A Brief Overview of the Irish State of Affairs Upon the 9th-Century Norse Intervention for Bostonians

So the thing ‘bout the Irish back in the eahrly 800s was, they liked tah fuckin’ drink.

I mean back then poohr ole Johnny Jameson could bahrely even keep up with the local demand fah r’his product, not tah mention the global demand, since he hadn’t even gone n’ modahnized his fuckin’ equipment yet. Soon as a new batch’ah whiskey was ready, it flew off the shelves fastah r‘en a Rogah Clemens fastball n’ the whole situation ovah r’at the brewehry on St. James’ Gate wasn’t much bettah r’eithah. Evuhyrone was basically just flat out hammah’d all the fuckin’ time.

Which is nothin’ new, but the point I’m tryin’ tah get at is, when yah got this many drunk Celtics roamin’ ‘round the entiyah fuckin’ countryside, there’s bound tah be some fuckin’ fights. N’ there were a lot of ‘em too. That’s the thing people don’t realize. Ireland wasn’t just some sohrt’ah quaint, chahmin’ little country where evuhryone just chilled out next tah the pot’ah gold at the end’ah the rainbow, fahmin’ their fuckin’ potatoes in peace n’ quiet n’ relaxin’ in the evenings with some fuckin’ Rivahdance music ah whatevah.

Nah, Ireland was comprised’ah multiple kingdoms back then — some kindah big n’ some real fuckin’ small — n’ all anyone evah really caih’rd ‘bout besides gettin’ drunk was tryin’ tah steal each othah’s cattle ‘cause cattle were a big fuckin’ deal back then. I mean if you were Irish in the yee’ah 800, then yah pretty much expehrienced life entiyahly vicahriously through your cattle — sohrtah like how people do nowadays with cell phones, only without all the bullshit.

Which, yah know, is semantic’ly ironic since bulls fuckin’ shit a lot. But all that bull shit back then actually sehrved a prahductive puhrpose, like fah fehrtilizin’ the medieval Irish crops ah whatevah whereas tahday’s bullshit is just pointless n’ frustratin’ like when you’re down in the T waitin’ fah yah fuckin’ fingah’ah the green line to come so you’re just standin’ there watchin’ 6 fuckin’ trains go by befohr yours finally ahhrives n’ ah’couhrse it’s jam-packed with a hundred thousand sweaty individuals ’cause the AC’s broken on this piece’ah shit n’ now yah got someone’s elbow in your fuckin’ face n’ you’re holdin’ on fah dee’ah life as the train practic’ly flies off the rails at evuhry goddamned twist n’ turhn on the fuckin’ line just tah get tah the next station n’ all yah really wannah do is just go home n’ have a fuckin’ bee’ah since there’s no prahduction shohrtage these days n’ you’ve stocked your fridge out fuckin’ wahzoo with Smitick’s.

N’ no one’s blamin’ yah fah havin’ all those Smitick’s eithah ‘cause they’ll help yah tah fahget your student loans which have got yah by the fuckin’ balls, which is our moduhn day equivalent’ah the medieval Irish cattle loan — which is when you’re basic’ly completely fucked fah life but what else can yah do since the job mahket completely ahtificially n’ ahbitrahrily demands it? But that bein’ the case that it is, it’s no fuckin’ wondah that all these Irish guys from places like Ulstah, Meath, Connaught, Leinstah, n’ Munstah were all tryin’ tah take on each othah r’all at once tah get each othah’s cattle, n’ eventually be the one true high king’ah all’ah Ireland with the most cattle.

N’ all the while this is happenin’, the guys up in Nahway ahr watchin’ this, goin’, “Shit, those Irish ahr so busy gettin’ sloppy drunk n’ beatin’ the livin’ shit outtah each othah fah r’each othah’s cattle, I bet we could make a killin’ if we just sailed our blond Nohrdic asses down there n’ stahted sackin’ the shit outtah the place. They woudn’t even know what hit ‘em.”

N’ so that’s exactly what they stahted doin’, but not in huge numbahs, at fihrst, yah know? I mean, in the fihrst 40 yee’ahs’ah ah so’ah Viking hostilities, they only attacked Ireland like 26 times, whereas by compahrision, the Irish attacked Ireland 87 times in the same fuckin’ time pehriod! N’ things continued tah prahgress in this mannah till eventually ‘round ‘bout 837 when this Nahwegian guy Torgeis was finally like, “Okay, I’ve fuckin’ had it with the fuckin’ commute, so now I’m gonnah go n’ found Dublin. It might not have Flahrida’s beaches but at least we’ll get in that famous book’ah wohrld recahds fah r’establishin’ the place.”

So he went n’ he founded Dublin n’ Ireland got its fihrst real city, which was Nahwegian, which is kindah fucked up.