Ask Audrey: C’mere what’s the story with a one-night scoring pass?

Sorting out Cork people for ages.

My late father went a bit daft in his final year and got it into his head that he was from the northside. (He ruined Christmas Dinner last year when he looked at my mother-in-law and shouted, “You do be the bulb off-a my Nana Bridie”.) 

To make matters worse, he put in the will that his ashes should be scattered, by his children, up in Fair Hill. (Apparently it’s an actual place.)

Do you know if his final request is legally binding, or can I just flush him down the toilet?
Rebecca, Monkstown, my mother-in-law is still refusing to talk to me.

Every cloud. This must be a terrible time for you, fending off questions about whether or not your father left you any money. (Did he? I won’t tell anyone.)

Anyway I referred your question to my solicitor friend. He said the request is not legally binding, but perhaps you could do it as a sign of human decency. I said that’s unlikely, she’s from Monkstown.

How about ye? Myself and the good wife won a trip to Cork at our local Democratic Unionist Party Christmas Raffle. 

(It was the booby prize. That’s my idea of a joke, so it is.) 

Nay, as you can imagine, we’re a wee bit nervous about paying a visit to the homeland of Michael Collins and all that there. 

Do you know where we might get a good welcome?
Duncan, Ballymena, I enjoy a laugh as much as the next man.

I’d hate to meet the next man. I asked my Posh Cousin where would be a good place to visit. She suggested Bandon.

I said no, we want Duncan to feel like he has left the UK. She said what about Kinsale. 

At this point the phone rang, someone called Arlene Foster. She said, absolutely not, that would be totally unacceptable to any member of the Unionist community. 

I said I think you have the wrong number. She said I have 10 MPs, I can do what I want. The cheek of her.

Hello old stock. Myself and the lads in Cork Con had a good laugh at how the G.A.A. managed a €16 million overspend on Pairc Ui Chaoimh. 

(Your common types can’t handle anything over a 100 quid; that’s actually the motto of Pres when you translate it from the Latin.) 

We were rightly shocked to hear that they plan to cover this debt by selling a bit of land on the the northside. 

Myself and Hoggy did a quick back-of-a-beer mat (Heineken) calculation, and concluded that the whole northside is worth 3 million, tops. 

(And that’s if you can manage vacant possession.) Do you know where the G.A.A are getting their price?
Reggie, Blackrock, I’ve a grand head of hair.

Pity it doesn’t cover your face. I asked my ex-boyfriend, the estate agent, about property prices in Norryland. He said the market is firming up nicely. I said, pity we could never say the same about you.

C’mere what’s the story with a one-night scoring pass. 

The old doll has her Christmas work party on Monday, and suggested that she should be allowed to do the business if she wants, and I can do the same at my party next week, one night only like.

That’s a bit of a balls for me, because I work with six lads in a garage, but we might get invited to a party where I could lob the gob. 

Do you think I should take her up on it?
Proud Paul, Togher, I do be a charmer.

I do be doubtful. I think the most important thing is that both of you understand what’s meant by ‘scoring’. 

I had a similar arrangement with My Conor when we first started going out. He came home and said he kissed a girl from sales, no tongues. 

I said I spent eight hours in a sex dungeon with a well-known auctioneer. And before you ask, there were tongues.

How’re oo goin’ on? After skilfully avoiding the clutches of women for 53 years, didn’t I drop my guard last month and make eye contact with a lady inside in Dunmanway.

The good news is she has a poor sense of smell, which means little or no change in my personal hygiene habits, in so much as they exist. 

The bad news is she’s 64 and the locals have started calling her Cougar Caitlin. Do you think the age gap is too much?
Dan Paddy Andy, turn left at Drimoleague and maybe roll up the windows.

It’s so easy to get a nickname in West Cork. I came back from a hen party in Clonakilty known as Extra-Aurdinree, for reasons I can’t really discuss in a family newspaper. (Gymnastics.) 

I don’t see anything wrong with going out with someone older than you, as long as you manage to close your eyes and pretend she’s 57. 

If you want more on dating a senior, I’d highly recommend my latest self-help book. It’s called Just Make Sure You Get In The Will.


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