Top of the F***ing Morning

[mad_leprechaun]

Ok you bastards: Mad Sweeney is here, as large as life. You just can't keep a good god down, can you? Because that's what I was, you know, before the monks and the churches with their grey books decided that the gods of Ireland had to be made into fucken midgets with funny green hats. Here I am though, a hard-hitting, heavy-drinking, mad-as-a-

Comments

[roadkill_god]

*flies in and transforms*

*stares at Mad Sweeny*

It's you! *tilts his head and studies Sweeny* You were dead.

Mun: OMGOMGOMGOMG!! EEEEEE Yay! *glomp* Love you and love him and love his icon. <3!

[mad_leprechaun]

Yeah, and you were crazier than a marble matchstick. Some things never change. *grins* I was dead as the dead can be, but apparently it takes more than fucken eternal oblivion to shut Mad Sweeney up. Maybe dog-man would understand, but that's not for the likes of me.

*looks around* So this big-shit storm... It's over, right? I mean, I did my bit and now I'm done, yeah? *laughs nervously* It was just the wrong fucken coin, you know man? The wrong fucken coin...

Typist: The icon is from a Dropkick Murphys poster and might I add YAY! Horus the bugfuck crazy god! Awesome!

[roadkill_god]

*thinks about that for a minute* Anubis is not here.

...Yes, it's over. The man on the tree won. *tilts his head the other way* Loki is here...but not that Loki. Other Loki. He is nice. Not trying to start wars.

Mun: Actually, he's only bugfuck northnorthwest...when the wind is southerly....*ahem* Anyway, he actually has sane spells now and again, usually when Kaos ticks him off. *shrugs* He's got a bit of a multiple personality thing going at the moment.

[godsayshi]

Typist: SQUEE. *fangrills liek whoa* Oh, and I apologize for him. *points down* He's taken it upon himself to save the world.

*blinks* That's bad for you, you know. Overconsumption of alcohol, I mean. And why are you so angry? Violence really isn't the solution, trust me.

[mad_leprechaun]

You know what else is bad for me? Dumb shits like you fucken whining at me all the fucken time. So how about you show me your solution and I'll show you mine, hey mack? *raises fists and grins*

Typist: My apologies as well. He's just a bit of a bastard. ;)

[jareth]

Hmm. Welcome.

I'm currently a resident in Ireland. Wonderful country.

[mad_leprechaun]

That's what they tell me, but I wouldn't fucken know anymore. I've been here so damn long. Makes a man thirsty for a taste of home... Such as a bottle of Jameson Gold, (which, might I add, can be damn hard to find on this side of the pond). Am I right? *raises eyebrow*

[sly_dolohov]

*winces* My typist is squealing loudly and bouncing up and down and is generally annoying the piss out of me.

I think she likes you and wants to bear your children or something.

[mad_leprechaun]

Man, I fucken hate that. *shakes head* Tell her I'm not the fatherly type (but feel free to tell her I'm the fornicating type *wicked grin*).

[sly_dolohov]

The fornicating was what she had in mind. Apparently she has a thing for Irish lads.

[_as_you_wish]

Um. Er. Hello, good sir. While I believe that we will have absolutely nothing in common, I say welcome to you anyway.

Typist: OMG YOU SO ROCK!

[mad_leprechaun]

And you know, nothing says 'welcome' like whiskey...

[_as_you_wish]

I'll see what I can dig up, but I'm afraid that as an extremely cultured man who enjoys the finer things in life, I may only have some excellent aged wines.

With iocane powder in them.

Typist: No, Westley, no!