C’mere, what’s the story with Chris O’Dowd thinking he’s better than Cork people. I’m on Twitter there, @EyesOfBlueAfterYou, keeping an eye out for langballs who think it’s funny to mock Cork people, so I can call them out for being racists. They’re usually from Dublin, because you know the way that shower do be like. But this week the actor gowl Chris O’Dowd tweeted that he won an Emmy (big deal) and met three people from Cork, and he knew this, because they told him they are from Cork. Like, what else were they supposed to say to him? Nice Emmy? This is more of it now like. Can I get him thrown off of Twitter because of that? — Dowcha Donie, Blackpool.
You seem very angry, even for Twitter. My friend, Hyper-Woke Henchey is doing a PhD in Taking Offence, his thesis is called Who Cares What You Really Meant, I’m F**king Furious. I said, do you think we should get Chris O’Dowd kicked off Twitter for mocking Cork? He said, ah no leave him alone. I said why? He said, the guy has suffered enough, he’s only from Roscommon. #PoorMansMayo.
I’m a founding member of a male cycling group, Douglas Road Doctors with American Accents. (My bike is worth more than your car, that’s just a fact.) That’s by the by, I’ve started dating a nurse from Passage West and didn’t she take me down to her tiny house last weekend to meet ‘de Mam’. Long story short, the toilet is next to the living room and I couldn’t perform. I’ll have a total hernia if that happens again – would it be rude of me to buy ‘de Mam’ a decent-sized place on Maryborough Hill? — Dr Ken, Douglas Road.
My Posh Cousin dated a guy from Passage as part of a charity thing.
I said, did you have any toilet issues in his houseeen? She said no, until his Mam offered me Donkey’s Gudge and it scared the sh*t out of me. #Disgusting.
Our daughter just started in UCC, Agricultural Science, she had the points for Medicine, bawling. We initially thought it would just mean a life of middle-income misery and family holidays in Salou. But it turns to be a million times worse than that. Isn’t she after meeting a guy from Kerry. I suppose if you put the word Agricultural in the name of the degree you’re going to attract monkey-men from across the county bounds. Anyway didn’t she bring him home last night, hot out in fairness despite the pointy brown shoes, but no good to us if he didn’t go to Pres or Christians. How can we get rid of him without appearing heartless? — Monica, Blackrock Road, is there a spray we could use?
There so is! My Posh cousin decided to act after her own daughter arrived home and said that south Kerry people are just misunderstood. (Ain’t that the truth. #CouldYouRepeatThat.) She said, I’ve just launched my new spray for Posh Cork moms worried about bog boyfriends from Kerry. I said, what’s it called. She said, Repel-A-Yerra.
Hi. Harriet came home from GAA yesterday evening talking about a blitz this weekend in some club named after some eejit who died for Ireland. Hugo googled it straight away and thank god I was on my second absinthe because it’s in outer Blackpool! Sorry now, but I didn’t sign Harr up for the bog-ball just so she could literally end-up brushing shoulders with people who have chicken burgers for their dinner. It’s not just me. Our WhatsApp group, Douglas Sideline Parents Roaring At Each Other About Skiing, is on fire all day. Ava_2RangeRovers reckons there must be some kind of protective gear we can buy. I think just give them a good shower with that scrub I nicked from Hotel Europe. What do you reckon? — Siobhan, Douglas Road, not the bit by Nemo now obvs.
I’d like to be able to say you can’t catch anything off a GAA player. But unfortunately I met a Tipperary All-Ireland winner in Rearden’s and I’ve the empty antibiotics bottle to prove it. #Crawling
Now listen up Paddy. I’m done my best to bring my children up as decent members of the British elite and you can keep your snide jokes to yourself if you want to avoid another famine. The problem is my daughter Cressida. She’s always looking for ways to annoy her mother and me, and when dealing heroin failed to raise an eyebrow, she decided to become a Westlife fan. There is no accounting for taste, though the chap who handles my money is certain it cost me a knighthood. Anyway, she contacted me from her yurt in Mongolia to tell me this Westlife are playing a place called Porky Kiev next summer and I must organise for her to go to your Cork. Where should she stay? —Lord Edmund D’Servant-Shagger, are Westlife from Cork?
They wish. Two of them are from Sligo, which is the Irish word for never again. Anyway, accommodation. Your Cressida strikes me as an old money type who spends every waking hour disguising her contempt for the less well-off. So she’d be totes at home in St Lukes.