The Irish Construction Worker

The Human Zoo - The Irish Construction Worker

The modern day St Patrick goes by the name of St Global Recession and he has driven construction workers off the green island and onto Australian shores. They slosh around Perth in a state of inebriated bewilderment and constantly chase their next hit of the craic pipe. To be sure!

Kiernan sits around his house wearing a blood stained Irish hurling jersey, jean shorts and a pair of thongs. His head looks like a compacted potato doing an impression of a bulldog licking piss off a nettle. Kiernan is in the process of forging his Visa papers to convince the Government he did in fact go fruit picking. “Maybe you shouldn’t lie mate”, an Aussie friend suggests. “I will in my fuck!” Kiernan continues with more semi coherent paddy talk, “ya marnnnn wanted me to work 7 days like, I cannotbedoingwiththat, d’yaknowhwatimeanlike?” The Aussie mate feels like his brain and just been riverdanced on by Mi-cunt Flatley.
Kiernan is satisfied with his immigration fraud and joins the rest of his sharehouse who are crowded around a television watching Gaelic football. He lives with 14 other Irish lads who like to hit the streets of Northbridge in a roaming sausage sizzle that offers plenty of complimentary sleaze sauce. Kiernan rarely has much luck with the ladies. This can be mainly attributed to the 20 TEDs he smashes at pre-drinks and the subsequent 15 pints of Magners. His usual drinking session will span 2 days and cost him a cool $280. Does he urinate on himself? To be sure.

Kiernan’s Gumtree ad described him as a hardworking construction all rounder. The contractor who picked him up is beginning to doubt that claim as Kiernan storms off the job at 11:30am on account of it being, “too fooooking hot, like”. He goes and sits in the front bar of the Paddington in his high vis and dusty work boots. After a few too many sparkling apples, he tries to sneak a cheeky piss at the bar. Not an easy mission at 1pm on a lazy Wednesday. A staff member quickly approaches him, “again? Thats it you're banned for a month”. Kiernan thrashes around like a newborn deer emerging from it’s birthing sack, “I didn’t do natttttttttttttttttin like, didn’t do natttttttttttttttttttttttin I’m a harrrrrmless individual”.

Kieran goes down swinging, “I’ll box the head off ya marrrrrn”. Predictably the police are called, and Kiernan is eventually served with another liquor prohibition notice. He shares the craic with his house mates, “and this female copper like, I said, who lit the fuse on your tampon like”.

What a 4 cunt clover.