Ask Audrey has been sorting out Cork people for years

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Any craic? I’ve a house to let back in Dingle if any of ye Cork lads would be interested in booking it for August. It’s not like ye have a match to go to in Dublin or anything. The house has 4 bedrooms and all the mod cons. What do ye think of that now? — Ger Mick Ger, head out of Tralee until you see two brothers sharing a pair of shoes.

I was going to say you’re a cute Kerry hoor, slipping an ad into your letter. Then I took a look at your Facebook page. No one would ever accuse you of being cute. (Is that your nose or a collection of warts?) I’d need a couple of more details before I’d recommend your house. I know from experience that mod cons in a Kerry house means two tin openers and a signed photo of Kieran Donaghy.

How’re oo goin’ on? The missus is off doing the Camino and I’m stuck here again taking care of our Airbnb guests. A gay couple arrived from London last night and I’m terrified of saying anything in case I insult them. What would be a good topic of conversation? — Eddie Mick Mary Mick, head north from Skibbereen until you see a sign saying ‘shag off’.

Say whatever you like, they won’t have a clue what you’re talking about. I called my uncle in West Cork last night and genuinely thought that his dog had answered the phone. That said, you don’t want to appear rude. It’s not like they are in Roscommon. Don’t mind the begrudgers who say there is no way a West Cork man can put on a ridiculous accent in order to make himself understood to the Brits. Sure didn’t it work a treat for Graham Norton.

Ciao. I went to meet my new girlfriend’s parents this week, having given my other three girlfriends the slip. It went very well until the end, when it took us half an hour to say goodbye. What is the problem with you Irish and saying goodbye? — Gianluca, Pisa and St. Luke’s, I have room for one more girlfriend.

Give me a call. (I got my legs waxed on Wednesday, my Conor says I went from a 6 to a 7!) I know what you mean on the goodbye front. My mother will often sign off a phone-call with, “Goodbye so Audrey. By the way, did you hear Monica turned up at bridge last week with a new hip?” A new hip means 10 minutes of extra chat. That rose to half an hour recently when Monica turned up to bridge with a new fella. Apparently she’s ‘very flexible’ since the new hip. Bit of vomit in the mouth when I heard that one.

Like totes, how it going? Six months living in Cork and I’ve landed myself a man from Sunday’s Well! The poor guy keeps trying to compete, even though our holiday home in Glandore is like totes bigger than his actual house. What do you think I should do? — Kimmy, Ballsbridge and now St Luke’s, I don’t know anyone who plays the Lotto.

I don’t know anyone who won it, but I’m still looking. It will never work between you and Mr Sunday’s Well. He will never understand that being upper-class in Cork is like being the tallest man in Munchkin Land. It doesn’t count for much once you leave town. You need a totally unpretentious guy who doesn’t think ‘dowcha’ is a word. That can be hard to find in Cork, but I hear there might be one or two in Turner’s Cross.

Back to school madness here in Chez Fiona. I’m struggling to think of something my Emily can wear to show we went to the Maldives on holidays. She got sent home last year after I sent her to school wearing a t-shirt saying “Mom brought me to Vietnam, 7 Grand for the flights alone.” Do you have any suggestions? — Fiona, Blackrock Road, I’m always on to Ken to buy us an aristocratic title in London.

Why don’t you leave Cork and move there altogether? It would raise the standard of people in both cities. You are clearly writing to me through some time tunnel from 1998. There has been this invention since then called Facebook. It started out as way to rate students based on their looks. It ended up a way for Douglas and Blackrock women to ram each other’s holidays down their throat. At the last count, they had posted 47,457 photos with the caption, “Here are my toes in St Tropez.”

So get yourself an account.