The lights come on next Thursday, November 19. Given where you live, you’d probably want to leave straight away. It’s a long drive from 1974. Still, it’s better than heading west for Killarney. It’s hard to get into the Christmas spirit when people all round you are still bursting into tears and saying “we losht the All-Ireland, that foul on Donaghy was definitely a peno.” You could always wait a few more weeks for the Christmas market to open on the Grand Parade. Nothing says Christmas more than buying an over-priced bar of soap from a hippy. I suppose he doesn’t have any use for it, says you
Be careful. I hear they’re leaving all sorts on the flights to Lapland these days. My posh cousin from Upper Glanmire ended up sitting next to the fella who reads her gas meter. He kept trying to talk to her. The cheek of some people. Worse again, they got to Lapland and there was no snow. It was just a barren wasteland with miserable little people in ridiculous outfits. She might as well have just driven to Tipperary. Here’s my advice. Buy the kids a couple of new iPads and head to the gym. You know you want to.
What do Irish people like to eat at the Christmas party? The face off each other, as far as I can see. (Which wasn’t very far at last year’s office bash. You’d be amazed how blind you’d get after seven Slippery Nipples.) The favourite cuisine at an Irish Christmas party is known as finger food. This can be eaten standing up, which means nobody has to sit next to Eric from IT. If you think talking to Eric for an hour couldn’t be that bad, then seriously, he’s all yours. Finger food is also greasy. This is very reassuring to Irish people, who like to ‘line their stomach’ in the hope it will stop them from puking into their shoe on Oliver Plunkett Street at four in the morning. (It so doesn’t work.)
Sorry, Hugh, but I think you’re losing sight of the real purpose of Christmas. Which is to give everyone an excuse to polish off a tin of Roses on a Tuesday night in mid-November. I also think you should be careful of the terms you use. One person’s junk is another person’s substitute for sex. (My poor Conor doesn’t get a look in until mid-January. The break does him good.) Speaking of chocolate, you could always go for darker bars with a high cacao percentage. You know the ones that you end up nibbling like a mouse because they are so disgusting. They sound like they might be right up your alley.
You should never ask a Cork person what’s wrong with Cork, Gerry. They’ll just feel obliged to make something up so that other cities don’t feel bad about themselves. I don’t think a fierce Cork accent would have worked for Saoirse in Los Angeles. It not’s great for work prospects when people suspect you are having some kind of fit. Most Cork people tend to change their accent if they want to get ahead in showbiz. Mind you, that doesn’t explain why Graham Norton speaks like he’s third in line to the throne.