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Arsefield's Hall of Shame

It's common knowledge that D@vid Sl@ttery is originally from ........ I was just suggesting that anyone who would like to meet him should go there at the weekend.

I don't live there, you thick cunt. Nor do I visit that often as I don’t need to living in Celbridge.

You keep this bullshit up of suggesting that strange men visit my mother's and sister's place of residence then I'll be reporting you to the Gardai.
 
If Slatttery loves Kildare so much why does he agree with his uncle Christy Moore who wants to fill it with Africans?


Dear Myles, I couldn't care less about Klldare, the county system, or any other damn county in Ireland. I'm Irish, and that's it. I couldn't care less about some lines on a map drawn up by 16th century English cartographers. If it wasn't for the GAA most of you half-wits would also see counties for what they really are - invented administrative units only which are meaningless in any real cultural or social sense.

And Christy Moore is shit.
 
Looks like a bunch of posts were deleted from the gay bar site.

Did I feature in any?

It is Friday after all - and everyone knows the weekends are where you really get to see how these shit-heads live their worthless lives.
 


Yeps, and that's all you'll ever know about it, Loser.

You wouldn't last five minutes up here, and you know it.

Helsinki is the capital city of Finland, the world's happiest country five years on the trot. You live in a world of shit with no way out bar suicide. Your streets are filled with miserably unhappy people starving for a chance, and that's just the natives. You've also got a couple of hundred thousand blow-ins from every shit-hole country on the planet costing you and yours an arm and a leg to allow them to squat in misery along the canal in a rather wealthy area of the city currently losing capital value as result of their presence.

Your government tried to clean them out three times so far in massive operations involving multiple departments, and guess what?

Yeps, they were back again a few hours later.

That must be soul destroying? Especially when you couple it with a government that hates your fucking guts and consider you all a waste of fucking time and money. Contrast that with MY quality of life? I'm absolutely free, as content and happy as I could be with every choice I've made since twenty-five years ago. I knew then that Ireland was finished (before she even started) and Finland was on the ascent. So I made my choices, took the bit and ran with it and made it clean out of Ireland with money in my pockets. The life I've built up here is one I couldn't have possibly even dreamed of as a child in Ballyfermot, the salt of the earth and most despised of Irish people.

Other people's expectations never meant shit to me: I watched you losers trying to make the most of a seriously bad lot, and guess what? You shoveled it up like the navvie twats you are. Me? I saw what was happening and played my cards accordingly: when the very last of the good times began to appear on the horizon is exactly when I jumped ship. Like a Titanic survivor, I swam to shore here and made Finland my home. Since I got here, things have only ever gotten better and sweeter and more satisfying the more I compared it to life in Ireland.

No wonder you fools hate me.
If I was in your shoes, I'd probably feel the same.
But then again I'm not you, thank fuck.
I'm the Mowl - and you twats STILL can't figure out how to handle me.

So rest assured: Helsinki really is nice. If nice means happy, clean, safe, contented, cared for, included, wanted, needed, and inclusive to any hard working and willing new arrival. The chances of any of you EVER coming up here are zero. You wouldn't be able to order yourself a beer in the local tongue. You could study it for years and still not be able to hold a simple conversation about the game, the new album, where to go, what to do, or otherwise. So lap it up, suckers. You live in a rat-infested dump of an island teeming with dangerous men from strange places wandering your streets day and night, stabbing your children, raping your women, robbing everything not nailed down. You're surrounded with them and there are even more on the way.

If you can't understand why Finland's not having any of those problems, great - I don't want you to: it might put ideas into your tiny minds.

Suffice it to say that the one thing that makes a visit to Finland difficult for any holiday-maker/adventurer/immigrant is definitely the language. That and the weather. Oh, and the seasons. Oh, yes - and the way of life. And the happiness we take for granted. Imagine you all still spoke Irish? What differences do you think it might make? Imagine 100% of Irish-born people all spoke Gaelic? How would that shape your society? Your employment? Your place in your society? See, the one thing that makes Finland unattractive to any sponger from anywhere around the world in the Finnish language. You fools speak your colonizer's language. And you still haven't recovered from their occupation either: like a bad hangover, there are still Paddies and Biddies out there who 'hate the Brits' even if they can't exactly put their finger on why.

So lap it up, suckers: I'm smiling, laughing out loud actually, and the sun's cracking the stones outside while many trees haven't even begun to bud yet.Three weeks ago, I walked out into a snowstorm that dropped twenty-five centimeters of snow an hour. Now we're sunbathing. Crap, isn't it? I mean crap for you, like. Me? I'm the happiest Irish man in Finland. Surrounded by babes, beaches and forests full of them. And they like to have their fun too, y'know?

Any plans for weekend, lads?

Staying in with a slab of imported beer, twenty fake smokes, and your electronic device?

I'm hosting a rooftop party tonight at 2000: two saunas booked (one for boys one for girls) the entire rooftop reserved, panoramic views of the city and county, lots of steaks and chicken wings on the barbie, a large fridge to cool your drinks, seating for fourteen with a dance area and a DJ rig. But that's nothing on the party I'm attending on Saturday night: that joint has a studio in the basement.

Keep dreaming, suckers - and I'll keep laughing at you.
 
Mandy was doxxing but was soon given a spanking by the moderators.

Good enough for the poor fool.

I'd say the lads are pulling on their boots to head down to Lidl for this weekend's slabs of cheap lager and soap-bar hash.

A shower of do-nothing mouths all angry with everything but incapable of knowing what to do to save themselves from the despair of being Irish and living in Ireland, brow-beaten by your immigrants and refugees. Up here we're preparing for the first parties of the season: we're starting early this year as the wether has been very kind to us of late.

Twenty-four degrees on the balcony, the rooftop's even hotter and the barbecue's set up and ready to grill.

Ireland?

Rain, misery, clouds, unhappiness, rage, sadness, drunkenness, damp, cold, and seriously pissed off with it all.

Some days it feels so good to rub it in to their faces - but some days I really am sad for them; it must hurt like hell being a nobody in your own country.

Jamal and Rajneesh spitting into your take-away, your Chinese barman adding the slops into your pint, the bus driver from Pakistan who doesn't know the proper route from A to B so he asks a passenger to point the way for him. I'll be the only immigrant at tonight's bash: everyone else is 100% Finnish. And you know what that means.

Babes.

Gaggles of them.
 
The sad part is that they actually think they've accomplished something by spending all day on Dan's website.
 
The sad part is that they actually think they've accomplished something by spending all day on Dan's website.

Oh, but they did; they save the world every passing day, and without them the entire planet would be fucked.

Seriously, like..
 


Poor auld Free & Clean, he got up early this morning and washed his arse in preparation for tonight's shit-fest over on the gay bar site. Sadly Zippy's on today, and there's nothing he hates more than a Mowl-fest. So sadly, F&C - washing your hole for multiple entrants tonight is off the table. You already know what I'm doing tonight but you'll never know who I'm doing it with. That's the best part of being Finland's most eligible bachelor: picking and choosing and taking my time about it.

You might lucky later on when Zippy has to change his colostomy bag and empty his porta-loo type wheelchair bucket he has to attach underneath himself and then remove and empty, often several times a day if he's had the Chinese supper deliver by the local meals on wheels for sad old people with no lives who fill in their time moderating half-witted cunt-buckets like the shower of savages on Arsefield's.

You might get lucky later tonight, Free & Clean - so try to keep your anus as free and as clean as you can given the filthy tap-water down your neck of the woods. Maybe Declan Roundy might be kinder and let you re-post a few photographs of The Senators Of Helsinki to keep yourself amused. How about this one? That's Aleksi, one of my best little pupils ever. See the happiness in his eyes? See the sheer joy of getting to make all the noise he likes? Now take a look at your miserable bastard children? See the way they keep picking their noses and eating their snots? In public too?

They learned that off you, you sad fucking cunt.
Free and clean is right: like the many tents along your canals.
Like the soup kitchens you frequent.
Like the sad excuse for an existence you call a life.
Like your whole fucking shit.
Sad.
Empty.
Worthless.
Meaningless.
And always in my shadow.

 


Sadly not, my dear fellow.

Must hurt like hell, you wanting to let rip but knowing that if you do there's a price to pay? Roundy might let you off with a warning, but there's no way Zippy's going to put up with being sloppy seconds. He's too uptight for any of that, so like he said: if you want to discuss me, do so in your private threads, where I can already see fucking everything, you stupid fucking twat.

You really haven't a fucking clue, have you?
I've been inside the workings of Arsefield's from Day One.
I know exactly what you said, say, and think.
Long before you do yourself.

So you keep scratching your bollocks and waiting for the tide to turn - I'll keep partying on, like always.

Oh, and one more thing: your Ma.
 
You no more understand these arguments than that Tiger chap does. In pretending you do, or believing that your superficial grasp of one or two of the concepts being discussed equates to understanding, you are as bad as the other. Additionally you are as bad as the other in your dogmatism. You are both sub-imbeciles of the nth order.
 
You no more understand these arguments than that Tiger chap does. In pretending you do, or believing that your superficial grasp of one or two of the concepts being discussed equates to understanding, you are as bad as the other. Additionally you are as bad as the other in your dogmatism. You are both sub-imbeciles of the nth order.
Blah, blah, blah..

What was actually made clear with your sock puppet on Arsefield's is that you don't know what probability is (and such a simple concept), neither

It's hard to know who's the bigger retard but as I always say about you, you're not so much retarded as mentally insane
 
I tried to bring back to basics, see if you and your fellow Arsefields chimps could get it.

I.e. Grasp that the whole concept of probability is an abstraction from what happens in the real world.

https://www.sarsfieldsvirtualpub.com/threads/origins-thread-uncensored.713/post-79441

You proved yourself unable to grasp it.

Actually there was even more to take from what I said - specifically directed at the dogmatism of you and the other chimps.

You see I wondered would you understand that predictions are always dogmatic (though the dogma can be modified in the light of further evidence).

And probability is no exception.

I posted about how you cannot make predictions of the real world which is unknowable in detail. Rather you make predictions about some simplified abstraction from the real world - some incomplete image.

And of course the probability concept is itself an abstraction of the same kind.

So you don't get that even with all your chess, mensa and IQ tests? Or won't? Or can't?

What if Morgoth explained it to you? You'd get it then. Actually you wouldn't get it, you'd just bleat what Morgoth said.

And that is what your arguments with Tiger on Arsefields always come down to.
 
I tried to bring back to basics, see if you and your fellow Arsefields chimps could get it.

I.e. Grasp that the whole concept of probability is an abstraction from what happens in the real world.

https://www.sarsfieldsvirtualpub.com/threads/origins-thread-uncensored.713/post-79441

You proved yourself unable to grasp it.

Actually there was even more to take from what I said - specifically directed at the dogmatism of you and the other chimps.

You see I wondered would you understand that predictions are always dogmatic (though the dogma can be modified in the light of further evidence).

And probability is no exception.

I posted about how you cannot make predictions of the real world which is unknowable in detail. Rather you make predictions about some simplified abstraction from the real world - some incomplete image.

And of course the probability concept is itself an abstraction of the same kind.

So you don't get that even with all your chess, mensa and IQ tests? Or won't? Or can't?

What if Morgoth explained it to you? You'd get it then. Actually you wouldn't get it, you'd just bleat what Morgoth said.

And that is what your arguments with Tiger on Arsefields always come down to.
You're every bit as retarded as Mad as a Tiger

There is nothing complicated about probability, as a concept

But you both have your (different) religions
 
I've already said this btw, I tried to establish (a beachhead) with Dense as a Tiger that because something is highly (highly, highly..) unlikely doesn't mean that it's impossible. She kept on asking me - What is the probability of ten to the ten to the ten.. Just turn it into odds, you dumb bitch 😆, stop asking me stupid fucking questions

And then (bored to tears with her) I made my, by now, famous quip - It's 50/50 - It either happen or it don't

And then when I subsequently said that probability is (mathematically) measured between 0 and 1.. her head completely fell off 🤣
 
You should include a link to sarsfieldsvirtualpub.com in the descriptions of the videos, it will help drive traffic here.

Lmfao. Yeah and good luck paying through the nose in hosting fees all so a few hundred more losers can join in on the Arsefield's clown show.





Lickarse.
 
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