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I have an image of Finnish women being beautiful, kind and intelligent...just like Johanna. Certainly beats having to deal with your average obnoxious, loudmouth slapper which inhabits Ireland.




The guy on the left is Tuomas Holopainen, the chief songwriter and arranger of the symphonic Finnish rock band Nightwish.


The other guy is guitarist Troy Donockley, but whatever Johanna's doing with them I have no idea. Johanna looks radiant as ever. Her new project is called Altamullen Road, which has a vaguely Irish tinge to it. Nightwish are trotted out every summer for the Finnish festivals up and down the country. Every town has their own festival and so all of the Finnish bands singing in Finnish are out and about. It's a great time of the year for free live music.

Bigger festivals like Provinssirock and Ruisrock are ticket-only affairs but they offer great choices in international music alongside several stages full of Finnish bands. I've done Provinssi several times and by far the best of them was 2007, when NIN and Mew ripped the party apart. Unbelievable stage sets and huge rigs to build their stages featuring 3D type imagery on screens bigger than the stages themselves.

Meeting Reznor was awesome, but hanging out with Danny Lohner was un-fucking-real, he's the guy with the short hair:



He said he mistook me for Robin Fink from behind, the dude in black leather with the fucked-up hair.

This is a link to Johanna's latest venture:

 
Gosh, but the skin-crawlingly sad bastard effect off this one is pure rank:



You're about as scary or intimidating as a pet rabbit, you sad bastard.

Every time you scribble out your sad little list of names I remind myself how happy I am not to have to live on the same shitty little island as a complete dope of your scale. So you know a few names, they're freely available online. Or would you prefer people thought you some kind of sleuth?

You're a moron, a sad case and an inoperable one.

You really are one of the saddest little cunts I ever slapped in the ears.

Leixlip is now down the road from Leixlip?
 
Couldn't Mrs Feeney just pay for a babysitter for Mandy when she's down at the docks? He really shouldn't be allowed near a computer without adult supervision.
 
Same applies to Declan: he even started a thread asking people where the fuck he is, the forgetful old bollocks.

I bet Marianne's having the (negroid) time of her life while the fat man's away to You-Rope on a cheeseburger mission from Hell.
 
Just be sure not to publish the attached comments from my lady fans from all over, it'll blow your sad little gig.

 
I'm feeney and clean now according to Mandy.

 

Lmfao, pull the other one.
 
Pahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Poor Feeney: not only is his wife as ugly as a wet sack of rashers, he's now pissed off his own main man, Feeney & Kleen.

 
This is getting hilarious.




 
Tyraid?

Pahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaasssssssssssnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngh....!!!

What a fucking dope!
 
Feeney's Punch and Judy sock puppet routine. Ironically enough many Arsefielders are actually falling for it.
 
Poor auld F&C: he can't seem to catch a break these days; he has it worse than Jambo - if that's even possible.

Says he:

'I know you're big into conspiracies but this is a bit ridiculous, no?'

Trying to emulate the Mowl's writing skills is a losing battel for you, Fucky-Face.

'Besides I'm primarily interested in Kildare's foremost neonazi Jew hater from River Park'.

Why - do you fancy him or something?

'Claire's bastard son of an alcoholic bus driver is a funny sideshow'.

Mad the way the son of a drunk bus driver has achieved more in his life in one single week than Fuckie-Face here has in a lifetime?

'The ugliest man in Finland who thinks he resembles George Clooney'.

You mean the journalist?

'There's delusional and then there's that'.

Dis, dat, deez, un doze, like?

You'll never match Cloony's writing skills, you dopey culchie fool. I've tried and failed, so I don't bother trying any more.

Feeney's Punch and Judy sock puppet routine. Ironically enough many Arsefielders are actually falling for it.

They just love having another man's hand up their jaxies, eh.
 
Stop with whining, you silly little bitch: Mandy's given you your orders - get busy shutting the fuck up or get banned, Loser.

Free and Clean?

What are you?

Some form of hooker who pays people to fuck him?

 
I don't understand why Mandy is wasting his time here? Anybody with a brain can see that the free and clean sock puppet is him.

Why would I report myself to groups in Celbridge for supposedly being a nazi for instance?
 
They're just lonely, David: they were neglected by their drunk parents when they were younger so they have this low self-esteem issues they need each other to talk to about. At least Jambo's not in any confusion as to why he never had any female/motherly type love in his youth: the auld dear topped herself when she found him forging a certificate from MENZA stating he had the IQ of a duck afraid to cross the street.

If they're really that bored, they can always contact King's Crisps on the Kylemore Industrial estate and tell them they have yer man who nicked all the crisps and sold them in the school yard. That ought to keep their knickers nice a wet/pissy for the time being.

What a fucking loser, that Free & Clean.

Must have named himself after a pair of Val's y-fronts from the cupboard in the house on the farm slurry bog.
 
Good girl, Mandy - now try to stick to your promise this time, you pimply little zit-boy.

 
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