Xmas party

[Joe]

You're a dirty bitch, aren't you Mrs Feeney? xxx

 

[Mrs Feeney]

Ah sure Joe ya only live once. Nuthin like a few pints and a gud ride

 

[Mrs Feeney]

Mite go lez 2night. Me fanny could do wit a gud scissorin

 

[Mrs Feeney]

Fancy some Jap wan da local sushi restaurant but she not interested.

'You pay, you go. No time now, you go!'

 

[Mowl]

Fucking slopes.

 

[David]

The Japanese, a great bunch of lads.

 

[Mrs Feeney]

Jaysus but Dave so sensitive bout his willy.

How i convince him dat size not important?

 

[Joe]

size not important?

Well it clearly is if you're cheating on him with all those black fellas.

 

[Mowl]

Jaysus but Dave so sensitive bout his willy.

How i convince him dat size not important?

That's right: it's not important at all - so long as it's huge.

 

[Dave F]

Who needs a big dick when you have a big heart.

 

[Mowl]

Who needs a big dick when you have a big heart.

You quite clearly do, Dave.

Get real.

 

[Dave F]

My wife tells me its not the size that matters but how you use it.

 

[Mowl]

Yeah, but then again she's an alien mutant, no?

She arrived by an interstellar pigeon who dropped her from a great height and as a result her head is all sorts of Picasso for real.

 

[Mowl]

Marianne's mother died in 1998. There was no probate on the house she lived in and owned outright: she passed it directly along to Marianne - not Roundy Kelly. As for the educational levels of other posters on these sites, even Clarke/Mongo outsmarts Kelly 'who is known by all' for being a prize spoofer. Short man syndrome meets fat bastard spread in later life. He can walk from here to the moon and back, but he'll still be a fat little spoofing cunt when he returns.

The above screen-grab made me feel a bit sick when I read it the first time - kinda like a few lines from a totally hopeless spasmo.

Have any of Roundy's minions ever asked him for advice about their savings and how best they could be invested? No? Aha, now d'ya see?

Would any normal male human leave the house his wife inherited in exactly the same condition as it was when the mother in law lived there?

White lace curtains over pleated velvet mini-curtains up top and windows so murky you can't see in or out.

But on investment advice, it's highly likely that only that drunk fool Myles who keeps getting barred for referring to that civic engineer and male model Rory O'Connor from 153 Strutter Square, Sandyford County Dublin whenever he gets so drunk he can't even read what he's seeing is Roundy's ONE great hope of sucking some cash dollar money out of. Amazingly, Jambo's too smart (and poor) to become a victim.

So Roundy went for a little walk, did he? Down to the local cheeseburger joint for half a dozen extra-large super-sized burgers with cheese.

Look at these: by all accounts - these are the clothes of a wealthy man:

Now only a fool would be inclined to think that that fat little specimen in the Farah slacks has both good investment advice and the will to walk five miles a night. I don't walk five miles anywhere - I'd rather cycle. And you've seen how lithe and healthy I appear. Would I get more handsome if I walked five miles a night? Who knows, but I wouldn't be any fatter for it. Putting on weight is something that simply doesn't/hasn't/won't ever be a bother to me. But then again I don't ram whole cheeseburgers down my gullet in the one go. If Roundy thinks that walking is going to cure what ails him, then leave him to it. I'd love to get the news that after he went for one of his nocturnal cheeseburger raids that his body was found the next morning under the interstate flyover with a whole cheeseburger caught in his esophagus and nobody around to perform the Heimlich on him. Besides, how is any normal human supposed to lift the fat bastard up to get their arms around his chest?

Conclusion?

He's spoofing again.

The fat fool: