Pork rind of the Web, not to remove but taste with relish…

Our Irish friends…

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After one year of common life with Irishmen, and in Ireland, I think of being able to pride me to know the latter rather well…
Like each one suspects it, the Irishmen are people like everyone, namely that they have their qualities AND their defects… Their country also besides…

photo credit: robohit
But one cannot categorize their various character traits or practices like qualities and/or defects. That is left with the appreciation of each one compared to its vision of the things, its education, its origins, etc Voilà several features which I will depict you, in a a little caricatural way certainly, but that is to give a little more punch to this small ticket.

- The Irishmen are the nicest people of the world. To make a metaphor that everyone will currently include/understand, they are a little the “Chtit' S” of Europe. The Irishmen will always try to render service, foreigner to you or not. Ask your road an Irishman, and it will walk some of the way certainly a bit of a walk with you so that you tell him “your history” (” What' S your story?” in the text). People having this opening to the others in France (since it is the country which I know best, hein… ; -)) do not amount per thousands, far from there, and it is damage.

- The Irishmen adoooooooorent France. In fact, as soon as they is French, that appears owl, cool, “in”, “flex to them”, finally you see what. The Irishmen will put 4 euros moreover in one wine bottle right because it is written in French above, whereas it is known very well, that on our premises, one can find nasty wine which makes well stomach ache with writing all in French above: “Mixture of 11 European wines”. And good, the wine is only a example, you can extend that to the vétements, the cosmetics, food in general, cheeses more especially, the cars, with the boys (And yes, there is still this old reputation of “excellent lover”…) and finally the accent… Because yes, our accent is legendary. We one finds it immonde, ugly, English Profs tear off the hair to be made to us pronounce “this” into blowing on a sheet, the H aspired of “Hello” by putting a handkerchief in front of its mouth or I do not know which easy ways… But like good schoolboys, one of fout and one do not want to have shame in front of the pals and one balances of the “Hélo, mesh naïïme isse Pierre. Vââââte taillme isse ite, plizzz?”. And well here, arise the same sentence, with the same accent, and you made all melt them…

- The Irishmen take part in a permanent contest of “I speak more extremely than the neighbor”, me I call that the championship of the world of discretion. Often, there are even tests by teams in the pubs, and they manage to cover the music! And go ahead that I raise my glass whereas I do not hold upright, the type of behind is caught a shower with the guinness… And go ahead that one sings a bawdy song whereas the DJ passes a slow fox trot… That is valid primarily for the men.
But the Irish take part in two other permanent contests. First is same discipline, discretion. It is about “I jacasse more extremely than my girlfriend”. This contest, to which one assists as soon as the Irishwoman pouponne (one will come there) is a symphony, cacophony of “ahhhhhh, soooo cute!!! ”, “Lovellllllyyyyy, definitly lovely!!!! ”, “Myyyy god!!!!” or finally “Jesuuuuuuus” (yes, in English, to say “good blood” or a trick like that, one says “Jesus”. To make more extremely, one can also say “Jesus Christ” but there it is bad kind…). The drives with this contest are closed with the male public, since place in the toilets of the women has, but to listen to my French compatriots here low, the tympanums take one of them crowned blow and better is worth to avoid the experiment. (Mr Quies invented and tested its famous balls in the toilets of the women of the Irish pubs.) The second contest is the contest of “I manage to put more blush that you on my face”… Because yes, one is in the Ireland, one of the countries to strongest pluviometries in the world, all the girls have the same dye as if they returned from St Barth, and everyone finds that normal…

- The Irishmen are very open and communicative. Impossible to pass one evening only (E) in an Irish pub! (because yes, in Ireland, you are neither one bet, nor a soak if you only point yourselves (E) in a pub…). You will say to me that alcohol helps, but it is not only that. The pub is really the popular meeting place. Contrary to much of places in France, one does not look at you oddly when you want approach somebody. (it is which this without-friend? Oh, not! Still heavy which wants to dredge me!). To go to taste a beer only is not either sign of alcoholism, where all residents' associations are already on your back in our soft France… In light, the Irishmen are not imbus of their person contrary in other European countries.

- Ireland, it is the country (the island) sheep, of Connemara, and especially of the RAIN! The Irishmen live with since they were born, and they hold a certain pride of it. It is a little like cheese on our premises what, it is crowned. But the rain ended up their liquifying their direction of objectivity compared to the weather… When it rains, time is “OK” even “bad” when one arrives at the stage storm of hail. When it does not rain, “The weather is nice”. Eh, oh, are necessary to stop the fumette there Irish! There are large clouds full the sky, one has not seen the sun for 3 weeks, and the weather is “nice”??? Last year, the weather was nice one week. Serious, there was a superb quite hot sun, not a cloud during A WHOLE week (the French of Galway will have evil to believe me), result, one had beautiful a 25-26°C outside. Treat, not? And well, I found my joint tenants lengthened in the settee, TV extinct (it is there that one realizes of the gravity of the situation to Ireland… I would return there) saying to me: “the weather is too hot, one can about it more, one will rent a ventilator…”.

- The Irishmen are crades. If an Irishman reads that, it will say that I am badly placed to speak… Because, it should be known that on the other side of the channel, French has the reputation to be especially negligent, and to feel garlic. And well, my Irish friends, you made not better! I would not return in the details to keep my assistantship - so many until the end of this page, but to summarize (all that follows is not resulting solely from my experiment, but also from testimonys collected Ci and there from people not Irish):

• The brush with john, that is used for something, especially the shortly after festival!
• The hair, the hairs, that does not push in the bath-tubs or showers, then they are removed.
• Toilet paper, that is repurchased.
• One does not spit in the street and in the public places, it is ugly and contemptible.
• One rote not in public either (even in the pubs, where the drinks and the ambient noise could justifer no matter what that is)
• One does not smoke in the toilets.
• One disencumbers his table with Mc C, Super Macs, Quick or another fast-food, it is least courtesy, people are not there to disencumber your cochonneries.
• To put cloves of garlic in the nose does not look after of anything the cold. (veracious!!! Pauline can attest some!)
• To live with the same pyjamas all the week at home is not most hygienic of the lives.

- The Irishmen are sportsmen. With all that they thread with the pub, fortunately you will say to me. But the Irishmen are sportsmen AND courageous. They make jogging under a beating rain. The drives of Rugby take place even under the rain and in the cold. They have truly a whole a panoply of sportsman at the house, and they have all my respect for that, because I do not even have a jogging or even still of the tennis shoes of sport… Yes, I am large pretending concerning the sport… Good, I go to the job to bicycle (for budgetary and nonsporting reasons or convictions…), therefore I eliminate also my beers with my way… But they, they move all the time! They belong to sports associations, are given thoroughly and that, that impresses me! The most brilliant trick, it is the sport of the girls: walk… They put the bandanas sponges some, the tennis shoes, the cyclist who moulds the buttocks (or the bourlets, with the choice), a girlfriend for papoter (or a ipod for the without-friends) and have the ridiculous air!!!! But they make sport…

- The Irishmen are extravagant. Perhaps this is due to the fact that their economy literally exploded in 20 years (surely besides). And yes you will not see Twingo (not rather expensive my son) in Ireland, not of car registered before 95 (too much old my son), but you will see many large trucks (I did not think that Toyota and Lexus sold as many motors!!!), and enormously large 4×4 (of the times, one would be believed in Paris XVIe. I even saw of Bentley and Rolls Royce in Galway!). The Irishmen have a pay approximately higher of 20% than a French pay with equivalent qualification. The taxes less important than in France and are retained with the source. Thus when an Irishman has his pay, it knows that it is VERY for him and it is burst then. In France, one gives us money for us here grapiller 12%, 23% there a few months afterwards, then one spends nothing, by thinking that one will have to return it beintôt all this money! Then yes, our report/ratio with the money is different. We save it fear not of having kept enough of it, and the Irishmen spend it without concern.

- The Irishmen are tears on TV. I think that it was about the last piece of furniture on which the Irish ushers throw their reserved… And due, all life of a literally ploughed up Irishman without television! My collocs even needs some when they are not there… (if, if, the tele remainder lit whereas nobody is in the house, if the type of the weather wants papoter with your kettle…). Television is a person with whole share and it needs its subscription with the satellite cable/if not nothing goes any more! Their emissions are overall those of Anglo-Saxon television, where all is based on the concept of tele reality. Send 1 if you want that Maurice belongs to the Jury. Send 2 if you think that Christelle will eliminate Brandon because it offered to him a pink shirt maker for his birthday… Insane Pfff, but frankly, what one of!? The worst, it is that they are appropriate of it that it is null, that they learn anything by looking at this limps with image, but they continue… But in short, each one its tare… Me, I could spend the hours derrières my computer… And often, it is same level as Brandon and Christelle…

- The Irishmen are false ecologists. The color of Ireland, it has been the green the color of the Irish government for 15 years, it is green recycling in Ireland, it has been in place for 10 years, and it completely returned in manners (Attention, here, one pays with the quantity of refuse whom one generates!). But with the explosion of the economy, the things quickly exceeded the ecological dogma that the country tried to follow… People became rich, then they initially bought big cars which pollute (a BMW X5 much with which the Mayor “ecologist” of Galway swindles pollutes 3 times more than one new FIAT 500 and yet they have the same finality: to transport people). Then, they gained in comfort, electric heating, air-conditioning, a TV, two TVS, three TVS… Then, friendly French ecologists, filled with hope for a healthier planet, there is job by here… Almost the whole of the shops of Galway have at the same time, the heating AND air-conditioning. It was rare to find my enlightened large house, two lit televisions, heating at bottom, with nobody inside… My collocs had left in Weekend. (and sadly, I do not exaggerate…). There is as a species of tradition in Ireland, one leaves the light of outside lit to mean as there is somebody inside. But as one should not then show when the house is empty, this foutue light is lit all the night on 75% of the houses… (during an insomnia, I calculated that on a basis of a bulb of 60W, on the only town of Galway, 25.000 euros left in useless lighting each night.).

- The Irishmen are noisy, that I said it, but they can be also keep silent, and can respect silence. It is rather impressive besides. When you attend “sessions” (several musicians amateurs find themselves in a pub, without inevitably knowing and play a common repertory in concert. They is very sympathetic and alive), it may be that a musician wishes to only sing. It types then its pint 2 or 3 times on its table and instantaneously, the pub absolutely armor-plated people become quiet religieusement and the musician begins his song then. Nobody dares speech before the song is finished. Such a respect for the musician, for his music, its effort, is really pleasant and is a great quality which I assess among Irishmen. You do not amuse to type your pint too strong during a session, people will await you the turning to push the ditty…

- The Irishmen are really reconciling people. It there forever of concern, all is taken with the light one. Still last week, I brought my rent with 16 days of delay. In France, I would have been badgered on the telephone, I would have perhaps even received a letter of my landlord. There, I was received perfectly, with the smile, one has to even ask to me whether I wanted the. There was no problem, what counted was that I would be there to pay it! Here is the good side in this light way to manage, “businesses”. Now, on a professional side, it is a horror… And it is one of the reasons which pushes us to move our company apart from Ireland. The roof of our office flew away on December 26. It rained in the office during 12 days, then on January 7, the owner finally answered our message and sent workmen to us to give a roof. Brilliant! But the building site which was to last 5 days, of January 7 thus, finished on February 16 because we said that we were going to finish the fitted carpet and painting alone, if not, one would be there still in April… Precisely, us here in April, and the very new roof, flees already…

- But good, this still results from my exclusively personal experiment… Then a more general example, and which will be certainly more convincing for the ones like the others. Ireland is a fabulously rich country. Primarily thanks to Europe and with overseas investments attracted by a light taxation. How a also rich country, as advanced as that can have roads in such a catastrophic state? The main road which connects Dublin to Galway, and which thus crosses the country right through is one two ways (for each direction) on its major part… It is however a very attended road, by heavy lorries, coaches and motorists… The only motorway which exists in Ireland is M1 on 50Km at the exit of Dublin. I want well that all is not done day at the following day, but in 20 years, they had time to see it coming this need stiff with practicable road!!! And the little of road which they can améilorer for the installation of a drain or a cable, it is made with the way in which one repairs our secondary roads (too much gravel, not enough of tar, not levelled, etc). And one finds with a road out of basin on a side, embossed other and seen that it rains, that fills and each car takes to care of aroser each pedestrian who walks to side (often Poussine or me in the role of the pedestrian). Then the Irishman invented Ryanair, not to use the roads…

- The Irishmen pouponnent themselves. The pub is a religion here. Each religion has its laughed. The religion of the pub imposes a walking-out dress for each escapade night bird. The men leave a Jean and a shirt and hop, it is folded. Where that becomes interesting, they is the young girls… It is necessary to thus show a maximum of skin… in hiding a minimum… Miniskirt, mini-signal, mini-docker, minidress, mini-bag (if, if, that where you return just a telephone and blush…). But that is of setting with the maximum-make-up. Because the skin that you want to show must be bronzed and virgin of imperfections… Therefore, one summarizes. In the pubs, you mainly cross girls with a miniskirt, a low neckline ready to explode, an orange head fluo so much it is powdered, a mini-bag (with the pink telephone fluo, and limps it of blush… vacuum since it is on the face if you followed…) and 3 equipped girlfriends at similar side. Frankly, whether one likes or not the Irish style (which borrows much from the English and Scottish popular style), it is really not unpleasant to see all these neat people a minimum… Because during the week, it is pyjamas party, in the street, with the FAC, the supermarket, the house… Everyone is in pyjamas all the time!!!!

Here, it is finished. For those which find that I am difficult, it is doubtless true. For those which agree, you must as be shitting as me. For those which find that I am a grouser, you have twists because despite everything that, I have fun much in Ireland, and I will not exchange my time here for nothing in the world.

Ireland is worth really the glance, the Irishmen (and Irish) even more!

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Posted on Thursday April 17, 2008 with 23:21 in the Galway category, Mood. You can follow all the comments of this ticket via flow RSS 2.0. You can poster a comment, or a trackback from your own site.