Culchies
- Thread starter Mowl
- Start date
It has a soft spot for Jambo as well, just as Hitsticle did. Swordid seems convinced that it can make Jambo see the error of his ways...turning him into an ordinary, decent human being.
That'll never happen though...for Jambo it's a case of "my way or the highway", and that's not going to change any time soon - if ever.
That'll never happen though...for Jambo it's a case of "my way or the highway", and that's not going to change any time soon - if ever.
Mowl
Member
Most likely - both have at least four bollocks between them.
Whenever Jambo runs out of dodges to simple yet pertinent questions, the first thing he reaches for is his pocket chess set.
It has a little demo it plays when you turn it on: 'DA-DA-DA, dum-dum-tum, wah-wee - today iz gonna-be duh day-dat-day didn't flah-plah-palooo...'
Except it isn't really a pocket chess set - it's a Sony walkman from 1982 playing a BASF C90 cassette tape of The Bangles playing the 12'' version of 'Just Another Manic Monday' and anything by The Pet Shop Boys first six albums.
He's a fucking moron. He has nothing. He hasn't had anything nor will he have anything bar a few sink-hole type items of obscure origin that he uses to drag people under. And loads of them fall for it. In a way I kind of admire that aspect of Jambo's usefulness. Even if only momentarily. But it's the fact that he has no idea either way is still the belly-laugh of the day. Whenever things get too heated, he wheels out the chess board.
It's like a self-defence mechanism he uses to feel better about himself when he watches youtube videos of patchy-goolie or whatever her name is.
One day he'll be just as smart as she is.
Even if she's only seven and he's pushing sixty.
Be careful of adult males who fixate on both sexes of children - especially the gifted AND problem types.
To sinister fuckers like Jambo, children are the last refuge: it's down to his Ma dying when he was young. His Da had to bring him up, and his Da was clearly an alcoholic with a violent temperament. So it's not Jambo's fault. Life hasn't been kind to him, and you can see it in how he's ALWAYS seeking out the Shitstick. Ever noticed that? And the way he speaks to her about his love for her? See, he probably 'knows' her real name. Or some version of the fat slag's identity. Being the Ma of a feral child herself (her teen son was done for shoplifting to order items) she knows how malleable Jambo is at a glance. After that he's putty.
Jambo HATES strong women.
Slags?
Fat Slags?
Ugly and fat slags?
Hell, yeah - he can't get enough of that shit.
It's easy to spot 'an angry young' in the most modern terms by how they interact with the opposite sex when online.
Jambo's always looking for a new 'Mammy' like Irish Nigerians seek out a fat slag they can plant on the first date.
But there it is - Jambo and his new 'Ma' - the Shitstick.
It's inter-fucking-net poetry I tells ye.
Lumpy Von Talbot
Member
That's what happens when you are suckled by a Massey-Ferguson in your formative years. They probably whipped him away from the exhaust pipe too young and in mid- happy-shit. It has all been downhill since. I bet if you sneaked into his house and whispered 'Massey-Ferguson' into his ear the eyes would open and the word 'mammy?' would emerge automatically from its head.
Mowl
Member
Passing through the city centre last weekend, I spotted this rather odd vehicle outside central station loaded up with its two giant melons. Or are they red peppers? Anyway, the tractor itself will cause auld Valamhic a right stiffy when he sees it. There's even some hay on the flatbed for him to have a nap afterwards. Closer inspection might even reveal a nice big wet fresh cowpat for him to rub into his skin like a moisturizer.
'It rubs the cowpat into its skin.
It RUBS THE COWPAT INTO ITS SKIN!!
Yes, Precious - she is very fat.
Rub the fucking lotion inna yer SKIN!'
'It rubs the cowpat into its skin.
It RUBS THE COWPAT INTO ITS SKIN!!
Yes, Precious - she is very fat.
Rub the fucking lotion inna yer SKIN!'
Farmers destroy Ireland's largest lake.
www.google.ie
Worst-ever contamination of Ireland’s largest lake: What’s to blame?
Blue-green algae is flourishing in Lough Neagh and there is more than one culprit to point to.
Mowl
Member
Val's television studios up in Cavan, the sad reality:
Out front:
Behind the scenes:
That's his prized collection of gallons of piss. His own piss, his wife's piss, the sons, the daughters, and the cat that mouses around the barn. There's enough piss in those containers to resupply Lough Neagh and its surroundings with its vile stench.
Out front:
Behind the scenes:
That's his prized collection of gallons of piss. His own piss, his wife's piss, the sons, the daughters, and the cat that mouses around the barn. There's enough piss in those containers to resupply Lough Neagh and its surroundings with its vile stench.
Lumpy Von Talbot
Member
One of the handful of reasons why I emigrated. Irish 'country and western'. Still makes me feel queasy now. No way am I listening to that. The only think that kept me sane before I could get out was counting the days down to the Cork Jazz festival and the sudden and very welcome arrival of jazz on Sunday mornings in various hotel bars.
Anyone from Ireland trying to sing 'country and western' with an American accent should be rounded up and gassed.
Anyone from Ireland trying to sing 'country and western' with an American accent should be rounded up and gassed.
Mowl
Member
I don't think anybody living urban ever watches Tubridy's sucking up to other culchies based out in Montrose.
Culchies still see America as 'the land of the free'.
Why exactly, I've no idea. When they were teaching geography in my De La Salle classes, they frequently taught us about things like how many head of cattle there are in the reclaimed lands of the Dutch dykes and polders, how much rainfall on the Massif Central, and the main wheat exports from the Ukraine to the world in general. Here I am all these years later carrying this useless information and for what?
Same with Pythagoras and his theorems.
Yet here I am with no idea of how the rain in Spain travels mainly by train - or words to that effect.
I used to wonder if our basic Irish education system at the time was trying to turn us all into boggers, farmers, slurry-men, and shit-shovelers. The system was fuck all use to urban kids: what the fuck difference is it going to make to some kid who's going to end up in the car tyre factory or else sticking labels on tins of beans for their entire existence. The culchies had the advantage in those years - make no mistake.