So you watched the whole thing.
Grand.
You're the one claiming that it was inappropriate.
No, I claimed that Brian Nugget seeking out gullible young girls among a crowd of mostly male violent reactionaries at a protest site was creepy.
Different thing altogther.
But then your relationships with women are rather unique.
Yes you.
I didn't see anything inappropriate in the video
Okay.
I did.
Mowl, you're a seven-stone cripple, you've had about three heart attacks and you wouldn't be able to smash anyone, including in defence of your daughter (if you had one)
Appearances can be deceptive, Jimmy. I mean, look at you? You know the alphabet, you can count up to one hundred, you can read the instructions on the tin, you know what size shoes fit you, you can tell when you need to change your underwear and when to recharge your phone.
But none of that, nothing at all of that, indicates that you're anything less than the crank you actually are. You claim a high IQ. We all know it's fucking rubbish. You learned how to use two person's names to claim that other posters are less than you are, so both Dunning and Kruger get trotted out every time you're backed into a a corner. I mentioned to you once that I like to listen to RTE six/one news for the laughs: you grabbed that one and you still haven't stopped running with it. You crawl around on thin ice, and you know that if a crack appears under you that it'll take you away into the depths of the cold, cold sea.
You have no life achievements worth noting. You don't make anything (bar applications for the dole) and you don't venture out too often either. You're online all day and night trying to cultivate an image/idea of yourself that no one believes, we all find you hilarious. Your mock seriousness, your devotion to the triumvirate of fools whose holes you lick on a daily basis. You're also gay. I know this - you know this. Everyone knows this. You reject all women unless they're the Mammy type cold inside Irish bitches the likes of the Shitstick, whose fanny you'd happily lick clean of her vaginal excretia. And then show her how you'll swallow it too, such is your experience of nasty women. You don't trust them. You don't let them get too close. You eye them warily. And why is that?
Because your Ma died and left you in the incapable hands of your drunk Da.
You're a classic text-book case of '
little boy lost'.
That's why she pulled you in close - her own son's a handicapped little runt who she sent to a aromatherapist to cure his rather severe full-body acne.
You're on your own, kid - nobody wants you around; you have no friends, no and worthy enemies either - bar members of other sites you're banned from.
Face it: without me your days would inevitably lead you to topping yourself: by whatever means are to hand.
Without me around, you serve no purpose whatsoever.
Ireland doesn't need you - you need her, because you know you couldn't/wouldn't make it anywhere else.
You're a spare prick in a world full of the men you traipse around after.
Utterly, utterly gay.