Ask Audrey: My cousin is a very wealthy GP, I could have married him if we lived in Westmeath

Ask Audrey: My cousin is a very wealthy GP, I could have married him if we lived in Westmeath

Hello old stock. Reggie Jnr came home yesterday morning with his Leaving Cert Results and without giving anything away about the hopeless thicko, I actually got more points on my Driving Licence. I did what any father would do in the circumstances and brought him down to the RCYC for a giant steak and seven gin and tonics.

It wasn’t long before he was in tears because of his results, or maybe the gin, but either way I said, ‘Chin up Reggie Jnr, UCC is just a dating agency for mountainy men from outside Clonmel’. You won’t be surprised to hear he’s a good looking boy, so I’m going to set him up with a Farmer’s Market Stall, selling gluten free cookies to hot housewives from the Douglas Road. Will he thrive, tell me? — Reggie, Blackrock.

One for the Posh Cousin. I said, would Douglas Road housewives feel uncomfortable perving at an 18 year old guy while sampling a cookie? She said, they would in fairness. I said, because of his age? She said no, the calories.

How’re oo’ going on? Tim Pat Tim Pat Timmy Timmy Tim Pat send me a WhatsApp the other night saying he’s undergoing a sexual renaissance and the man 84. It’s all down to a new dating app for over 70s called, ‘If it’s all the same to yourself I’ll turn off the light’.

I signed up myself last night and didn’t I get a message from a 78-year-old woman in Durrus with a fair bit of movement in one hip. She said she’d like us to be friends with benefits. I said, why not, sure we’re friendly people and we both have the old age pension. She said, not those kind of benefits and forwarded me a video of two tattooed Germans having a ride, just to clarify her intentions. It looks like game on.

Where could I get a decent pair of underpants, I haven’t bought them in a while?— Dan Paddy Andy, Dunmanway.

I’m not an expert in the underpants market in West Cork, but if I was to give one piece of advice, it would be to steer clear of Done Deal. #SecondHand

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Hi, I’ve started taking the bus to impress this Swedish guy at work, he’s foolish for the old polar bears. Anyway, I was on the 207 today (the 206 is closer to my house, but I’m afraid people will think I’m from Grange), when this northside one sat down next to me and started talking about her son Gary who’s a plumber in Dubai, as if any of that was a good thing.

Next thing you know, doesn’t she sneeze on me! A mere four hours later, Sven the Swede messaged asking if I wanted to to go for lunch and didn’t I turn to my bestie at work and say, “Look at that now lah, he do be weak for me”. Do I have the Norry Flu? — Anne, South Douglas Road, not by Nemo now, the posher end.

My cousin is a very wealthy GP, I could have married him if we lived in Westmeath. #GenePool. I said, is there such a thing as the norry flu. He said that’s not really my area of expertise. I said, so what it is? He said, signing people sick off work. #7YearsInCollege

Ciao, I love Cork more than my new hairstyle, but I think I must move home. In five years living here in Cork I calculate I have made love to over 400 hundred women, which is a good score even for an Italian. (Mama says there is talk of naming a small piazza after me in my village outside Napoli. #Proud.)

Unfortunately this summer has been, how you say, Baltic and I am, how you say, not able. It is amazing the way it can be 14 degrees, windy and humid — I put on my expensive parka the other day but started sweating like a bed and breakfast owner during a visit from the taxman.

Worse again, the weather forecast for this area is always wrong now. Can you tell me what your meteorological service has against Cork? — Luca, Ballincollig and Napoli.

My ex is a meteorologist, I’ll never forget the day I gave him the bullet. He said, I genuinely didn’t see that coming. I said, you never see anything coming, that’s why you got a job in Met Eireann.

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I made a terrible mistake last month and fired our au pair for sleeping with my husband. The upshot is no gym time because I have to mind my two until we find a sufficiently plain girl on Au Pairs R Us.

I told my sister I’m driven demented from looking after them — she said they have great things in the Crawford for kids, completely Norry free because the lower orders are terrified of art galleries. I’m not much of an intellectual myself — do you think I’d be a duck out of water? — Jilly, Rochestown Road.

I ran this by my arty cousin, Pretentious Pam. I said, what kind of posh Cork people go into the Crawford Art Gallery. She said, ones who reckon they won’t make the toilet in Brown Thomas. #Bursting.

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