Not that old, but funny as fuck - the thread about Clare cowards hiding behind printers.
wraven>?
Wouldn’t it be great to be just idling around all week pursuing matters of humanist self-improvement? 8.00 Reveille 8.05 Matters of personal hygiene and what not 10.00 Coffee in Boylesports 10.05 Read the Racing Post in Boylesports 10.55 Acquisition of basic stationary items from Boylesports 11.00 Visit choice of art gallery (Leave bookies 20 mins earlier if walking out to IMMA) 13.00 Donate blood on D’Olier Street and enjoy complimentary carbonated drink, crisps and confectionaries 14.0…
Pearls of wisdom
to catch a woman you need at least two of the following…
-a penis-a personality(any type)-a reasonable body-a sense of humour-a few euro-a pair of balls to go for it.
a combination of any 2 of these will get you a woman, the more of these you have will obviously determine how long you get to keep her for.
meeting some weirdo at speed dating or on the internet will do fuckall for you if you still dont meet the criteria.
He heralded his arrival in the Funeral Etiquette thread, and was gone forever within the week…
Apologise for masturbating over the body.
You are a cunt.
Probably the greatest post in the history of TFK.
Wow. What a spectacular backfire. There’s only one gif that fits the bill here…
It’s a shocking indictment of this new site that the phenomenal amount of ratings @dodgy_keeper received for that missile hasn’t transferred to the new board. It broke records all over the place and of course led to the demise of @youngnedofthehill. I wonder what ever happened to him?.
It’s a shocking indictment of this new site that the phenomenal amount of ratings @dodgy_keeper received for that missile hasn’t transferred to the new board. It broke records all over the place and of course led to the demise of @youngnedofthehill. I wonder what ever happened to him?.
Rumour has it he descended into a tailspin of despair and misery; he chased all the little children out his garden. The birds and flowers soon followed, and his garden remained under a shroud of winter’s chill. Until one day a young boy started to melt the heart of @Little_Lord_Fauntleroy…
No but you come across as a massive cock from the bit I’ve seen of you on here. Do you have many real friends? Are you in gainful employment? Do you have a girlfriend? What time did you get out of the scratcher this morning? Don’t bother replying I couldn’t give a fuck but I think you should answer these questions for yourself.
My most excruiating bus incident was about 18 months ago when on the way to Lansdowne for a Six Nations game. Somebody going to the match rang me and I briefly chatted to them about where their tickets were for and where I’d meet them after for a pint. Upon finishing my call, this big fat weirdo who’d got on at the same stop, gets up from his seat and comes down and sits in beside me. Right away I knew I was in trouble.
I get the 10 from up around the Phoenix Park and it tends to have a very high ratio of weirdos due to the route’s proximity to Grangegorman and the fact there’s a lot of hostels and sheltered accommodation on the NCR. However, that wasn’t the reason I’d clocked this fella as a bit odd at the bus-stop. You’d have known him a mile off. Big and fat with an awkward bowler haircut and non-shiny tracksuit bottoms with black shoes.
Anyway, he plonks himself in beside me and says “so you’re going to the game? I’d love to go but it’s too expensive”. I thought he might start having a go at me for how I could afford tickets or something and just mumbled some reply about the tickets being very dear these days and he goes “well it’s not that I don’t have the money, it’s just they won’t release it to me”. I should have spotted the obvious danger in this but I was flustered I guess and stuck for something to say I asked was it a problem with his bank. “No,” he replied, “its St Brendans Psychiatric Hospital. Well, they call it a hospital, but I call it a fucking morgue. The only way you leave is in a wooden box.”
At this stage I obviously thought Oh bollocks. However, I was really late and didn’t have time to get off the bus. I didn’t want to move seats on the bus in case I offended him. He was a huge guy, and had me kind of wedged into the wall but I figured the chances of him actually doing something violent, or worse untoward, were probably pretty slim, so I thought I could chance waiting it out for another ten minutes until Baggot Street Bridge.
I attempted to strike up a bit of banal converation in order to keep the subject away from his self-professed mental illness and treatment of same. After about five minutes of the most inane prattle about the weather and how bad the traffic is these days, I eventually just ran out of stuff to say. There was a silence between us for about twenty dreadfully long seconds and then he just goes “They do experiments on me at night. My penis is shrunk away to nothing.”
Well. There was nothing to say to that. I just sat there. Stared straight ahead with a blank expression on my face. Then it slowly dawned on me that the main danger was his attempting to verify his allegations. To my blessed relief, he completely changed tack and politely asked me “so where you getting off?” Understandably distracted perhaps, I said “Baggot Street Bridge” to which he replied “Me too!”
We sat in painful silence for another five minutes and then I got off one stop before Baggot Street Bridge and he stayed on.
The fella sitting behind me must have been thinking “oh this is a fucking classic.”
Sitting in the airport here with Mrs. Moth - she had a run-in with a loon on the 10 bus years ago - we got some laugh out of that pal. Thanks Chucks.
The toilets on my floor in the office have 4 traps. I always go right down to trap 4 as it keeps me away from potentially prying eyes and ears. If I go in and there’s already someone in trap 4 then I’ll go to trap 1 to keep me as far away as possible from toxic fumes - I think this offsets the risk of being close to the door. Similarly enough if there’s people in traps 2 and 4 then I’ll go to trap 1 as it’d be reckless in the extreme to bolt into trap 3 and leave yourself open to a veritable sh…
Old one here from @Bandage that I enjoyed there last night.
Thanks for your input IM.
I would ask all posters to direct “Likes” to the original post(er). I would hate to have a fraulent Nice Post award sitting at home.
Go on the Runt.
We were at a quiz recently and were asked:
“What is the name of an otters house?”
To which one of the lads responded instantly “a pocket”.
Looking at him funny I said “I think it’s a holt”
He replied, “no, you know the phrase sure, as wet as an otters pocket”
I believe this was only fully launched today, Ive spent the last hour taking a tour up every road in my area to see was anyone I know caught on the camera.
Well they’ve ventured up every backroad in my remote part of the country anyway. My oul lad is still afraid they’ll catch him burning rubbish some day, he always does it under the cover of darkness incase they’re watching, as he says himself.
I’ve had a premonition, a vision, of things to come. I believe Liam and Sam will come west at various stages over the next 5 years. but the darkest part of the night comes before dawn, so while I believe we will turn up and beat clare, we will exit both championships at the hands of Tipperary in croker. And so it shall come to pass.
From 2016, before Tipp dumped us out of the hurling and football championship. By God!
@maroonandwhite, are you related to Biddy Earley?
I am not but I may need to magic up a football full back line to fulfill the prophecy. Or the hurlers could lend them daithi burke… Naaaat… It wad plain to see we were coming. A pessimist could say this might have been the third leg of a three in a row as we were arguably the best team in the country the last two. But beggers can’t be choosers.
Im not good at accepting ethnic groups/minorities as equals to normal people,im not good around knackers,queers,black lads,fellas who wear scarves etc,that kind of thing,i just cant warm to the cunts.
I have a Daughter but this scenario wont arise,any black lad spotted anywhere in the vicinity of the spots is immediately fired upon repeatedly until such time as he falls or flees.
The bossman at home when he’d be watching telly and he’d see a black lad on an RTE soap or something he’d tut tut a few times before usually remarking something along the lines of “they probably caught him in a net”,…ive been wary of the hoors going way back.
this…
unreal posting here