license.

The Mucky Duck, and Dave - the local hash dealer, selling eights and quarters out back in the smoking area.

The pub down the street hired me the same day, and I took a break in the evening for a cigarette where I met that kid full of cider who out of the clear blue exclaimed:

'Nor un-till Urrland is a thirty-six county state will we stop...'

Who's we?

'We - the RA, de eye arr ay..'

Stop what?

'Killin' de Brits..'

Have you ever killed actual Brits?

'Can't say, heh-heh.. ..y'know warra meeen?'

No. I don't.

'Ahh, shure.. .no fucken wunder Urrland's bollixed..'

Yeah, really.

I don't know how people throughout this country tolerate the atrocious and lacklustre local public transport systems... 99% of Irish towns are absolute hellholes if you aren't a car owner.

It's better now than it's ever been.

Fancy that?

ZF is pruning replies over on Arsefields. I posted a video of Tucker destroying Putin, in reply to a bonkers post she made.

He.

He's a bloke, not a girl, not a woman, not a mother, sister, aunt, cousin, or granny: he's a silver ballsed old trout on a tight pension stuck in the wheelchair and/or bed-ridden who never leaves the house. He. Male. Singular. Testes. Chest hair. Tiny todger. Even tinier usefulness. Will mod for free for ten years at a time. Will continue to pretend he's a Jewish girl who took to the Catholic doctrine after seeing 'the light'.

It's been memory holed.

He's a cunt like that - always has been.

How does she think this can possibly help her?

He.

He's male.

Its fascinating.

Yeah, really: I'm guessing he likes dressing up to tend to his mod duties: knickers, a bra stuffed with three pairs of socks per cup, pissy y-fronts, long dangling earrings, a blond wig, heels, and a little blue flashing lamp on his wheelchair that makes a sound whenever he wheels himself in to kitchen. It goes:

'..bee-baw, bee-baw, bee-baw' and makes him feel all powerful and that.

He's also very, very old and completely out of touch with the zeitgeist.

He's also closer to death than any of us.
 
So in summary: yes.

What's with all the exposition?
Your first post @ me and you were coming with some racist shit (because I told a joke)?

GTFO and don't you know who I am? Ntwadumela "He who greets with fire", watch -

Post in thread 'Origins Thread (Uncensored)' https://www.sarsfieldsvirtualpub.com/threads/origins-thread-uncensored.713/post-78845

In fact, I was going to make my new username here Ntwadumela but I decided against it because I figured that you philistines wouldn't be able to pronounce it properly.
 
Seriously, though...?



It's mind-fucking-boggling how fucking lame and subservient you actually are, Dawson.
 
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