Sorting out Cork people for ages
How’re oo’ goin’ on? The niece is down from Dublin, very nice girl altogether once you get past the accent. Didn’t she arrive down yesterday with a sweatshirt that has ‘Okay Boomer’ written on the front of it. I said, you’ll look like a clown walking around Dunmanway in that to which she replied, “Okay Boomer” and high-tailed it down town. According to Tim Pat Tim Pat Timmy Timmy Tim Pat, this ‘Okay Boomer’ thing it’s a protest against old people because we own a house. So, are the young people a complete shower of pricks now or what? — Dan Paddy Andy, Dunmanway.
Had a good chat with my 19-year- old niece about this. I said are you angry at your parents for hogging all the wealth and ruining the planet? She said, “totally”. I said, so what’s your plan? She said, guilt them into buying me a mini convertible. What’s your plan? #Cheeky
Okay pal? I’m a seriously good looking bloke from Edinburgh who ends up turning away lines of women every night down in London on account of my beautiful fucking accent. I’ve taken a look at the polls for the upcoming election here in crazy land, and I don’t mind telling you it’s a shocking state of affairs that we’re going to be stuck with straight out of clown college Boris Johnson for the foreseeable. Consequently, I’m reviewing my situation and planning a move to your wee city over there in Ireland. Will I get a lot of unwanted attention from your birds? — Callum, Edinburgh and maybe Cork, I’m a one-woman man who likes long walks.
I’m on my way up to the airport. My Posh Cousin has a podcast for women who’re weak for Scottish blokes, it’s called Jocks Off, Jock. I said, is there any downside to getting jiggy with a Scotsman? She said when you open your eyes and it isn’t Ewan McGregor. #Deva
I’m a founder member of the WhatsApp group, Mount Oval Moms Who Just Ran a Personal Best. Our iPhone 11 Pro Max’s are hopping this week because the Ferris Wheel is going back up in the city. We use it as the starting point for our boozy Christmas lunch. Nothing says Christmas more than sitting high above the Grand Parade in a €1,000 Alice + Olivia jumpsuit, looking down at people who only live on Douglas Street. They really dilute the whole southsider brand, don’t they.) The problem with this wheel is it stops to let slack-jawed bog families from Mallow on, wasting time when we could be getting off our tits on mojitos. #LivingOurBestLife! So, how can we get an exclusive ride on it, money no object obvs? — Martina, Mount Oval.
My Conor is very well connected with the people who run that thing in town. I said, any chance of an exclusive ride? He said no way, I’m really after growing fond of our open relationship. #WhoSaysFondAnymore
C’mere, what’s the story with this new thing Day Clubbing? The old doll’s best friend is having her birthday bash this Saturday. In the past, they’d go out around 7 and my one would roll in the door at 5 the next morning, with half a breast in a bun down her top, do you know that kind of a way. But now her best friend is 35 and apparently they’re going on the lash for lunch, home for 10, because the new thing is to be all done and dusted before the young people come into town with their hormones. She says it’s called day clubbing, which do sound daft and a bit suspicious. So like, is my old doll having an affair? — Dowcha Donie, Blackpool.
The paranoia will destroy ya. No, day clubbing is a thing now, it’s huge with people who’ll stop at nothing to get a few extra hours away from their kids. #WhatWereWeThinking #TieMyTubes Better still, you don’t end up wrecked until Wednesday week. Trust me, once you go over 35, the hangovers are rougher than a Christening party in Kanturk. #Feral
Hey girl, I’ve just moved into the basement apartment in my old man’s statement mansion in Ballintemple, so I can host meetings of fellow mavericks from the Blackrock area, where we share ideas about the redistribution of wealth and how to hit on hyper-woke chicks without getting called out for being a #dinosaur. The old man stuck his head around the door last night and said “Dude, I got you an internship in your Uncle Eddie’s real estate company on the Mall”. Mayday, Mayday, need to get an offensive, job-stopping tattoo on my face, that also reaches out to this Galway chick at samba band practice and says, “Babes, you need to get with the Ed, ya feelin’ me”. What message should my tattoo convey? — Ed, Ballintemple.
My brother worked as an estate agent until his boss caught him telling the truth. I said, what would you write on your face if you wanted to avoid getting hired by an estate agent. He said, “the other bidder doesn’t exist, I made her up.” (That won’t get you into bed with the one from Galway, so I’m doing you a favour on two fronts. #Crawling)