Following yesterday’s Little Book of Beards giveaway.
Geradline Feehily at The O’Brien Press, writes
You Know You’re Irish When by Séamus Ó’Conaill celebrates everything that’s weird, wonderful and just plain daft about being Irish/. Like the fear of the immersion, being eyed suspiciously when off the drink, the Centra baguette, a fondness for quoting from father Ted or the need for clarification between ‘going out’ and ‘going out-out’.
We have FIVE copies of You Know You’re Irish When to literally give away. It’s a perfect stocking fillerTo enter, just complete this sentence.
‘I tend to know I’m Irish when______________________’
Liners MUST close at 5.45pm
You Know You’re Irish When (O’Brien)
Yesterday: If You’re Not Chin You Can’t Win







I tend to know I’m Irish when clasping my hands behind me back after havin’ pulled hard on the bailin’ twine holdin’ me trousers up!
* kicks old cast iron bath in the lower back field with new wellies from the 2015 Ploughing Championship *
i’m fuming over something the Iona Institute said.
I know Im Irish when my mother rings me to tell me “You’ll never guess who died”…
These books are ten a penny….this is like a collection of crap nostalgia articles from thejournal.ie archves…..
http://www.thejournal.ie/only-in-ireland/news/
Lookit, I tend to know I’m Irish when I start most of my sentences with the word lookit.
I tend to know I’m Irish when I’m so obsessed about bigging up my national identity that I come off as gawky and insecure to anyone outside the country.
I tend to know I’m Irish when I awake with the sort of gurgling cough that only 20 Major can provide.
I know I’m Irish because I was born here.
I tend to know I’m Irish when I celebrate like a mad whore everytime the Irish chess/synchronized swimming/lacrosse etc team beat England
I tend to know I’m Irish when I’m abroad and people say
“Oh, wow, I’ve never been there but I’ve always wanted to go”.
I tend to know I’m Irish when I blatantly ignore celebs on the street & then tweet & text like mad how I just saw but ignored!
I tend to know I’m Irish when I have 2 slices of buttered bread and I look for a bag of Tayto for a chrisp sandwich
I tend to know I’m Irish when saying “turty tree and a turd” in an English nightclub gets me the roide. *
* has never actually happened.
I tend to know I’m Irish when I’m trying to get a slug into a slot machine at 5am.
Euphemism?
And can I steal it?
I tend to I’m Irish when I can’t have an abortion.
Hate to break it to you Stephen…
I know I’m irish when the daily edge point out 17 reasons why I know I’m irish
I tend to know I’m irish when I’m subjected to this stereotypical nonsense on a daily basis
I tend to know I am Irish when I read Mercille BS on a Monday.
“out-out” like in Mickey Flanagan the cockney comedian’s very famous comedy show?
I tend to know I’m Irish cause I’m on Broadsheet.ie.
I tend to know I’m Irish when I wander foreign lands softly apologizing, under my breath, almost at a whisper, to everybody and everything.
very good
I tend to know I’m Irish when I’m only allowed to have two bars of the Super-Ser turned on. Never three. Never. Ever.
Ah here.
SuperSers don’t have bars
Tis the electric bar heaters that emptied many a meter
SuperSers were the bottle ah’gas job (ye call them cylinders now, like Centra for the corner shop)
1click 2click or 3click options
1click was when you could lift the bottle and swing it and rustle up a few fumes to get another night out’ve it
I tend to know I’m Irish when blandness, rehashed ideas and crappy books are applauded as being something news worthy.
I know I’m Irish but sometimes I’m Oirish like
I know I’m Irish because I think ethnic minorities should stop complaining about racism but I find comedies about the famine which haven’t been written yet to be highly offensive.
I tend to know I’m Irish when I feel compelled to point out that the contents of this book sound like the most hackneyed load of heard-a-millions-times -before anti-humour.
+100000000000000000000
We have a winner!
n’stuff that didn’t exist or never heard ah” 20 years ago…
You tend to know you’re Irish when you have to fupp off abroad.
I know I’m irish when I say “next Wednesday” but mean the Wed after this one!
I know I’m irish when I say ” I will the” but mean I won’t!
F u autocorrect! Foiled again.
I tend to know I’m Irish when I think is the kind of book I wouldn’t force on my worst enemy but Ray D’arcy”ll be recommending as a ‘stocking filler’ some day soon.
I tend to know I’m Irish when I take a piece of old kitchen roll from up my sleeve, spit on it, and clean the child’s face.
I tend to know I’m Irish when you raise an eyebrow when a TV chef mentions ‘ghee’.
Micky Flanagan will enjoy reading the bit about the difference between going out and out-out .
I tend to know I’m Irish when I check my nationality on my passport.
I tend to know I’m Irish when I live in England but refuse to use the word ‘trousers.’ Every pants compliment just sounds like sexual harrassment.
I tend to know I’m Irish when I sit in disgust at a Ryanair departure lounge.
I tend to know I’m Irish when I tell my husband (only to annoy him) that it’s a press, not a cupboard. And yes, it’s a hot press, not an airing cupboard.
I tend ta’ know I’m Irish, (and more importantly from Cork*,) when I laugh at England getting bate, n’ cheer on the other side. No matter what the code. Even archery.
Go HaHa when I see George Osborne and Boris.
Like to remind the public that Peers Morgan is a paddy.
Know the exact correct application of ara yerra and era, even down to the parish
And of course there’s the
I’m grand
Good craic alright
Not ta’bad now
Ah sur ‘ can’t complain
Keeping her lit
Pullin’ the divil by the tale
Great form … Whatever yere having yerselves
Answers to one or a hundred other different ceisteanna
** that’s how ya know I’m a Paddy
I tend to know I’m Irish when people say ‘Is that a faint twang I detect in you accent?’ in London and ‘You never lost your accent!’ when I’m in Dublin
Oops, that wasn’t supposed to go there….the comment about Thatcher also being Irish was supposed to go there…
You’re not Irish. You left out “How’s she cuttin’?” / “She’s trimmin’ well.”
KK and An Mí terns
Ûck ’em
I tend to know I’m Irish when I get excited by Jean Byrne.
I’d go see someone about that..
I tend to know im Irish when my colleages here tell me to SLOW DOWN and STOP SAYING CHEERS everytime I drink!
I know I’m Irish when I say thank you to the bus driver in The Hague (having looked up the Dutch term) and everyone stares.
I know I’m irish when everything around me is shite
I tend to know I’m Irish when I don’t need my passport to get back into the country, just a big ‘Howaya’ at the Templemore escapee in the hut..
When yet another person designs a series of sentimental Irish naval-gazing lazy ass designed obvious cliches.
I am so sick of these things. The only good ones are Clover Rua which demonstrate true talent and an actual idea. The rest are band wagon jumpers.
Craft go leor.
You know you’re Irish when yet another tedious gobpoo comes up with some ” you know you’re Irish” racket
“a fondness for quoting from father Ted or the need for clarification between ‘going out’ and ‘going out-out’.”
Christ. How about one about being so bloody parochial and repetitive.
Is that a rhetorical question?
Because that’s a universal really.
For me it’s having a turf fire, smokey whiskey and music at 6am (After you’re done playing cards)
http://www.peatsociety.org/peatlands-and-peat/global-peat-resources-country
BTW
Its Hang
Not Ham
Here’s another one for you.
You know you’re Irish…
when you keep voting the same shower of corrupt criminal politicians into power every five years and not learning your lessons from it.
when you think Fianna Fail and Fine Gael are real opposition politics.
Italy has the eighth largest economy in the world (nominal GDP)
(They also had workers die in cardboard accommodation.)
http://files.transparency.org/content/download/1885/12550/file/CPI2014_Region_EuropeanUnionWesternEurope_EN.pdf
“Mani Pulite” as they say.
You know you’re Irish when you love and also hate the place in the same millisecond