Michael and Danny Healy-Rae: Ireland’s and Kerry's Most Colourful and Fatuous Political Dynasty.

Irish Member of Parliament, Danny Healy-Rae,
could well pass for a gorilla.

Recently I was invited by a company executive to view a PowerPoint presentation he was giving in attempt to dissuade his colleagues and partners from extending their company into the Republic of Ireland. It had been suggested some months previously that it would be financially advantageous if this company were to open a subsidiary in southern Ireland.

This proposal had been put forward for various reasons, some of which were to do with Ireland’s very favourable tax rates and the fact that property there is now being almost given away. Though, I suspect, it was more to do with Ireland’s very generous corporation tax and its very easily manipulated tax inspectors than anything else.

The executive – who was very much against his company setting up operations in backward Ireland – hadn’t much trouble finding suitable content for his presentation. That’s because there’s recently been a General Election (GE) in Ireland; and when he scanned news coverage relating to this event he quickly found what he needed to deter his partners from taking a financial risk there.

Josephine Byrne, Profit Protection Manager, Boots the Chemist

Subway and An Garda Síochána, Mill Street, Galway

Sophie Toscan du Plantier   

Danny Healy-Rae with his brother Michael. Both are chips of Jackie’s old block.

The stars of his presentation were two Irish politicians, Michael and Danny Healy-Rae, both of whom had been enormously successful in getting elected to the Irish Parliament – in their relevant constituencies in south-west Ireland both won an amazing percentage of the vote.

In Ireland they like to promote the pidgin language that’s known as Gaelic so Members of Parliament, instead of being known as MPs, are referred to as TDs (Teachta Dála). While it’s a moot point whether these two Healy-Raes should be known as TDs or MPs, what’s a certainty about them is that two more coarser and ignorant fucktards could not be found outside of a veterinarian psychiatric facility that treats nothing but alcoholic gorillas.

Michael and Danny are the sons of Jackie Healy-Rae and to say both are a chip of the old block would be the century’s gold-medal winning understatement. Jackie, now deceased, was a vulgar, unintelligent and self-serving bastard with the morals of a reptile; yet the ingrates in south-west Ireland ensured he was an ever-presence in the Irish Parliament since he first stood for election in 1973.

Danny and Michael’s father, Jackie. He
kept his comb-over gelled with boot polish.

As an independent TD Jackie Healy-Rae sat slackjawed in the Irish Parliament for nigh on forty years with his comb-over gelled down with black boot polish1. On the few occasions the government of the day were stuck for a supporting parliamentary vote Jackie could be called upon, albeit, his support always had a price. After voting for something he hadn’t a clue about he would then have probably trotted happily back to Kerry with a nice fat backhander in his pocket and joyfully threw his constituents a few scraps from his table.

Farmer’s Market, Cornmarket St, Cork

English Eoin, Irish Examiner

English Market, Cork city

The fucktards in Kerry are delighted with Danny's win. Now they’ll be able to book appointments with their GPs :-)

When Jackie finally decided to retire the slackjaws in south-west Ireland dutifully trooped out and, in Jackie’s stead, voted his inbred and ignorant son Michael in as their TD. Then in the recent GE they added to this fog of apeshit that constantly emanates from this part of Ireland by electing Jackie’s other son, Danny, to the Irish Parliament.

Danny’s most recent newsworthy escapade was where he and a neighbour, Patrick Kieran Traynor2, attacked and assaulted each other over a boreen’s gateway. With all the ignorance and finesse of lobotomised gorillas in Kerry’s bleak and rock strew landscape they fought like two wild dogs over the use of a laneway that ran through a bog – it’s exactly what a pair of feral canines would do if they found a piece of rotted meat. Both ended up being treated in hospital for the injuries they inflicted on each other.  

Fighting like low-land gorillas over waste ground, boundary fences or goat-tracks is very common in rural Ireland; you’d find it very hard to find two neighbouring farmers in this country who don’t spend their lifetimes at each other’s throats – as will their inbred sprogs when they eventually inherit the piece of swampy farmland. These inbred lowbrows are born with a major chip on their shoulders and the only time the backward bastards don’t fight and squabble is when they are asleep.

Neil Prendeville, publicly wanking Irish DJ

Will Ireland be dangerous for them?

What makes the Irish Picts tick

What also nauseates about the Healy-Rae clan is how blatantly self-serving they are. For instance: Danny owns a haulage and plant hire company that’s managed by his son Johnny; and almost the entire business this company gets comes from Kerry County Council. Recently released records show that this company takes the biggest percentage of monies paid by the council for such work. But why shouldn’t Danny’s company be racking in the cash; before being elected to Dáil Éireann Danny was a Kerry county councillor as is his son Johnny.

A good part of the executive’s PowerPoint presentation was given over to the Healy-Raes and the tribe of fucktards that constantly votes for them. The Healy-Raes and the coterie of inbred idiots that elected them convinced the company’s management that backward Ireland wasn’t a place to do business in under any circumstances.  

But what really clinched it for the executive’s argument to stay out of Ireland was an article he had come across in the Irish Examiner. The Examiner is the leading newspaper in south-west Ireland; and when the company’s management were shown its fatuous and sycophantic attempts to justify the election of the two Healy-Rae wankers they came to the conclusion that Ireland was completely down the sewer and that investing money there would be madness.

This company’s management rightfully saw that the election of two ingrate fucktards to the Irish Parliament just might possibly be explained away through electoral fraud – something that could be righted with proper policing. But for a major provincial Irish newspaper to come out in support of them in such a fatuous manner can’t be explained away with anything other than extreme backwardness and stupidity.

Josephine Byrne, Boots the Chemist, Ireland

Ulster Bank, Galway city

Ulster Bank, Cork city

The Examiner’s writer, Donal Hickey3, shamelessly bleated on about how wonderful the self-serving and fucktarded Healy-Raes are. He describes this backward and inbred Kerry clan as Ireland's most colourful political dynasty. Then he goes on to claim the Healy-Rae tribe is a well-oiled organisation that has become an insatiable vote-hovering machine due to decades of hard work – the only hard work these boys ever undertook was to fill their personal coffers.

Hickey seems to be a brainless little Oirish bastard; he might as well have wrote an article praising the savage that beat French woman, Sophie Toscan du Plantier, to death with a rock in south-west Ireland a few years ago. Or one lauding the scumbag, Gerald Barry, who raped and killed Swiss student, Manuela Riedo, in Galway.   

Apart from the fanciful adjectival phrases describing how wonderful the Healy-Raes are, Donal Hickey couldn’t even come up with one thing advantageous that either Michael or Danny has done for the betterment of south-west Ireland or its people – and that’s because they haven’t done anything other than throw crumbs and sops to the monkey-esque populace. The best Hickey could do in regards the Healy-Rae’s melioration of south-west Ireland and the people’s livelihoods was to make this claim: “Michael is known to be particularly influential in dealing with access to health services”.

Fancy that? It seems that in this part of Ireland if people need medical assistance or treatment they just can’t visit their local GP or hospital without first getting their local Member of Parliament to book them a place. This would have been handy for Danny Healy-Rae when he needed hospitalisation after he and his neighbour fought like apes over a patch of bog: his brother Michael would have surely pulled out all the stops to ensure he was quickly treated in the local hospital.

I can imagine an injured person phoning for an ambulance in south-west Ireland:

Caller: “Bejaysus, araghhhh, I need help … scream … an ambulance, my two fuc’ing

legs are broke. Paddy O’-cunting-Toole, the blind cunt, drove over me with his donkey and cart and smashed my legs ta shite. Will ya send an ambulance out for me?”  

Operator: “Begorrah ya bastard, it’s 1-o’clock, what are ya ringing at this time for? Ya know we have our lunch between I- and 2-o’clock. Ya can phone back, ya cunt, after 2 … and what was that ya said ‘bout O’Toole driving over someone? Jayus, he did the same thing only a few weeks ago. Is he and his donkey blind or what?”

Caller: “Oh fuck, I’m very sorry ‘bout your lunch, didn’t know what the time was … the donkey stood on me watch and broke it. O’Toole is blind as a bat but I think the ass can see alright … araghhhh … I’m in huge pain, can you send a fucking ambulance?”

Operator: “Now listen you, my name’s Patrick Sean Liam O’Foyle-O’Sullivan-O’Brien an’ I’m related to people in Dáil Éireann, I won’t be putting up with aggression and bad language from the likes a you … do ya hear me ya gobshite?”

Caller: “Oh fucking Jayus I’m sorry … my shin bone is out through my fuc’king skin … araghhhh … I’m bleeding like a stuck pig. Jayus, please send me an ambulance or I’ll bleed ta death … oh jayus … I have two grand, lovely children … and I think I see O’Toole’s ass coming again”.

Operator: “Well now, watch ya’re mouth … oh yeah, it was an ambulance ya were phoning ‘bout … well now, we can’t be just sending ambulances out at the drop of a hat every fuc’ing hour. Who did ya vote for at the last election?

Caller: “I never voted in my life, sure I don’t know how to write and sure then how could I vote. But my wife … she voted for that Healy-Rae fellow, the one that broke his neighbour’s neck over the boreen.”

Operator: “She voted for the Healy-Raes, ya say? Well now, that’s good, that might be enough. The first thing you have to do now boyo is contact Michael Healy-Rae and ask if he’ll sanction the sending out of an ambulance for you.

“But it’s a quarter past 1 now and he won’t be home from Dáil Éireann yet. He should be home by about 8-o'clock this evening and then you can ring him in the pub. If he thinks ya’re worth sending an ambulance out for he’ll give us a call and let us know … if yar leg didn’t stop bleeding yet ya should take off yar shirt and tie it around the bit that’s cut.

“Was it O’Toole ya said ran over ya … do ya think he was drunk? If he was drunk we just might have to get An Garda Síochána involved … it’s a serious offence to be in charge of an ass while under the influence. I’ll run that by the Healy-Raes if they call me ... if they decide to send an ambulance out for ya.”    

So there you have it, it’s ease of medical treatment that entices the inbred fucktards in south-west Ireland to rush out at every General Election and vote for a clan of self-serving Neanderthals to represent them in the national parliament. _______________ 1Yes, he actually used shoe polish to colour his comb-over and keep it in place.   

2Note how a lot of the inbred morons in this part of Ireland have bestowed themselves with double-barreled surnames. The double name is supposed to make them important; it’s similar to how sink-estate morons try to up their status in society by blinging themselves up. And like the sink-estate halfwits don’t realise the copious amounts of meretricious jewelry denotes them as idiots, the ingrates in south-west Ireland will never know that the double-barreled surnames simply points them out as emotionally retarded fucktards.

3It seems to be a prerequisite that one has an IQ of 50 or below before being considered for a position with the Oirish Examiner.       

Donal McAuliffe, Cork Training Centre (formerly SOLAS, FAS, AnCO), Bishopstown, Cork city, Ireland.

Is there any race on this planet that hasn’t heard rumours about the Irish being stupid, drunken, lazy and backward?

At least all of the European’s taxpayer’s money isn’t
wasted. Some of it is spent on cherry blossoms.

I suspect that if you parachuted into the village of the most obscure Amazonian tribe and asked the first person you met about Ireland they’d say: “ah, the place that everyone talks about, where there’s a lot of drunkenness and the people are little more than white hairless apes”.

If a tribesman did say this he wouldn’t be far wrong. The Irish operate in a different realm to everyone else; it wasn’t celestial provenanced misfortune which, over the centuries, caused millions of Irish to emigrate, rather it was their general stupidity that caused them to make an eternal failure of their homeland.

Donal McAuliffe and the educational facility now known as the Cork Training Centre1 shows just one of the many ways in which the Irish constantly show themselves to be not only egregiously backward and stupid but also completely and utterly shameless. The atrocious carry-on to be witnessed in this European taxpayer funded Irish training centre is beyond parody – the sheer scale of the stupidity to be found here is actually criminal.  

Mr McAuliffe was/is employed in this educational facility as the instructor on an Industrial Automation - Programmable Automation course. This is a 16 week introductory course which is supposed to give pupils a taste of what programming robotic machinery is like. How successful one is on this course dictates whether it’s worth pursuing further training in this discipline.

John Fitzgibbons and Timothy Owens, Cork Education and Training

Elaine Looney and Long Kay, Cork College of Commerce

Cork College of Commerce & An Garda Siochana

Programming robots and automated factory lines isn’t for the feeble minded let alone the mentally retarded. For instance, it would be a waste of time doing this course if you weren’t capable of changing a flat tyre on a car or replacing a lightbulb. But the only qualifications needed to take this course in the Cork Training Centre is basic computer literacy and an ability to differentiate between colours – being colourblind disqualifies a potential student.

The typical Cork boyos don’t have very high IQs.

Computer literacy in Cork means being able to switch on a computer and perhaps also being capable of opening the Microsoft Word application – if you don’t wet the bed night after night in Cork you’re considered educated. Even so, it would be bad enough if the backward Cork bastards stuck to these admittance terms, but they don’t.

I witnessed one of Donal McAuliffe’s classes and it was one of the most disgusting spectacles of Irish backwardness that I’ve ever come across. There were 12 students in the class and 9 of them had no business being there at all. 3 out of this 9 were special needs (fucking swivel-eyed mental retards) and the other 6 ranged from thugs to idiots. One of the thugs was Niall O’Sullivan – it was his criminal antics which led me to know about this fatuous course in the Cork Training Centre.

There were only three people doing this course to whom it might have any value and only one of these was Irish, the other two were Polish. I spoke to the latter two and their opinion was that, whilst they were interested in the subject, it was a waste of time doing the course in the company of so many retards, thugs and idiots – try concentrating in the company of one moron and it’s impossible, let alone nine.

Irish Paederast, Darrage Wiseman, attempts to become teacher

Eleanor Coughlan and Ger Looney, St John’s College, Cork

Ian Spillane, Cork College of Commerce

The course was an episode of fun, frolicing and thuggery for the majority of the class. To teach these Irish arseholes how to tie their shoelaces would be problematic, to say nothing of learning them how to use a computer to programme a piece of automated equipment. They spent their time annoying and pestering the few who were interested in completing and being successful in the course.   

The two Poles were open-mouthed when they realised the stupidity they were amidst.

The only thing that made it tolerable for the two Poles was that while doing this course they were getting their rent paid whilst also being given the cash amount of around €200 per week by the Irish Deptment of Social Protection (IDoSP).  

This also would have been the case with the nine imbeciles; each of them would have been getting rent allowance and a weekly handout from the Irish government – ultimately paid for by the German, French and UK taxpayer. Between the former and the later they’d have been getting anywhere up to €350 per week – any wonder why so many Africans and Asians want to live in Western Europe? Most of them would have been forced by the IDoSP to do some or other educational course in order to retain their weekly out-of-work payments.

Forcing the likes of these 9 witless arseholes to do courses also makes Ireland look good when a UN organisation (UNICEF) does a global wide survey investigating what percentage of each country’s youth are partaking in education. Ireland is awash with witless imbeciles being forced to do educational courses by IDoSP. And when the UN calls doing a survey the Irish can fraudulently claim to have a high percentage of their youth in education – basically, the Irish are doing the only thing that they’re good at, which is fooling themselves.

Donal McAuliffe fits in quite well with the inane bullshit that the Cork Training Centre puts forward as education. He’s an arrogant little twat with a sense of self-importance that would shadow King Kong. He wasn’t very interested in even helping the few who were genuinely interested in gaining knowledge about Industrial Automation. 

The Poles told me of how he’d fob them off when they’d ask for help, information or advice. Eventually McAuliffe, annoyed at being asked too many questions, told one of the Poles to “latch-onto” one of the 9 morons mentioned above. This was much like instructing him to ask a random drunken Irish yob to advise him about changing the headgasket on his car’s engine.

Josephine Byrne, Profit Protection Manager, Boots the Chemist

Subway and An Garda Síochána, Mill Street, Galway

Sophie Toscan du Plantier      

What’s very possible about Donal McAuliffe’s annoyance at being asked to actually instruct those whom he was being paid to teach is that the fucking idiot probably didn’t know enough about the subject to be able to inform or advise on it.

Paddy always had a name for irrational daftness.

The Irish try to overcome their ubiquitousness of dumbness and backwardness by taking grade-inflation to unbelievably high levels. McAuliffe, simply because this position had become available, might well have been handed the qualification needed to teach it after a few weeks playing with a wind-up clockwork toy. 

And in Ireland it doesn’t make any difference that McAuliffe may be unqualified to teach this class because only a very small percentage of the students who do it have any actual competency in it and might go on to make a career out of it.

Basically, the very small percentage of people who are successful on this particular course, and go on to study it further, are bright enough to pick it up without any instruction. If they had the equipment at home and could do the course online they’d get the same results, without going near inbred morons like McAuliffe and the Cork Training Centre.

But what was amazing about this particular class was that all of the participants were – even though 3 of them had mental health issues – successful in the final exam.

One of the Polish people explained why. The class was split in half for the final exam; 6 did the test one day while the other half did it the following day. To be successful in the exam the examinees had to programme a small model of automotive equipment that McAuliffe had set up earlier.

Garda threaten to rape Corrib protester

Sympathies for a sex offender … again

Garda KoalaBear, Brideswell, Cork  

If Donal McAuliffe programmed these automations
they’d probably smash up the factory.

At one stage during the exam one of the Polish chaps witnessed McAuliffe walking the most severely handicapped student right through the exam. One of the Poles said: it was laughable, the student was so idiotic that on a couple of occasions he defied what McAuliffe was telling him to do.

It seems that McAuliffe was twice contradicted by this student when he had showed him how to bring about a particular action: the student actually told McAuliffe he was wrong and that there was a better way of doing it.

One part of the exam, said the Pole, involved McAuliffe having disconnected a wire that ran to a miniature motor on the model to be programmed. The 10 wires that ran to the various motors on the model were quite visible and even a monkey would have spotted that one was disconnected. But even if you didn’t spot it, the fact that the motor didn’t work would entice you to check whether or not it was getting power; therefore you’d immediately check that all its wires were connected.

McAuliffe gave the student numerous hints and clues that a wire had been removed. But the student, probably feeling very important with the attention he was getting, insisted it had to be a “software” problem. This fellow wouldn’t have even known what software actually meant, to him it was just a word he had heard in association with computers. But McAuliffe persevered and eventually the halfwitted idiot passed the exam – most of the moronic students would have been prompted through the exam like this.

I’ve spoken with this particular student and cognitively impaired doesn’t even begin to describe him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had difficulty setting the time on an analogue timepiece. A complete and utter moron, but the worst type of moron because he really believed himself to be quite intelligent and clever – an utterly overestimation of his own intelligence which gave him a nauseating arrogance; exactly like the majority of people in Ireland’s south-west.  

The result of this kind of bullshit is that the Cork Training Centre can claim to have a very high percentage of successful course and exam completions. And the alumni can be found wandering around the south-west of Ireland with their mouths open and with urine staining their trousers.

Niall O’Sullivan, Douglas, Cork city

St. Brigid’s Mental Hospital, Ballinasloe

University College Hospital, Cork

Even robots would run away
screaming from Corkonians.

The Cork Training Centre is, like a lot of other Irish educational institutes, basically a gimmick. Such places are used to soak up Brussels’ largess, where cronies, regardless of qualifications or fitness, are kept in cushy and well paid jobs. Another benefit of it is that it keeps a vast number of unemployed Cork imbeciles from urinating and defecating on the streets during daylight hours; they can spend their days staring open-mouthed at a slackjawed instructor while retaining their €120 per week rent allowance and €200 per week dole payment.         

If you live in Ireland awhile, and get used to it, you’ll soon find it’s not only common to meet teachers, gardai (Irish police) and nurses who are unqualified and extremely dumb but also some who are actually frothing at the mouth through insanity. I’ve experienced incomprehensible stupidity in Irish nurses, teachers and gardai.   

As for the majority of other teachers and staff in the Cork Training Centre: they are typically Oirish, you’ll find a large number of these that can can only be described as inbred ingrates, and quite a few that have mental health problems.

They are of a type that are mediocrely more intelligent than their peers in the ubiquitously thick south-western Irish populace. But you have to remember that these people believe the general citizenry of south-west Ireland to be normal; that the populace in rural Ireland is intelligently equal to other First World populations – they’re not, the average IQ in Cork is 81, plus, there’s an abnormally high level of mental retardedness and insanity.

A pic from the TV series Father Ted.

Thus, being a bit more cleverer than their peers, they believe themselves to be super-bright and on a par with the best Harvard graduates. When you couple this with their unbelievable arrogance it makes for a bunch of extremely nauseating and idiotic pricks. 

All in all, they are mostly a type of ignoramus nincompoop that would not be allowed darken the door of a school, college or training facility anywhere else in the world – a sad type of backward bastard that would give the writers of Father Ted endless material from which to work. 

A YouTube clip from the very successful TV comedy Father Ted. Its portrayal of life in provincial Ireland, while hilarious, isn’t far removed from the truth.

The one thing that will forever stick in your mind after having first-hand experience of these backward Oirish mongrels is their utter shamelessness. No act of idiocy, no matter how atrocious, causes them discomposure or embarrassment. Regardless of endless failures and fiascos they’ll plough on with an ubiquitous simper and sense of indomitability. There’s no lower limit to the depths that these shameless backward pricks will sink to.

What’s criminal about what they’re at in the Cork Training Centre is that they don’t actually give a fuck about education. It means nothing to them; and the fact that an uneducated youth will drag the country down even further than it already is runs of them like water of a duck.

Anyone that has experienced the Irish will tell that the populace are proportionally more oafish than all other races. A much greater percentage of Irish people, more than any other population, have an IQ quotient which is below 70 – borderline retards and full retards. And the further west you go the dumber the people get.

If ever there was a population that needed education and adequately managed centres of learning it is south-west Ireland. And they’re not getting it, even though the European taxpayers has been paying through the nose for it over the last forty years.

Instead the European taxpayer’s largess is being spent on keeping inane slackjawed bastards in jobs they’re totally unfit to do. And also to fund fatuous Irish arrogance when they want to mislead a UN organisation into believing that they have a world beating percentage of their youth in education.
_______________
1This Irish educational facility is on its fourth name. It was first christened AnCO and, after financial irregularities and incompetent management were exposed, this was changed to FAS. Then, after a second bout of corruption and incompetence, they altered the name again, this time to SOLAS. And, yet again, after another spell of ineptness and fraudulence it morphed into its current moniker, Cork Training Centre.

Its history has nothing to show but a record of managemental ineptitude and financial fraudulence and each and every time its backwardness is exposed the Irish change the name. People might think the constant name changes were a way of hiding this educational institutes’ severe mismanagement and corruption from the Irish public. This isn’t the case: the Irish public are generally easy with corruption and stupidity, it’s why Ireland always was a monetary laughing stock and why it shall always remain so.

The real reason for this shameless name changing is in relation to the endless financial handouts that Ireland gets from Brussels. If it weren’t for the EU the Irish would not be able to pay their police, nurses or teachers or fund other public services. 

Each time the Irish go to Brussels looking for a few million euros they’re asked about what it is they intend spending the money on. For instance: 20-years ago they might have said they were going to use a particular handout to improve or upgrade an educational facility in Cork known as AnCO. And a few years later, when requesting yet another financial handout, they could claim they were going to use it to re-equip a Cork educational facility known as FAS.

If a civil servant had checked-out whether the Irish had already claimed they were using a handout to improve a FAS training facility in Cork he or she would find no record. And not unless the files were scrutinised would it become apparent that the Irish had already, only a few years before, claimed to have spent a handout on this same institute, because then it was known as AnCO.

As you can see, by constantly changing the name the Irish can mislead benefactors and lenders into believing they are spending the given alms on an increasing number of different educational facilities.

Eoin English, Irish Examiner & Cork Institute of Technology, Cork city, Ireland.

.@CIT_ie has prepared a plan for #Cork's famous Butter Exchange building. The fight begins now for funding https://t.co/F3Tbqv71MG

— Eoin English (@EoinBearla) November 4, 2015

This might be one of Eoin English’s better tweets. But considering the inanity of others this is not saying a lot in his favour.  

Eoin English: It’s to be wondered if this prick will now delete his fatuous tweets or if he has the neck to leave them in situ?

Cork city journalist, Eoin English, reveals that Cork Institute of Technology (CIT) have a plan for Cork’s “famous” Butter Exchange Building – if a Corkonian knows where No 3 Washington St is they’ll believe that everyone else also has this knowledge, and therefore assume it’s famous.

When these guys talk about a “plan” it’s best to be very wary because they’re a type of people who can’t wipe their own butts without getting excrement all over themselves.

Their plans usually consist of something that’s completely out of this world and inane to the point of insanity. Jack Lynch, a Cork man and an ex-Irish Prime Minister, once had a plan: he and his cronies had drawn up a very uncomplicated plot to invade the United Kingdom. It was uncomplicated in so far as they weren’t going to bother with strike aircraft, missiles or tanks (they didn’t have any); instead they were going to transport the troops across the border in clapped-out ex-London busses and armed with late Nineteenth century .303 rifles.  

I-kid-you-not, Jack Lynch, leading a country that was as penniless as a beggar’s dog, with the backing of many of his cronies, had seriously considered launching a military assault against the UK. This would have been worse than Iceland (the British supermarket chain, not the country) invading the United States.

English makes a very unimaginative utterance on his Twitter profile. Though he lives up to them: he assuredly puts words together
differently. By the way, there are about 1,025,109 words in the English language.

So when Eoin English announces that Cork has a “plan” for a dilapidated building that their former colonial masters erected early in the Eighteenth century one can only smile inwardly and hazard a guess as to what kind of mess their plan will result in. Will they attempt extend it into a highrise tower and let it stand there vacant for the next fifty years? Or perhaps they’ll place a very large platform on top and attempt use it as a city centre accessible extra runway for Cork airport? These suggestions mightn’t be as far-fetched as you’d think, because anythings possible with these genetically dysfunctional Irish loons.

It’s all very funny until you get to the last six words in Mr English’s tweet: “the fight begins now for funding”. Well, the slackjawed Irish developers won’t be funding it because they all went broke circa 2007. International investors are also out; you might as well ask them to Borneo to fund a space programme that’s been managed by lobotomised asylum inmates. For Cork to borrow money from an Irish bank is also a no no; Germans, in line with the 2007/8 bailout agreement, now call the shots in the Irish financial sector and no more money is being thrown at swivel-eyed loons to do with (read waste) as they please.

Which leaves the Irish government being the only possible source of funds. And this is where it gets interesting as the Irish state has been shamelessly lapping it up from the IMF and the European Central Bank since 2007. So, disregarding how the Cork halfwits will ruin the historic building that the English erected in 1710, the Irish government will probably throw as much money as is needed at Cork’s fatuous plan.

A typical Paddy.

Native Irish employees and civil servants were very upset when German personnel started managing their Dept of Finance. Word on the grapevine was that the natives found the Germans to be arrogant and short-tempered; given to acerbically talking down to their Irish underlings. The truth is that while the Germans did probably display arrogance and vitriolic verbosity to their Irish charges it wasn’t because they are racially bad-tempered or arrogant; it was more to do with their inability to suffer fools gladly.

"Let us all aim for a united Ireland achieved through peace and consensus" @ArthurGriffin speaking at DeV's grave pic.twitter.com/23L1HTncaI

— Niamh (@NiamhTraynor) October 30, 2015

Niamh Traynor and Níamh O' Donovan tweet in support of a united Ireland. It’s hard to believe both are stupid enough to want Northern Ireland to leave the security of the United Kingdom and the prosperity of Queen Elizabeth II and place itself under the jackboot of Deutschland. Obviously these two are stupid and of Pictish provenance.

As I’ve already said: the Irish don’t like being under the German yoke, it’s a bit of a piss-off to have fought so hard against the English only to now be under the thumb of Berlin. Thus, the Irish financial sector’s annoyance at its German overloads will very probably benefit the Cork gombeens pursuit of a grandiose building extravagance. They’ll hand the money over just to spite the Germans, and Brussels for insisting on their overlordship.       

The upshot and irony is that while German personnel are doing their best to bring propriety to the Irish economy and end Ireland’s alcoholic-esque dependence on handouts the gombeens in Cork are still in a position to get and waste German taxpayer’s money.

Meeting mayor of #Shanghai, Mr Yang Xiong. He normally only meets heads of state #corkshanghai10 pic.twitter.com/YHbLeL1Chk

— Eoin English (@EoinBearla) October 22, 2015

If an eight-year-old made a claim as fatuous as this the parents would probably be consulting a psychologist and complainng about their school.

Above tweet from Eoin English is a very good example of the sheer idiocy to be found in Ireland and in particular Cork. Mr English is a journalist with the Irish Examiner which is the dominant provincial newspaper in south-west Ireland. As you can see from his tweet he claims that the Mayor of Shanghai, Yang Xiong, in his professional capacity as Shanghai’s first citizen, does not meet anyone but “heads of state”.

Cork Lord Mayor, Chris O'Leary.

According to Eoin, if Donald Trump pitched up in Shanghai with a multi-billion dollar proposal the Mayor, Yang Xiong, would refuse to meet with him. And anyone else, be they oil rich sheiks or enormously wealthy Russian oligarchs, wouldn’t get a look in with the Mayor of Shanghai – tell that to a donkey and he’d kick you. They’d have to settle with discussing their business plans with a civil servant.

But this man, who is supposedly one of the more intelligent denizens in south-west Ireland, would have you believe that Yang Xiong dropped all his Mayoral conventions when Cork Lord Mayor, Chris O'Leary, showed up with his Pictish red face and barely an arse in his trousers.

Close up of Pat's Silver Magnolia award - v unusual for a non Shanghai native to receive the award #corkshanghai10 pic.twitter.com/kj5IrDjo1s

— Eoin English (@EoinBearla) October 21, 2015

Again in this tweet Eoin English shows himself to be a complete halfwitted prick. You’ll find that a lot of Cork natives fantasise this type of shit until such point as they believe it to be reality. I believe that if communities could be sectioned under the Mental Health Act, as insane individuals can, Cork and  south-west Ireland would be put under a Control Order – perhaps some affiliate of the UN being sent in to manage them.

Pat Ledwidge getting his “award”.
He’ll most likely spend the next
six months strutting around Cork
with it stuck to his forehead.

Here’s another tweet from this arsehole where he informs of Shanghai presenting a Cork city employee with an award. He claims that it’s “v[ery] unusual for a non Shanghai native to receive the award”. In fact, the award he talks about, Silver Magnolia, is reserved by the civil authorities in Shanghai solely for presentation to non-natives. On top of that, on September 17 Shanghai dished out 53 of these awards to various foreigners at the Xijiao State Guest Hotel – little more than a sop, the way you’d give a kid a pat on the head.

As you can see, Eoin English is a complete and utter arsehole. He couldn’t just tweet the facts to his followers without a large addendum of uniquely Oirish bullshit and blatant lies. A shamelessly childish attempt to boast about and exaggerate the importance of a few Irish pricks who erroneously believe they’ll have as much success begging from China as they do from Brussels.

If your 8-year-old daughter or son made such fantastical and easily proven false claims as Mr English does you’d be very concerned about them. If they didn’t desist from making them after they had been warned you’d be taking them to see a child psychologist. And this says a lot about the idiotic Eoin English: it’s not a run-of-the-mill psychiatrist he needs to see, it’s one who is acquainted with the malfunction of the prepubescent brain.

Mr English’s puerile fatuity doesn’t say very much for his employers in the Irish Examiner or the type of Oirish ingrate that buys and attempts to read that inane rag. But, nevertheless, Mr English is held in high esteem by his community in south-west Ireland and this says a lot for the eternal reputation this area has for chronic stupidity and backwardness.

He also says much for the veracity of my blogs and my relation of the atrocious monkey-esque behaviour I’ve experienced there. Think about it: if the people of south-west Ireland revere journalists with the mindsets of mentally retarded adolescents what are the rest of them like? You’ll find the answer to this if you take a gander through Blackdwarf’s Ireland or Blackdwarf’s Little-Helper.