Did they find Noel Connors on the roof yet?
Burke trainers are like something youd wear flocking cows of a summer evening.
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Whatâs the significance of that picture?
Which of them did the orange shit. Heâd want to change his diet.
6 euro in penneys
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jesus christ what is it with roasters and brown shoes with a badly fitted suit and shirt, fucking clueless
And big bellies, red cheeks and badly parted hair.
Jaysus yer man Davy got plenty of the stirabout.
It appears to be an Irish thing, and particularly an Irish roaster thing but running after a bus when itâs well and truly departed from the bus stop makes me laugh.
It gives me immense joy to see a sweaty, bloated roaster running across a lane or two of oncoming traffic to a bus pulled up at the lights.
âOpen the doorâŚopen the fuckinâ door yacuntya! You were early yecunt!â all the time banging a fist against the glass door, oblivious to the horrified early-morning commuters, embarrassed for the man.
I always think of @mac when I see it happen.
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is there a clique of roasters living in North Sydney doing this Chucks?
No pal, we believe theyâre operating as individual cells at the moment. Heaven forbid they joined forces; weâd need reinforced doors on the buses.
Theyâd recognise each other pretty easily though through their jerseys, which may work against them as an organised unit (I come fucking 14000 miles over here and see a fucking Tipp jersey, cunts).
I saw a lad wearing a Sligo jersey in Westfield Burwood yesterday.
Burwood is pure Yeatsâ country.
Perhaps his name is Oisin and he was wandering, wondering when his batter half would want to stop shopping. He didnât look very happy.
The Burwood sports bar was my local for a long time round the turn of the century
Roasters drive cars, they donât take public transport
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I know manys a roaster that have lost their license, through sheer roastery, and have been forced on to the public transport network.
A real roaster wouldnât let such inconveniences as a driving ban put them off the road
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Whereâs that Massey?