Sagnhan Rachii (Ryan Mcallister)
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I have smiled once in my life.
Hello, my official name is Saghnan Rachii. My real name I'll come back to. I'm from Ireland and I'm 27 years old. I would have to describe my looks as, present, because I don't give two shits about my looks. All I care about is my sheep, whiskey, and beer.
This brings me back to my name. My real name is Ryan Mcallister, but I lost it in the local tavern to some Indian fellow. I'll tell you one thing, don't piss of indians, just bugger off before your name sounds more like a desease than a name. My hobbies are like I've said, my sheep and alcohol. When I'm not feeding or grooming my sheep, I'm at the tavern, gettin plastered rotten.

I came from a farm, I live on a farm and god damn it, I'm gonna die on a bloody farm as well.
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That's my house

What's typical for my hometown? Well I know where the tavern is if that's what you mean. I'm not too sure about what's in the city, I don't wander around there too much. The town is called Mullingar and it is in Westmeath county. It's a small town, only populated by about 5000 people or so. I keep to my farm because I don't take kindly to those wierdows in the big city. The city is only known for their two lakes that's not to fr away from Mullingar, the lakes are called Lough Owel and Lough Ennell We have an interesting market at Sundays though, where they sell home brewed beer, different cheeses and some knitted clothes. Also, there are always some kids that sell some bad oregano, and lots of it. I tried it once on my cabbage stew. But Wendy (one of my sheep) ate it before i could, and a while after she got awfully wobbly, don't know what got into it..
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My only dream is for both my liver and my sheep to live through the winter. If you're referring to my life dream I guess I would like to meet Oprah Winfrey. Oprah is truly the woman for me, even though she's one of them feminists. She has given me so much advice, I am sure that you can't find a man with softer hands than me in Ireland due to the advice she's given me. But it's not only my skin she has helped. She has given me some brilliant advice on how to improve my eating habits too, and how I react to insults. Oprah has also thought me that I am independent and that I do not need a man to satisfy my needs. Well that's not entierly true, I do have a need to have a good round of slaps with my mates when I'm piss drunk. I don't know if I could terminate that need..
When i think of it, one of my biggest dreams is to see her show live as well.

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That's me testing some brand new tecnology, it's supposed to make you see things in three dimentions.
Bloody waste of money, only thing I saw was blue and red jibberish.
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This is me smiling, the only time I've smiled in my life. I smiled because I got a 40 year old whiskey bottle for my 25th birthday. That was a mighty fine day, the scotch was bloody brilliant, had a real nice kick to it!

I love The Republic Of Ireland, it's the greatest nation on earth. Ireland has the best beer, best whiskey and best sheep. I hate tourists, they're always taking pictures of my house and my sheep. I've got in a few bloody fistfights with them tourists I tell you. Some of them are nice but that's only because they give me their alcohol when I get mad. One drink got me silly drunk just by sniffing on it. There are lot's of gammys out there, that's why I don't like city people to much.

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Ok, I'll admit it, I have smiled twice.

What does it mean to be british? Well, even though I am Irish, I'll tell you what it means. It means having bad teeth and being a hard worker for a low amount of cash. I myself am just representing the working class. The British stereotypes, I would say, are being filthy richt, having foul wifes, bad teeth and supernanny. Football or soccer as some blokes call it, is britains most known sport. But Football is for pansies, rugby is a sport i can relate to, pure anger and revenge is what I connect to this sport. Sometimes i don't even care about winning, i just want to break someone's leg before it's too late.
Folk music is also british, especially Irish folk-music. I just can't help rocking my foot back and forth when I hear one of them fiddles play.
Being British is about being proud of your nation, unless you are one of them punker blokes. I like Britain and always will. I actually play a bit of guitar myself.
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Here I am, playing the guitar with some bloke. I can't quite remember his name, I think it was bobo or something.

I think the biggest problem of my country is that we are experiencing a brain drain similar to the one we had in the 80'. A brain drain basically means that the country is loosing their brains. In other words, the smart educated people are moving out of the country. What's happening is that after the kids are done with their fancy degrees and their educations they move out of Ireland, either because they can get a better job or because they want to. It has an effect on Ireland because we get don't have scientists and people with enough education to do the hard jobs. New Zealand, England, Australia are the most popular destinations to move to, but off course the kids move all over the world. One would think that the ''Celtic Tiger'' would help with the brain drain but I didn't at all, before the ''Celtic Tiger'' people moved out like crazy but the ''Celtic Tiger'' didn't get back to many people. The ''Celtic Tiger'' is another word for the time period between 1995 and 2001 when Ireland got transformed from one of the poorest countries in western Europe to one of the richest.

A person I think is significant for the british culture have to be Sir Richard Starkey. I know most people don't fancy ringo but i see something in that bloke that lies in most ''brits''. He's a stubborn guy like most of us, he's filthy rich, he worked his way up from nothing and he has bad teeth. He was the drummer in the british pop band the beatles, wich broke apart in 1970, it is perhaps the most fmous ban in Britain, but the band One Direction is up and coming and may become more famous than the beatles.

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Today something terrible happened, I really can't believe it. I woke up at six in the morning to pet my favourite sheep, wendy. As I walked out in the pouring rain, I saw her sleeping in an awfully odd position. All my other sheep was sleeping weirdly too. I went up to her to have a look, I saw that she was barely breathing. I knelt down and put her head in my lap, as I ran my fingers through the fur on her head, she gave out a weak ''bah'' before she took her last gasp of air. I looked up into the sky and yelled ''why?!'' I laid her head on the ground, determined to find out what it was that killed her. I ran around the field looking for broken glass or anything that she could have eaten, but there was no trace of evidence, there was no mark on her body either.
I ran back to her and tasted the grass next to her, whiskey. How could whiskey have gotten into the soil? That's when I noticed the whiskey barrel next to the fence about 10 meters from me. There was a note on what was left of the barrel, ''Happy birthday, best regards Willy – The tavern.''
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Rest in peace my beautiful angel

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