Southern Star Public House, 9 Southern Rd, Cork city, Ireland.

The Southern Star, Cork city.

Spending an hour or two in this bar over a few evenings will give good insight into what the general south-western Irish denizens are like. This is a pub that caters for a mixture of Cork city’s trades and business people. For those who are class conscious the patrons could be best described as middle and working class.

It’s necessary when describing south-west Ireland to sometimes revert to un-Politically Correct class structures because in places like Cork, Kerry and Limerick a large proportion of the population can be best described as an underclass or sink-estate type. They are a type of animalistic sub-human that couldn’t even be compared to rabid hyenas. Thievery and thuggery is their raison d'être and they have the sexual inclinations of lobotomised baboons – hence the high occurrence of inbreeding, incest, sexual assault, rape and murder in this part of Ireland.

You don’t ever go near the type of pubs these people drink in; and if you do, you certainly won’t be in possession of your watch, wallet or purse when you leave – you’ll be lucky to get out with your limbs still attached.    

So if you’re in Cork city and you consider yourself either working or professional class the Southern Star might seem a good place to get to know the natives and perhaps make some contacts. In Cork this establishment is classed as upper crust, a place where the riff-raff won’t get past the threshold. Also, this pub leans towards sports, and people of this persuasion are usually, at least, mediocrely civil minded and processed of a moderate intelligence.

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But a visit to the Southern Star would turn these preconceptions on their heads; to say you’d be in for a shock would be an understatement. This pub and its clientele will turn your stomach inside out; you’ll be liable to puke up stuff you’ve never known you’ve eaten.

The owner of the Southern Star.

During my visits here three of the bar staff had mental health issues; one of them was quite severely cerebrally handicapped. But the aggressive halfwitted staff would be the least of your objections. It’s the clientele, the middle class Cork citizenry, that would drain the blood from your face and give you never before experienced bouts of nausea.

A perfect example would be the three besuited middle-aged males I encountered here at about 09:30pm one evening. These chaps would be considered professionals in Cork and might well be found working in some type of clerical position, bank or insurance or such like. You wouldn’t encounter a more ignoramus trio anywhere outside of rural Ireland, and the fact they were part of Cork’s elite made it all the more disgusting.

A lone man, a visitor to Cork, had entered prior to the trio of arseholes and was seated at the bar having a drink. It was easy to know he was new to the area, on a business trip or holiday perhaps, because the locals were eyeing him suspiciously – the way dogs that had never seen a bear before might react on meeting one for the first time.

The visitor was seated at the end of the bar watching television when the trio of morons came in. To the visitor’s right there was space for only two other people at the bar; and two of the trio sat on the stools that were there while the third dragged a stool from another part of the pub and squeezed up beside them.

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After ordering drinks the trio decided they hadn’t enough room because the thicko who had dragged up the third stool found it difficult to reach his drink on the bar. So, with a mindset that only an inbred backward Cork mongrel could process, one of them started to push up against the visitor in the hope of getting him to move – the ignorant bastards wanted him to vacate his seat so they could have his place.

Two of the lesser idiotic customers.

The look of surprise on the visitor’s face was worth writing home about when he realised what the trio were trying to do. But he wasn’t going to vacate his chosen spot in front of the telly for these three Cork arseholes. He requested that the trespasser leave his personal space and suggested that if they hadn’t enough room at the bar there were plenty of empty seats and tables just behind them – which there was, the pub was at about 15 percent capacity.

The three Cork arseholes wouldn’t give up, though, and kept leaning back against the visitor – like typical Irish arseholes they didn’t like their fatuity pointed out and could only answer by getting even stupider. After a few minutes of harassing the visitor one of the trio, a diminutive little prick with whitish hair, suddenly became exacerbated with his refusal to move; he actually turned to the man and told him that they wanted his seat.

He might enjoy the bra more than he’s letting on.

All this took place over the course of about 15 minutes and the visitor was visibly shocked. He told the trio that never before had he experienced such “fucking stupid pricks” and using his good sense he duly left this typical backward Cork dive.

The trio were delighted, they could then spread out along the bar and feel important. It was almost as disgusting to hear these three middle-aged Irish1 imbeciles sniggering like sink-estate morons as it was to watch their disgusting antics a few minutes earlier. And while it was going on an inbred slackjawed female barmaid fumbled around behind the bar with her mouth hanging open – a fucking meteor could land within 10 metres of her and she wouldn’t notice.  

A couple of things that’s unique about inbred Cork mongrels like this trio is that apart from being as thick as planks they have absolutely no shame. There’s no type of childish thuggery or insane stupidity that the majority of Cork or Kerry’s mainstream society wouldn’t be capable of undertaking – they were created as fools but their inbreeding has brought them into the realms of debauched insanity.

Another evening I was seated at the bar in this same pub when a middle-aged married couple came in and sat at a table across from me. The lady was obese and very butch looking while the male was petite and emanated meekness. The female proceeded to stare directly at me and anytime I returned her gawk it took her at least 15 or 20 seconds to avert her eyes – she was the type of Cork bitch that would be both willing and capable of breaking a man’s jaw.

Typically, a picture of a very stupid
Irish man (RIP) hangs on the wall.

The husband meanwhile was sat about half-a-metre from her with his shoulders hunched; as if afraid she’d lash out at anytime and give him a wallop – and I’m sure by the look of them both she gave him many a beating.

After a while I got sick of her demented staring and asked her if there was something troubling her. She responded by launching into a loud guffawing laugh that would have given a jack ass the shivers. When the petite husband saw me challenging her he slipped further away along the seat while hunching his shoulders even tighter – they left shortly afterwards and I’d bet my right arm the little man got a hiding on the way home.

What you discover fairly quickly in Cork is that not only are the people for the most part stupid but an abnormally high percentage of them have mental health issues. To challenge any Cork native is akin to arguing with a donkey that’s on steroids.

This idiotic female was most likely a lesbian; X and Y chromosomes radiated from every pore on her inbred face. The meek little husband was sequestered so as to keep up face in Cork; this bullying backward Irish woman probably wouldn’t even admit to herself that she’s attracted to her own sex, let alone anyone else.

As for the Southern Star and its owner, it’s much like any other mainstream pub in Cork city. It’s staffed for the most part by mental retards and caters for a type of halfwit that can best be described as subhuman. _______________ 1Ignoramus, Repulsive, Inbred, Stupid, Halfwits.