– I fell out with the neighbour behind me.
– What’d ye do on him this time?
– Did nothing. Just a bit of slagging.
– Slagging me hole. What’d ye say?
– I called him a cunt.
– Here. Ye can’t be calling the English cunt a cunt.

– Not my fault he doesn’t understand slagging.
– Aye. Because he’s English.
– Look’it, there was a few ov’ us talking after the storm about having no power an’ the kids going cold turkey without WIFI an’ he says, out of the blue, “I never lost electricity. I hooked up the generator from work.” And I says to him, as ye would like, “Fuck ye Tom, ye said nothing about that when it mattered, ye sneaky aul cunt ye.”
– Yer no diplomat anna’way.
– Here. If I’d a’ called him ‘two ends of cunt’ or a ‘proper cunt’ it’d be different.
– G’wan.
– So Tom’s getting all offended and then I says to him. “And if ye’d a thrown auld Lilly a few hot water bottles she mightn’t be lying up in Cavan Hospital dying a’ pneumonia”. She’s 94 ye know? God love her.
– Fuck. Is Lilly dying?
– Na. She’s away with the niece to Gran Canaria.