Just a reminder of what I’m about nowadays; the sentiment’s still quite the same as when I quoted this Irish fellow.
As he seems to have taken his own advice and is off doing better things with his life than blogging, I’ll take the liberty to paste the entirety for reference as this thing accelerates.
You Fucking People Make Me Sick
So it be a damp enough day in de local boozer with the telly on and nigh on every cunt is that little bit langers. It’s a family gathering of sorts. Just a couple of pints and whatnot. So yeah, everybody is chatting away about this and that and ruggers and then, quick as a flash, the Cyprus thing comes up on the news. First I’ve heard of it. So I put my whiskey down. I edge towards the box and listen in to get the jist of what is going on. Turns out there is a fucking “tax” on deposits. I’m shocked, clearly. Clearly, these German cunts aint all sunshine and gravy en aw. So, amidst the fact that the EU did something more reminiscent of Soviet fucking Russia just there, the fact that Putin and friends are bleedin fuming away because Cyprus is a dirty moolah Russian oligarch sex party, and the simple, brutal point that if this is happening in Cyprus, it can happen here, I look around and try to get a reaction. Not a damn thing. Barely a whimper. Like I be saying, langers, just langers like. Lads and laddies get back to it thereafter, and suddenly I’m pounding back shots like no one’s business.
Later on, they have a feature on your one, eh, whats her name? The good looking lassie who is hitting the wall and married to Prince William of Beta? Yeah, well she got her heel stuck in an iron grate in this St Patrick’s Day presentation thing, and there was this big curfuffle and it was all amusing and shit. Every fiend in the pub got a good laugh out of it and the coldness set in. You fucking cunts. You blatantly ignore, the fact that a dubious organization went into another FUCKING COUNTRY’S SET OF BANKS, and skimmed the cream off of the top. Then some lassie gets her stiletto caught up and it is epic lozzlzlzlzlzlzlzlzlols for the whole family. Seeya later ye daft gobshites! All you sniveling lefties are more concerned with a bunch of lassies winning the grand slam. Bread and circuses? Corn and porn ken, corn and porn.
I look around. It’s nine o clock and this middle aged beure starts dancing, shaking her shaggy butt to Owner of a Lonely Heart. She’s pissed, and her children are averting their gaze big fucken style. I’ve been the right old barking up the wrong tree fella when it comes to saying that a lot of Irish people deserve what they got post housing bubble, and no no fucken know. Fuck you. You deserved it. And you know why you deserved it? You deserved it because when I was in a pub two days ago, it was more fucken important to watch some manjawed floozie embarrass herself and her children, and The Voice, the fucken VOICE, an Irish singalong competition with some Chernobly faced slapper, is more important than deposits being seized, people’s fucken money being stolen. But we must sees whod be fucking winning on the telly, roysh? Fuck me. Because this is huge fucking shit, huuuuuge fucken shite, life affirming lets come together right now in sweet harmony level we’d be chatting about. This is fuckin life ken. Choose life ken. It’s so hard to comprehend, to look up a fucking book for five fucking minutes and read the notes yourself, therefore reaching a logical conclusion. Jesus. It’s so hard, wah wah de fucken wah. Derpidy derpa derp. Yous all moan, and whinge and fucking piss around like no one’s business. About how the government should do this and Enda Kenny should do that and it is sad too see. But hehe, it’s really fucking funny too. So then some afterspecials party comes in. We leave. Me mam makes an interesting quip about the decline of culture. It’s hilarious. There is no culture. Reallys. How, utterly,fucking sad is it is that so called high end Irish culture is reading novels from privileged fucking faggots like Emma D and Colm Toibin who had their nice little cushy MA in English and stayed in their little D4 tower while writing their shitty fucken lesbian fiction and it’s courageous, so fucking courageous. Award! Award! Photo Photo! Aww. The privileged are killing me ken. You’re putting my fucking cousin on medication, a soon to be co dependent mess, because he got in a fight in school? There’s a reason that fucking Fight Club is the most important movie of the past 50 years ken. Go on, try and figure it out. It’s fucking extreme value theory and covariance matrices multiplied by set theory. It’s a gargantuan mindfuck. That one in particular is evil and in particular gets to me. Pure evil. And all you phenomenology lads “truth is relative” blah blah blah. No, fuck you. Evil is wretched. It exists, as clear as fucking day. It is the sad, the good gone awry, the fifty year old feminist, the videogame playing virgin. That, is evil.
This country has been infected. It’s been infected with the same nonsense that seem to be pirulating everywhere else. So, here is what I’m going to do. I’m going to get myself a nice comfy chair. I’m going to buy some cigars and drag some lassie back here. I’m going to watch all of you motherfuckers run the lemmings off of this cliff, and I’m in contact with all sorts. Ivory tower D4 cunts, you will formicate left right and centre ken, uhhh, we didn’t see this happen duhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, and it will be the funniest shit ever as Ireland gets cleared for a intergalactic motorway. This will be so much fun.
I told yous. STEM nerds having a tough time with women, I sent you fucking links to Roissy and the Roosh V forum and you talked shit behind my fucking back in order to get off with a lassie. You were fat and you asked for help and I sent you links to Chaos and Pain, Marks Daily Apple and loaned you a copy of Good Calories Baad Calories. And you still had the gall to moan and whinge and whine. Oh yeahhh man, Obama, a lazy entitled shit who never worked a day in his life, bread and circuses bread and circuses, free market, nah it’s all fucking nonsense. Vote him in. All this complain about the church holdin kids during de 70s and then you decide to vote in a children’s referendum that puts them as guineas to the state. My grandfather broke his fucking back burying dead bodies, in the hope his family, his lassie, his kids, would be worth something. And what the fuck do we have now? This degenerate culture where everything is a fucking shamrock atop of a house of cards. My family is big, really big. Feminism, you see the antagonism everywhere. When people you know are the embodiment of fucking death, then it gets a great deal darker. The cousin of yours who is gettin married to a woman eight years his senior? Everyone says it’s all gravy. But real life and statistics and down syndrome and miscarriages beg to differ. But they love each other. Newspeak. Marriage is not marriage.
You all fucking deserve what you get. You, me, we are not part of it. We are Ralph and it be getting to Lord of the Flies shit. I am going to tear my way through wine lassie and song like the last days of Rome and I am going to speak honestly, bluntly from now on. I hate lying. Not the asperery fucktard anymore, but if you ask me about race, and women, and economics, I’m going to be blunt with you. You’ll laugh when I tell you about ideological subversion, about pantheism and Christianity not being bullshit, about fat people, about the fact that Colm Toibin cannot write for turkey.
Last one left up, turn the light off.