People from the midlands of Ireland have their own quaint way of conversing.
Phrases that may appear aggressive to the outsider are in fact just local
witticisms and colloquialisms.
A local affray might be sparked off by a man asking his neighbour:
"Whot'er you lukin ah?", to which a typical retort might be:
"Ya big suckie calf. I'll puh ya up agin de wall an box de head
off ya. De curse a ten tousand tinkers on ya"
An account of the resulting disturbance might go as follows:
"He kicked him so hard up d'arse his lacers cem out yer mans mout
and the both of them had to go to Hostiple."
Doubtless those involved wouldn't take long to make up afterwards, and
they would, in all likelihood repair to the corner shop for soft drinks
and potato snacks. In requesting these from the shopkeeper, they might
"Tin o' minerdel an' a packa' o' Tay'O. I'm soo hungry I'd ate the
arse of a farmer tru a tennis racket"
One portion of potato crisps may well be insufficient to satisfy the
hunger brought on by the exchange of blows, in which case, the assailants
may well say: "Give us a nuther Tay'O."
It would be wise not to over indulge in these foodstuffs, as a bout of
indigestion or even nausea might result.
"Jesas, I'm as sick as a lorry load a mars bars," our off-colour
friend might comment.
Hostilities over, the neighbours would return to one dwelling or another,
where the host would say to the guest,
"Like the fella says, pu da turf on da fire."
The reconciled friends may well begin to converse about some of their
"Is he your cousind?" one might ask of the other, the answer
to which, in the midlands of Ireland is invariably: