Rural Ireland
Sep 12th 2011, 4:29 am
#16
Just Joined
Joined: Sep 2011
Posts: 2
Re: Rural Ireland
I was born and grew up in Ireland. I never saw anything along the lines you claim. If anything, it's the Nigerian who's had the hard time settling into Ireland.
Last edited by TonyK58; Sep 12th 2011 at 4:50 am.
Sep 12th 2011, 12:54 pm
#17
Éireann go Brách
Joined: Mar 2006
Location: White Man in Hammersmith Palais
Posts: 2,932
Sep 12th 2011, 2:07 pm
#18
Forum Regular
Joined: Nov 2005
Posts: 51
Re: Rural Ireland
whats trolling?
Sep 12th 2011, 2:34 pm
#19
Forum Regular
Joined: Jun 2009
Posts: 90
Sep 12th 2011, 2:42 pm
#20
Forum Regular
Joined: Nov 2005
Posts: 51
Re: Rural Ireland
cheers
Sep 12th 2011, 5:47 pm
#21
Forum Regular
Joined: May 2007
Location: Dublin (ex Nottingham)
Posts: 192
Re: Rural Ireland
Yep - me thinks she's a bit of a flamer - to say her other posts are just about not being able to get ITV on her Sky box in Spain. Poor girl obviously need something to pass her time when she can't watch Corrie.
Sep 12th 2011, 8:14 pm
#22
Banned
Joined: Apr 2011
Posts: 329
Re: Rural Ireland
Actually, I think it varies wherever you go in the country.
I find the Dubs the friendliest of all to English people, those in Cork the worst.
But you've got to remember no matter how bad the Irish might hate anyone else they loath themselves even more.
People from Cork hate the Kerry crowd, the Midlands seems to be despised by just about everyone else and even some poxy GAA match between two obscure towns usually ends up in a full-scale punch-up over some perceived slight.
Then throw into this mix the national self-loathing, huge inferiority complex and the whiney justification that the Irish are somehow special because they drink a lot and have good craic ( translated it means they can't hold their drink, could start an argument on their own in a 'phone box and usually end up face-down in a pool of their own Abrekebabra-infused vomit. )
Trust me, rural Ireland is an in-bred shithole.
I find the Dubs the friendliest of all to English people, those in Cork the worst.
But you've got to remember no matter how bad the Irish might hate anyone else they loath themselves even more.
People from Cork hate the Kerry crowd, the Midlands seems to be despised by just about everyone else and even some poxy GAA match between two obscure towns usually ends up in a full-scale punch-up over some perceived slight.
Then throw into this mix the national self-loathing, huge inferiority complex and the whiney justification that the Irish are somehow special because they drink a lot and have good craic ( translated it means they can't hold their drink, could start an argument on their own in a 'phone box and usually end up face-down in a pool of their own Abrekebabra-infused vomit. )
Trust me, rural Ireland is an in-bred shithole.
Sep 12th 2011, 9:31 pm
#23
Forum Regular
Joined: Nov 2005
Posts: 51
Re: Rural Ireland
Actually, I think it varies wherever you go in the country.
I find the Dubs the friendliest of all to English people, those in Cork the worst.
But you've got to remember no matter how bad the Irish might hate anyone else they loath themselves even more.
People from Cork hate the Kerry crowd, the Midlands seems to be despised by just about everyone else and even some poxy GAA match between two obscure towns usually ends up in a full-scale punch-up over some perceived slight.
Then throw into this mix the national self-loathing, huge inferiority complex and the whiney justification that the Irish are somehow special because they drink a lot and have good craic ( translated it means they can't hold their drink, could start an argument on their own in a 'phone box and usually end up face-down in a pool of their own Abrekebabra-infused vomit. )
Trust me, rural Ireland is an in-bred shithole.
I find the Dubs the friendliest of all to English people, those in Cork the worst.
But you've got to remember no matter how bad the Irish might hate anyone else they loath themselves even more.
People from Cork hate the Kerry crowd, the Midlands seems to be despised by just about everyone else and even some poxy GAA match between two obscure towns usually ends up in a full-scale punch-up over some perceived slight.
Then throw into this mix the national self-loathing, huge inferiority complex and the whiney justification that the Irish are somehow special because they drink a lot and have good craic ( translated it means they can't hold their drink, could start an argument on their own in a 'phone box and usually end up face-down in a pool of their own Abrekebabra-infused vomit. )
Trust me, rural Ireland is an in-bred shithole.
Sep 13th 2011, 11:22 am
#24
Banned
Joined: Apr 2011
Posts: 329
Re: Rural Ireland
Rural Ireland is like stepping back in time when people used baling twine instead of belts for their trousers and you can still see two or three tractors in a pub car park.
It's quaint when you're visiting but eventually you'll yearn to have a drink somewhere that doesn't always smell of cow shit.
And a packet of bacon fries doesn't constitute pub grub.
Sep 13th 2011, 4:16 pm
#25
Banned
Joined: Apr 2011
Posts: 329
Re: Rural Ireland
An man moves into a tiny village in County Kerry, walks into the pub and promptly orders three beers. The bartender raises his eyebrows, but serves the man three beers, which he drinks quietly at a table, alone.
An hour later, the man has finished the three beers and orders three more.This happens yet again. The next evening the man again orders and drinks three beers at a time, several times. Soon the entire town is whispering about the "Man Who Orders Three Beers."
Finally, a week later, the bartender broaches the subject on behalf of the town. "I don't mean to pry, but folks around here are wondering why youalways order three beers?"
"Tis odd, isn't it?" the man replies, "You see, I have two brothers, and one went to America, and the other to Australia. We promised each other that we would always order an extra two beers whenever we drank as a way of keeping up the family bond."
The bartender and the whole town were pleased with this answer, and soon the "Man Who Orders Three Beers" became a local celebrity and source of pride to the village, even to the extent that out-of-towners would come to watch him
drink. Then, one day, the man comes in and orders only two beers. The bartender pours them with a heavy heart. This continues for the rest of the evening: he orders only two beers. The word flies around town. Prayers are offered for the soul of one of the brothers.
The next day, the bartender says to the man, "Folks around here, me first of all, want to offer condolences to you for the death of your brother. You know-the two beers and all...."
The man ponders this for a moment, then replies, "You'll be happy to hear that my two brothers are alive and well. It's just that I, myself, have decided to give up drinking for Lent."
An hour later, the man has finished the three beers and orders three more.This happens yet again. The next evening the man again orders and drinks three beers at a time, several times. Soon the entire town is whispering about the "Man Who Orders Three Beers."
Finally, a week later, the bartender broaches the subject on behalf of the town. "I don't mean to pry, but folks around here are wondering why youalways order three beers?"
"Tis odd, isn't it?" the man replies, "You see, I have two brothers, and one went to America, and the other to Australia. We promised each other that we would always order an extra two beers whenever we drank as a way of keeping up the family bond."
The bartender and the whole town were pleased with this answer, and soon the "Man Who Orders Three Beers" became a local celebrity and source of pride to the village, even to the extent that out-of-towners would come to watch him
drink. Then, one day, the man comes in and orders only two beers. The bartender pours them with a heavy heart. This continues for the rest of the evening: he orders only two beers. The word flies around town. Prayers are offered for the soul of one of the brothers.
The next day, the bartender says to the man, "Folks around here, me first of all, want to offer condolences to you for the death of your brother. You know-the two beers and all...."
The man ponders this for a moment, then replies, "You'll be happy to hear that my two brothers are alive and well. It's just that I, myself, have decided to give up drinking for Lent."
Sep 17th 2011, 2:15 pm
#26
Forum Regular
Joined: Mar 2011
Posts: 30
Re: Rural Ireland
Dear Cuthbert, on behalf of the rest of humanity, take a break: shall we say the rest of your pathetic life ? Seeing as how all the negativity and tales of bad experiences are coming from you, I like everyone else has worked out that the common denominator is in fact 'you'. I can see why you have received such a warm welcome from the friendliest nation on earth. I'm sure this post won't stop your juvenile stick prodding but just wanted to express how valued your constructive comments are on all your visited articles and posts. Not
Oh, by the way. You were itching to know why I haven't moved to Ireland yet? Well 'oh valued member of society', that was because my elderly mother was seriously ill. There, make a joke of that and then back to your empty worthless life where your only company is your sad bulletin posts. I'll await your low intelligence, juvenile reposte with baited breath.
Oh, by the way. You were itching to know why I haven't moved to Ireland yet? Well 'oh valued member of society', that was because my elderly mother was seriously ill. There, make a joke of that and then back to your empty worthless life where your only company is your sad bulletin posts. I'll await your low intelligence, juvenile reposte with baited breath.
Sep 17th 2011, 4:45 pm
#27
Forum Regular
Joined: Jun 2009
Posts: 90
Re: Rural Ireland
An man moves into a tiny village in County Kerry, walks into the pub and promptly orders three beers. The bartender raises his eyebrows, but serves the man three beers, which he drinks quietly at a table, alone.
An hour later, the man has finished the three beers and orders three more.This happens yet again. The next evening the man again orders and drinks three beers at a time, several times. Soon the entire town is whispering about the "Man Who Orders Three Beers."
Finally, a week later, the bartender broaches the subject on behalf of the town. "I don't mean to pry, but folks around here are wondering why youalways order three beers?"
"Tis odd, isn't it?" the man replies, "You see, I have two brothers, and one went to America, and the other to Australia. We promised each other that we would always order an extra two beers whenever we drank as a way of keeping up the family bond."
The bartender and the whole town were pleased with this answer, and soon the "Man Who Orders Three Beers" became a local celebrity and source of pride to the village, even to the extent that out-of-towners would come to watch him
drink. Then, one day, the man comes in and orders only two beers. The bartender pours them with a heavy heart. This continues for the rest of the evening: he orders only two beers. The word flies around town. Prayers are offered for the soul of one of the brothers.
The next day, the bartender says to the man, "Folks around here, me first of all, want to offer condolences to you for the death of your brother. You know-the two beers and all...."
The man ponders this for a moment, then replies, "You'll be happy to hear that my two brothers are alive and well. It's just that I, myself, have decided to give up drinking for Lent."
An hour later, the man has finished the three beers and orders three more.This happens yet again. The next evening the man again orders and drinks three beers at a time, several times. Soon the entire town is whispering about the "Man Who Orders Three Beers."
Finally, a week later, the bartender broaches the subject on behalf of the town. "I don't mean to pry, but folks around here are wondering why youalways order three beers?"
"Tis odd, isn't it?" the man replies, "You see, I have two brothers, and one went to America, and the other to Australia. We promised each other that we would always order an extra two beers whenever we drank as a way of keeping up the family bond."
The bartender and the whole town were pleased with this answer, and soon the "Man Who Orders Three Beers" became a local celebrity and source of pride to the village, even to the extent that out-of-towners would come to watch him
drink. Then, one day, the man comes in and orders only two beers. The bartender pours them with a heavy heart. This continues for the rest of the evening: he orders only two beers. The word flies around town. Prayers are offered for the soul of one of the brothers.
The next day, the bartender says to the man, "Folks around here, me first of all, want to offer condolences to you for the death of your brother. You know-the two beers and all...."
The man ponders this for a moment, then replies, "You'll be happy to hear that my two brothers are alive and well. It's just that I, myself, have decided to give up drinking for Lent."
If your gone slag, do it right !
Sep 17th 2011, 4:53 pm
#28
Forum Regular
Joined: Jun 2009
Posts: 90
Re: Rural Ireland
...
Last edited by smidsy; Sep 17th 2011 at 5:01 pm.
Sep 17th 2011, 4:57 pm
#29
Forum Regular
Joined: Mar 2011
Posts: 30
Re: Rural Ireland
Is this aimed at cuthbert or me? If the latter, totally lost now