Carlow = Mad for sugar beet, can’t get enough of it. Hobbies: Growing sugar beet.

Cavan = filthy, ignorant hillbillies, tight. Hobbies: discovering IRA ammo dumps and knitting black balaclavas.

Clare = fiddle-playing charming people and, more recently, fine footballers. Hobbies: Falling into pot-holes and being never heard from ever again, setting up golf courses in their back lawns.

Cork = the loveable rogues of Ireland. Here for everyone else’s entertainment. Hobbies: Milking cows, being European capital of culture but not knowing what exactly that means or how they got it boy?

Donegal = away in their own world up there, not much known about this eccentric type. Hobbies: Stripping the Irish coast of fishies, running back up to their corner of the island and blaming the spanish….aye twas the spanish!!

Dublin North = criminals, drug dealers and factory workers, dirty women, skinheads and all-round examples of human waste. Hobbies: Heroin and watching serial numbers being filed off stolen BMW's, joy-riding anything from a lexus to a washing machine.
Dublin South = west Brits, snobs, rich, easy glamorous women. Hobbies: talking shite and sleeping with their best friend's spouse or mother.

Galway = sophisticated culchies, sexually adventurous, cultured and wealthy. Hobbies: Teaching sex acrobatics to foreign tourists, dropping acid, juggling with fire on the streets, paying a million pounds for a three bedroom suburban house and pretending it was a bargain.

Kerry = God’s kingdom on earth, no doubt about it. Some of the best land in Ireland but they don’t tell anyone this. Hobbies: Football, swimming with dolphins, football, seeing how many foreigners they can score each year, football, hosting a massive festival every week, football, going to the south pole and football.

Kildare = is anyone really from Kildare or are they all just from Dublin? Hobbies: Denying they have anything to do with Dublin. Spending best part of 4 hours each day travelling to and from Dublin. Using Daz for whiter than white jerseys on a summer’s day.

Kilkenny = red haired alcoholics who refuse to believe not all land in Ireland is capable of growing barley and wheat “not a bother”. Hobbies = driving massive combines, hosting comedy festivals and having red-haired babies.

Laois = harmless aul bunch of lads, hope to have the whole county by-passed at some stage by 2025 so they can get on with their own business. Hobbies: Living an honest life, collecting EU development grants, getting the piss taken out of them for being the queen’s county…haha ye plantation bastards!

Leitrim = enigmatic reclusive weirdos. Hobbies: learning about traffic lights and roundabouts in school (night school for adults that is)

Limerick = grand place, great sports people, city has bad reputation through no fault of its own. Hobbies: stabbing people, gang-land murders, drug hauls, graffiti spraying, joy-riding….

Longford = Gombeen men. Hobbies: Legalising bestiality.

Louth = IRA supporters, smugglers and bandits. Hobbies: Tearing through Cooley at 125MPH trying to stop the boxes of cheap vodka from falling out the window.

Mayo = Depressing, defeatist, negative, misery-laden losers, emigrate as soon as the umbilical cord is cut. Hobbies: roaring about how great they are, whinging about why nobody likes them.

Meath = either Dublin wannabes or mad country bucks. Hobbies: Beating Dublin at GAA and hoping that one day somebody in Dublin will actually notice, driving massive john deere’s cos they’re big, green and yellow too.

Offaly = Bog. Hobbies = exploiting bogs and later making them into tourist attractions…hats off!

Roscommon = flat county, a silage pit is a mountain. Hobbies: Sheep-stealing.

Sligo = either in their 20s and a surfer or in their 80s and a granny, no in-betweens. Hobbies: Surfing and knitting wet-suits for their grand children.

Tipperary = promiscuous girls, Tipp does not have tw

:::::::::::::;; This was wrote by darren clarke:::::::::::::::::::::;



So it all started in the Fiddlers Nite Club Carrickmacross, Friday the 23rd of June. Dave Marron, Pauric Duffy, Neil McArdle and myself were flying out early Saturday morning so Dave had the bright idea of getting pissed and staying up all night before we set sail. And so we did. We went to the nite club then back to a friends house to get some bread, cheese and to party right through the night. When no cheese was to be found the party was over so eventually we hit the bed for an hour before we had to leave. For those of you who don't know Pauric Duffy, put it this way, he is a very cranky/violent/disturbed man. Dave and I fought with him for over an hour to get him out of bed. Anywho, Neils father took us up to the airport (which was nice of him) and we unloaded our gear and went for some breakfast. Being hung over as we were, breakfast was a disaster with cold toast falling into cereal and rubber bacon everywhere.
On the flight we had a transvestite airhostess & someone who was allergic to peanuts whom Pauric continued to mock for the entire holiday.
We landed in Malmo Airport and met an Irish guy who showed us the bus for Copenhagen. After getting severely ripped of because of the euro we only had, we hit Copenhagen. We decided the only thing to do was to try out the local beer. 7 FUCKING EURO for a pint of Carlsberg in a crowded "Irish" pub full of Swedish/German football hooligans. Enough of that shit we thought. Out ta' fuck. We sat in the train station eyeballing the countries very very very fine looking women and smoking a load of cigarettes just because we could! Eventually we got he train out to Roskilde village/town/city (I don't have a clue what it is). On the way we seen an elderly wine'o' woman shit herself in the middle of a train station which was both amusing and disgusting.
In Roskilde nobody had a clue where anybody was going or where the festival was on so thousands of people were roaming the streets looking for some sort of a sign post. We found a guy from somewhere in South America who said he new the way so we believed him. We walked for over 2 hours in the blistering heat with supper heavy bags, tents and a monster (Duffy & his bag!). Luis the dude we meet was belting on a head of us (lazy stoners cant walk very fast!) when a car pulled over and 2 beatifull women got out and offered us a lift. We drove past Luis which really sickened him. Turns out it was like a 6-7 mile walk we were going to have to do if it wasn't for these 2 women.
The gates of the festival didn't open until Sunday morning but the crowd out side was crazy just waiting for the place to open. We found a nice we spot to sit down and start our drinking for the night. We were sold some life changing hash which sent all of us haywire after just a few joints. Turns out by the end of the night Neil and I fell asleep in a spooning position face down in a river of piss by the fence. Not a nice sleep!
The next morning we got our wrist bands and searched for a place to set up camp for the week. It was just our luck. To the right of us were a group of around 12 Neo-Nazi's who hates Homosexuals, Drugs and any music or drink which wasn't beer or death metal. Behind us were angry Germans who had the worst taste in music and played a really crap German pop-dance song on repeat through out the entire festival. Across the way was a group of drug dealers who kept us in stock every day. No friendly camps could be seen for miles so we could do nothing but make friends with the Neo-Nazi's. Turns out they’re not a bad bunch but are still pure insane.
Mark and Amy arrived the next day and were not long getting into the party spirit. We sat around with the Nazi's drinking their endless supply of beer and making general chit-chat to keep them happy. It was all fun and games until one of them took Mark to one side and told him that they were going to kill him because they thoug

play my game in the flashbox

my high score in 134!!!!!!!