HOW’S YOUR GERMAN?

DaManBugs

On ROPS
On ROPs
Book Reviewer
The thing is I can walk into your world without a single problem.
Ah, sure you can! Apart from the fact that you can't speak Irish, Italian or German, let alone proper English. But I'll let you dream on, numbnuts! If it helps you to feel a little bit "better" about your miserable, pointless existence, why not?:smile::smile::smile:

MsG
 
I really can't imagine what it must be like for you to feel so incredibly inferior that you have to resort to obsessively following me around the ARRSE threads like a mindless stalker, desperately trying to prove the opposite, CrappyNoMark! Why don't you consult a specialist? It might help, who knows?:mrgreen::mrgreen::mrgreen:

MsG
I would say you crack me up with that sort of shite but given you are following an oft repeated script... I'd be lying if I did.

We know a liar, don't we boys and girls? Lying is a very bad thing isn't it.
 
Ah, sure you can! Apart from the fact that you can't speak Irish, Italian or German, let alone proper English. But I'll let you dream on, numbnuts! If it helps you to feel a little bit "better" about your miserable, pointless existence, why not?:smile::smile::smile:

MsG
Bugsy mate, I've seen your stone cladded shanty, its not like firms needing a translation service are kicking down the door to throw their money at you.
 

DaManBugs

On ROPS
On ROPs
Book Reviewer
Bugsy mate, I've seen your stone cladded shanty, its not like firms needing a translation service are kicking down the door to throw their money at you.
And what would you know about translation services, spackerman? You can't even speak passable English!

I have the feeling that Dooky_Boy is about to close down the fred. I wonder why.

MsG
 
Ah, sure you can! Apart from the fact that you can't speak Irish, Italian or German, let alone proper English. But I'll let you dream on, numbnuts! If it helps you to feel a little bit "better" about your miserable, pointless existence, why not?:smile::smile::smile:

MsG
I live in Sheffield. I go to Nottingham every few weeks and I'll be there on Monday at Trent Bridge for the 3rd day of the test. One of the things I do is photograph and document demonstrations and I cover basically Birmingham to Newcastle, Liverpool to Hull. It's a fair sized area but I like the 2 hours from home rule.
 
And what would you know about translation services, spackerman? You can't even speak passable English!

I have the feeling that Dooky_Boy is about to close down the fred. I wonder why.

MsG
Or he might permanently banned your account, at the moment on the secret cool gang Facebook page we are currently pooling our resources to bribe him, a certain Mod has a sliding scale starting with thread ban/ROPs all the way up to a site wide ban, problem is, his service arent cheap.

But enough of that, lets get back to the subject of your fathers sexual abuse being the cause of your lies.
 

DaManBugs

On ROPS
On ROPs
Book Reviewer
I live in Sheffield. I go to Nottingham every few weeks and I'll be there on Monday at Trent Bridge for the 3rd day of the test. One of the things I do is photograph and document demonstrations and I cover basically Birmingham to Newcastle, Liverpool to Hull. It's a fair sized area but I like the 2 hours from home rule.
In your previous post, you boasted that you could "step into my life, no problem". Yet you post a loada bollix that has nothing to do with "my life".

Get this: the vast part of my "formative years" were spent in the 1950s, Catholic Republic of Ireland. We were bitterly poor and lived in a so-called "parish house" with no leccy supply (which arrived four years after I'd left home), just oil lamps and we cooked on a peat Stanley stove, the fuel for which we had to fetch on a handcart from three miles away. The only water supply was outside in the two wash-kitchens bookending the outside bogs we had to use.

The first time I actually had new footwear was when I joined the British Army in 1966, before that, we only wore (second-hand and ill-fitting) shoes for the Sunday morning Mass, otherwise, we went barefoot. I was educated by the Irish Brotherhood, who, I'm firmly convinced, got their initial teacher training at the SS HQ in Munich. I've been a Socialist all my conscious life, following on from my Da and Granda, and yet you maintain that you could "step into my life, no problem". Explain to me how you'd actually do that, given my "back-story". I'd really like to know.

MsG
 
In your previous post, you boasted that you could "step into my life, no problem". Yet you post a loada bollix that has nothing to do with "my life".

Get this: the vast part of my "formative years" were spent in the 1950s, Catholic Republic of Ireland. We were bitterly poor and lived in a so-called "parish house" with no leccy supply (which arrived four years after I'd left home), just oil lamps and we cooked on a peat Stanley stove, the fuel for which we had to fetch on a handcart from three miles away. The only water supply was outside in the two wash-kitchens bookending the outside bogs we had to use.

The first time I actually had new footwear was when I joined the British Army in 1966, before that, we only wore (second-hand and ill-fitting) shoes for the Sunday morning Mass, otherwise, we went barefoot. I was educated by the Irish Brotherhood, who, I'm firmly convinced, got their initial teacher training at the SS HQ in Munich. I've been a Socialist all my conscious life, following on from my Da and Granda, and yet you maintain that you could "step into my life, no problem". Explain to me how you'd actually do that, given my "back-story". I'd really like to know.

MsG
I probably know people who know you. It's not difficult. You might have missed the bit where I said you there is a fair chance you were on the Ad Hoc committee looking in to Comrade Delta and it being one of the very few things you have ever posted on here that might be true.
 

DaManBugs

On ROPS
On ROPs
Book Reviewer
I probably know people who know you. It's not difficult. You might have missed the bit where I said you there is a fair chance you were on the Ad Hoc committee looking in to Comrade Delta and it being one of the very few things you have ever posted on here that might be true.
So how does that equate with being able to "walk into my world, no problem"? That's the point I asked you to explain and you've come back with stuff that has nothing to do with it. So, again, just how could you "walk into my world, no problem"?

MsG
 
In your previous post, you boasted that you could "step into my life, no problem". Yet you post a loada bollix that has nothing to do with "my life".

Get this: the vast part of my "formative years" were spent in the 1950s, Catholic Republic of Ireland. We were bitterly poor and lived in a so-called "parish house" with no leccy supply (which arrived four years after I'd left home), just oil lamps and we cooked on a peat Stanley stove, the fuel for which we had to fetch on a handcart from three miles away. The only water supply was outside in the two wash-kitchens bookending the outside bogs we had to use.

The first time I actually had new footwear was when I joined the British Army in 1966, before that, we only wore (second-hand and ill-fitting) shoes for the Sunday morning Mass, otherwise, we went barefoot. I was educated by the Irish Brotherhood, who, I'm firmly convinced, got their initial teacher training at the SS HQ in Munich. I've been a Socialist all my conscious life, following on from my Da and Granda, and yet you maintain that you could "step into my life, no problem". Explain to me how you'd actually do that, given my "back-story". I'd really like to know.

MsG

I think anyone can be a smelly decrepit failure in life, admittedly it would be hard for him to turn back time and get bummed by his dad, but apart from that he could step into your life.

The house in Fenian land sounds better than the dump you live in now.
 

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