/éire/

Magheralin is the true capital of Ireland edition

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youtube.com/watch?v=FywSzjRq0e4
youtube.com/watch?v=iLztE9RGw5k
en.wiktionary.org/wiki/pintman
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lar,_India
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lar,_Iran
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First for name the cat Mucker

Dubs to rename Mr Snuggles

wish I lived in a Church, that looks very comfy

Rolling for mucker

Go to Church of Ireland and be saved.

>Brit OP

Oh c'mon, it's Mr. Snuggles.

Come to the real /éire/

shall nae be posting in the tripfag edition

Re roll

Evening

I WON

threadly reminder that south dubliners are not irish

Othinus > Misaka

Not my fault you bumboys are too cowardly to liberate me.

STOLE MY FUCKING DUBS
REEEEEEE roll

Gerry in the back

First come first serve

Sorry m8

Will you just use an irish proxy or move across the border or something

The union jack is triggering me

Mucker?

mo chara I dink

The union jack is objectively good looking though.

>tfw exam on tuesday

youtube.com/watch?v=FywSzjRq0e4

You're too irrelevant to warrant liberation.

DO NOT call that cat Mr. Snuggles, your father will drown it
Call it mucker

Invading this thread now.

>96
Nah, you had no chance.

Normally I'd agree but
>brit op

>threadly reminder that dubliners are not irish
ftfy

Objectively false.

Objectively not false

>tfw dropped out last week
That reminds me, I really need to sort out those Argos and Gamestop job applications.

Don't remember asking for your (You) taebaehonest

>tfw no average irish gf

Why'd you drop out

There is no doubt that my friend Adolf had shown a gift for oratory from his earliest youth. And he
knew it. He liked to talk, and talked without pause. Sometimes when he soared too high in his
fantasies I couldn't help suspecting that all this was nothing but an exercise in oratory. Then
again I thought otherwise. Did I not take everything for gospel that he said? Sometimes Adolf
would try out his powers of oratory on me or on others. It always stuck in my memory how, when
not yet eighteen, he convinced my father that he should release me from his workshop and send
me to Vienna to the Conservatory. In view of the awkward and unforthcoming nature of my father
this was a considerable achievement. From the moment I had this proof of his talent -- for me so
decisive -- I considered that there was nothing that Hitler could not achieve by a convincing
speech.

He was in the habit of emphasizing his words by measured and studied gestures. Now and then,
when he was speaking on one of his favourite subjects, such as the bridge over the Danube, the
rebuilding of the Museum or even the subterranean railway station which he had planned for Linz,
I would interrupt him and ask him how he imagined he would ever carry out these projects -- we
were only poor devils. Then he would throw at me a strange and hostile glance as though he had
not understood my question at all. I never got an answer; at the most he would shut me up with a
wave of his hand. Later I got used to it and ceased to find it ridiculous that the sixteen- or
seventeen-year-old boy should develop gigantic projects and expound them to me down to the
last detail. If I had listened only to his words the whole thing would have appeared to be either
idle fantasy or sheer lunacy; but the eyes convinced me that he was in deadly earnest.

Accept defeat.

Take it nig(el).

It's awful.

Are you me?

I've an exam too.

Disgusting.

But I got doubles, I won fair and square.

You're awful

appreciate the Addy posting but could do without the trip so you could

Should I go to a shitty pub disco dress up thing tonight, awkwardly dance, stand on my own smoking and get no interest from any woman I tall to or stay in and play videogames?

Trips made /éire/ great user

Adolf set great store by good manners and correct behaviour. He observed with painstaking
punctiliousness the rules of social conduct, however little he thought of society itself. He always
emphasized the position of his father, who as a customs official ranked more or less with a
captain in the army. Hearing him speak of his father, one would never have imagined how
violently he disliked the idea of being a civil servant. Nevertheless, there was in his bearing
something very precise. He would never forget to send regards to my people, and every postcard
bore greetings to my "esteemed parents."

When we lodged together in Vienna, I discovered that every evening he would put his trousers
carefully under the mattress so that the next morning he could rejoice in a faultless crease. Adolf
realised the value of a good appearance, and, in spite of his lack of vanity, knew how to make the
best of himself. He made excellent use of his undoubted histrionic talents, which he cleverly
combined with his gift for oratory. I used to ask myself why Adolf, in spite of all these pronounced
capabilities, did not get on better in Vienna; only later did I realise that professional success was
not at all his ambition. People who knew him in Vienna could not understand the contradiction
between his well-groomed appearance, his educated speech and his self-assured bearing on the
one hand, and the starveling existence that he led on the other, and judged him either haughty or
pretentious. He was neither. He just didn't fit into any bourgeois order.

Resorting to ad hominem? Appears that I've won.

I need to assert my superior authority.

You already know the answer.

You should stay here with the rest of us, we're all wallowing in our misery.

Together!

*Grabs bottle of Miller*

Where do I get a girl this perfect?

Adolf had brought starvation to a fine art, though he ate very well when occasion offered. To be
sure, in Vienna he generally lacked the money for food. But even if he had it, he would prefer to
starve and spend it on a theatre seat. He had no comprehension of enjoyment of life as others
knew it. He did not smoke, he did not drink, and in Vienna, for instance, he lived for days on milk
and bread only.

With his contempt for everything pertaining to the body, sport, which was then coming into
fashion, meant nothing to him. I read somewhere of how audaciously the young Hitler had swum
across the Danube. I do not recollect anything of the sort; the most swimming we did was an
occasional dip in the Rodel stream. He showed some interest in the bicycle club, mainly because
they ran an ice rink in the winter. And this only because the girl he adored used to practice
skating there.

Magheralin

Too dumb for computer science.

Walking was the only exercise that really appealed to Adolf. He walked always and everywhere
and, even in my workshop and in my room, he would stride up and down. I recall him always on
the go. He could walk for hours without getting tired. We used to explore the surroundings of Linz
in all directions. His love of nature was pronounced, but in a very personal way. Unlike other
subjects, nature never attracted him as a matter for study; I hardly ever remember seeing him
with a book on the subject. Here was the limit of his thirst for knowledge. Details did not interest
him, but only nature as a whole. He referred to it as "in the open." This expression sounded as
familiar on his lips as the word "home." And, in fact, he did feel at home with nature. As early as
in the first years of our friendship I discovered his peculiar preference for nocturnal excursions, or
even for staying overnight in some unfamiliar district.

Being in the open had an extraordinary effect upon him. He was then quite a different person
from what he was in town. Certain sides of his character revealed themselves nowhere else. He
was never so collected and concentrated as when walking along the quiet paths in the beech
woods of the Mühlviertel, or at night when we took a quick walk on the Freinberg. To the rhythm
of his steps his thoughts would flow more smoothly and to better purpose than elsewhere. For a
long time I could not understand one peculiar contradiction in him. When the sun shone brightly in
the streets and a fresh, revivifying wind brought the smell of the woods into the town, an
irresistible force drove him out of the narrow, stuffy streets into the woods and fields. But hardly
had we reached the open country, than he would assure me that it would be impossible for him to
live in the country again. It would be terrible for him to have to live in a village. For all his love of
nature, he was always glad when we got back to the town.

What's so hard about CS?

As I grew to know him better, I also came to understand this apparent contradiction. He needed
the town, the variety and abundance of its impressions, experiences and events; he felt there that
he had his share in everything; that there was nothing in which his interest was not engaged. He
needed people with their contrasting interests, their ambitions, intentions, plans and desires. Only
in this problem-laden atmosphere did he feel at home. From this point of view the village was
altogether too simple, too insignificant, too unimportant, and did not provide enough scope for his
limitless need to take an interest in everything. Besides, for him, a town was interesting in itself as
an agglomeration of houses and buildings. It was understandable that he should want to live only
in a town.

On the other hand, he needed an effective counterweight to the town, which always troubled and
excited him and made constant demands on his interests and his talents. He found this in nature,
which even he could not try to change and improve because its eternal laws are beyond the
reach of the human will. Here he could once more find his own self, since here he was not
obliged, as he was in town, eternally to be taking sides.

Mate of mine

My friend had a special way of making nature serve him. He used to seek out a lonely spot
outside the town, which he would visit again and again. Every bush and every tree was familiar to
him. There was nothing to disturb his contemplative mood. Nature surrounded him like the walls
of a quiet, friendly room in which he could cultivate undisturbed his passionate plans and ideas.

For some time, on fine days, he used to frequent a bench on the Turmleitenweg where he
established a kind of openair study. There he would read his books, sketch and paint in water
colours. Here were born his first poems. Another spot, which later became a favourite, was even
more lonely and secluded. We would sit on a high, overhanging rock looking down on the
Danube. The sight of the gently flowing river always moved Adolf. How often did my friend tell me
of his plans up there! Sometimes he would be overcome by his feelings and give free reign to his
imagination. I remember him once describing to me so vividly Kriemhild's journey to the country
of the Huns that I imagined I could see the mighty ships of the kings of Burgundy drifting down
the river.

Have ye no muckers to go with lad?

where were you doing it? If you had the points you're hardly too dumb

maybe we're doing the same exam user

is she grieving?

Go out if you are in your early 20's or whatever, you will have plenty of time to stay at home when you are old

At the elementary school Hitler was always one of the best pupils. He was quick to learn and
made progress even without working very hard. His first teacher, Karl Mittermaier, gave him a report, "Full marks in every subject."
Mittermaier lived till 1938, when he was naturally asked to tell what he remembered of his former
pupil. Although he still remembered the pale and sickly boy, he had little to say about him. The
little Adolf had been very docile, his school things always in perfect order. For the rest there was
nothing outstanding about him, either good or bad. Incidentally, when Adolf Hitler was Chancellor
in 1939 he visited that school again and seated himself at the same desk at which he had learned
to read and write. As usual, he made good use of his visit and changed everything possible. He
personally bought the old school building and ordered the construction of a fine new school. The
teacher who had succeeded old Mittermaier was invited to Obersalzburg, together with her pupils.

But things altered when Adolf Hitler in September 1900 entered the technical school at Linz. He
himself writes about those years:

Only one thing was certain, my obvious failure at school. I learned what I liked -- in particular, all
that which I considered would be useful to me as a painter later. What I thought was unimportant
in this respect or what did not attract me, I neglected completely. My marks in this period show
extremes, varying according to the subject and my regard for it: there is "Praiseworthy" and
"Excellent" but also "Fair" and "Unsatisfactory". By far my best efforts were in geography and
even more in history, my favourite subjects, in which I was far ahead of the rest of the class.

Not him but computer courses are fairly low points wise.

I can't really explain it, obviously programming and code was the biggest problem overall.

But I can't say that I couldn't understand it, I could.

The thing was that your code has to be so fucking precise, if you get a single detail wrong, you get 0/10.

It's not like higher level maths, where you can write down maybe the first 2 parts of the question, and then maybe get 6-7/10 for the work put in.

Programming is punishing and difficult if you aren't specific, and that was my Achilles Heel.

whoa user pls stop, this is too accurate

>tfw county ruined by Americans naming their slaves after it

>mfw one of my brace wires came loose.

Based on your tone I'd say the vidya.

Itt?

Alri Tie-Row-n

>computer courses are fairly low points wise
since when? I started my degree two years ago and it was 470 at the time. I'm not even in UCD or Trinity

...

never met a nig named Tír Eoghain

I want a true nationalist party.

In the first place the eleven-year-old boy found it difficult to adapt himself to the new
surroundings. Every day he had to make the long journey from Leonding into the town to school.
He often told me that, nevertheless, this daily walk was one of the nicest things he could
remember of those years. At least this hour's journey to school assured him a bit of freedom,
which he appreciated all the more as until then he had always lived in the country. Everything in
town seemed strange and unfriendly to him. His classmates, mostly from rich homes, did not
accept as an equal the queer youngster who came daily to town "from the peasants." His
teachers' interest in him was confined to their classes. All this had been so different at the
elementary school, where the easygoing teacher knew all his pupils intimately and used to take
his regular drink with their fathers in the evening. At the elementary school the boy had been
accustomed to passing up each year without any special effort. At his new school, to start with,
he also tried improvisation at which he was a master. He had to do it all the more as he found
little pleasure in learning by heart, so much valued by his teachers. But here the trick did not
work. So he started to sulk and let things drift. Nobody took much notice of him in class; he had
no friends and did not want any. Sometimes some of his spoiled classmates would make him feel
that they did not accept as one of them this village boy -- a sufficient reason for him to withdraw
even more. It is significant that not one of his many schoolmates could claim any close
relationship or friendship with him.

>if you get a single detail wrong, you get 0/10
Sounds like your lecturers are dicks. You should get something if you had something right.

That county was ruined by being part of the n*rth far before that.

>implying any part of Dublin is Irish
the Pale needs to be reclaimed by the Gael

I think you're confusing the need to be precise with the need to understand the problem domain. If you shit out some code that works with the numbers 1-10 but doesn't work with 0 or -1 or 10000 then it's not just useful code.

Gon fuck off with your spam you tripped up cunt

>then it's just not useful code

fixed, sorry

>TFW Heading out for the first Time in Months
>TFW could finally get some puss since it's Halloween

north dublin is the strongest, most attractive accent on these isles

youtube.com/watch?v=iLztE9RGw5k

Good lad, what are ye dressing up as?

Tairn Loghain? Killed him m8.

>>mfw one of my brace wires came loose.
Same happened to me a while back. Got the dentist to stick it back on but now it's loose again.

In unis yeah. I know a lad in an IT that got his for around 300.

Silly me forgetting an image.

You're thinking of Derry lad :^)
Sauce on the image?

north dublin is a fucking shithole filled with unbearable cunts

>I know a lad in an IT
Dundalk?

>TFW could finally get some puss since it's Halloween
>desiring Irish women

...

I would gladly swap 2D for a 10/10 Russian gf.

your man's signature is at the bottom
only niggers can't read cursive :^)^)^)

that's why we have south-central dublin, de facto north but not as shit

who /Pintman/ here


en.wiktionary.org/wiki/pintman

just go to coppers and be done with it like the other genetically cucked losers user

I myself witnessed how Adolf tried to spare his mother during the last school year, and yet he
could not spare her because it was impossible to convince her that his future lay elsewhere.
Where, he did not yet know himself; and not for many years after his mother's death. So she took
this, her greatest worry, the future of her son, with her into the grave.

In those gloomy days of autumn, 1905, Adolf was on the razor's edge. Superficially, the decision
the sixteen-year-old had to take was whether to repeat the fourth form in the technical school at
Steyr, or leave school forever. But its meaning for him was graver: should he, for his mother's
sake, continue on a path which he knew was mistaken and hopeless for him; or should he ignore
the grief that he would cause his mother and choose the other way, of which he could only say
that it was the path towards art, a word which, one can understand, didn't offer much comfort to
his mother?

But in view of his nature this was not for Adolf really a decision in the true sense of the word; for
in reality there was no dilemma at all. He simply could not do otherwise and, leaving school, he
embarked on the second path without looking back. But he knew how upset his mother was by
this decision and this, I know, caused him immeasurable grief.

Níl.

Looking for reasons to dislike Yui and I can't find any

>TFW Went to Coppers one night for 40 minutes
>Didn't get anything
I'm not even ugly, desu

She's severely retarded.

>Níl.
Ari.

I'm just wondering since the only IT course I know with 300 points is DKIT.

If you've got the testosterone to pull it off you'll definitely get some

That seems just like the marking system's fault.
Unless you're forgetting "the formula", or if it's a project you do at home, not proof-reading it or even checking that it runs.

I think uni standards on functional jobs are too mechanical and unforgiving. They say we have "shortages*" in X, Y and Z, but then they do absolutely nothing to give Irish kids a leg-up in subjects where getting into the course and being able to keep through it is their problem, they just invite in foreigners qualified by the university of Timbuktu to do it.
They just treat university like a capitalist type of thing "you failed this kid? huh, nothin personnel, but you get nothing, go home", when the fact that so many people have to go to university at all is because the government funds it so much it's become what the leaving cert was ~25 years ago in terms of "social standing".

*A lot of these "shortages" are often just "shortages" from the perspective of the multinational companies that came here for tax purposes, the government's mismanagement of its own "industries", or the fall-out from preferencing women through the whole education system, and those "high-flying" women dropping out to be housewives or useless busybody secretaries.

Gonna chop it off desu. I have to make an appointment the dentists any time now anyway.

Funnily enough the character was supposed to be a "big guy" like Bane, so no embarrassment for being skinny like some ebin /fit/ post where a skeleton user talked about the reaction he got for going as Bane. (Seriously, his harness was wider than he was).

Always get lost with what to say to fit girls senpai, and what to do when on the dancefloor, since I can't dance for shite

Where is lar?

Did not read a word of this
Just wing it, it'll work at some point
The important thing is learning not to care what she thinks about what you say desu

Sounds like an utter bollocks.

Literally who?

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lar,_India

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lar,_Iran