Just got the whatâs app. O Neills whatâs app was awful on Saturday too I thought.
A bit too much shlabbinâ sometimes
Things can be cuntish, a place can be a cunt of a spot, some people are ignorant cunts, others are craiced cunts. You can make a pure cunt of something, or someone.
Ah itâs just pure poetry. The rawest men I ever knew. Animals for pints and savage craic. There were loads of them in UL and Mary I at the time. Theyâd be chatting away normal to you inside in the library and next thing spot one of their South Galway brethren and out of the silence youâd hear
âCallinan ya cunt! What happened ye abroad in Luckrae a Sunday?â
âArra that cunt of a ref rode us. Any craic?â
âFuck all now. I drank a hape a pints lasht night and Iâm fuckin dyinâ
âYou cunt. I cannot drink till weâre finished this fuckin thing. Iâm frothinâ for pintsâ
Beautiful to listen to.
Cuntish is my favourite word
That cunt is as craiced as a bottle, shtone fuckin mad.
Cunthooks.
You made a pure cunt of it.
There was a blast a lads from around abroad/below in limerick at one stage. Manys the night I took the bus down on Thursday to drink the shite of it in the stables or the hurlers or that nightclub under the hotel (what was it?)
âCunty holeâ was one I heard a good bit
Youâre a sad cunt.
The Lodge?
âWere you Lodginâ lasht night?â
Ye shower of cunts
Thatâs it. The walls sweating if Iâm thinking of the right place.
Good manĂŹon yourself and more power to ya
I wish I was 20 again . Cuntin aging.
The rain has a pure cunt made of the [turf / silage / roads / etc]
If you waited around long enough the condensation dripping off the ceiling would refill your pint.
East Galway folk would say âabyontâ, as in âlads from abyont in Limerickâ.
Interesting beyont would be common nearer the equator