Ask Audrey: You’re 9 on the Crazy Scale, where 1 is sane and 10 is flying with Ryanair

Ask Audrey has been sorting out the people of Cork for years.

Ask Audrey: You’re 9 on the Crazy Scale, where 1 is sane and 10 is flying with Ryanair

I’m become a laughing stock in my own family. Despite spending in the low seven-figures for a mansion on the Douglas Road, the camera app on my phone insists any photos taken here are in Turners Cross! My brother (Maryborough Hill) keeps sending me a screenshot of a photo he took here, including my ‘address’, with the caption “You do be living from hand to mouth, girl.” Is there anything I can do?

— Clodagh, Douglas Road, not that there’s anything wrong with Turners Cross

Sure it’s only a short walk into Penneys. And with the dump out of action, you can actually breathe through your nose. (As long as the wind isn’t blowing from Ballyphehane). Anyway, my Conor is a tech nerd, so I asked him about camera apps getting the address wrong. He said it’s very common. I said, just like Turners Cross. He said surely someone who bought a mansion on the Douglas Road doesn’t have to worry about impressing her family. I said, you’re right, she probably wanted it for the unrivalled views of Motocross at Vernon Mount.

Hey, how’s it going. My wife and I have an open marriage, because we wanted to fit in when we moved to Kinsale. We haven’t told our son about this because he’s a fierce prude. (I walked into his bedroom one day and caught him reading the bible. I’m not sure which one of us was more embarrassed.) Anyway, he’s totally cramping our style and making it impossible for me to flirt with the au pair. Would it be OK to send him to boarding-school?

— Garvin, Kinsale, what are you doing tomorrow night?

Avoiding Kinsale. There’s nothing worse than sharing a house with a teenage god-botherer. My 19-year-old niece from Limerick was staying with us for the summer, because she wanted to improve her English. She spent her time listening to Christian rock stations, playing songs like ‘No Tongues Lads, I’m Religious’. I said you should get out and enjoy yourself. She said there’s nothing enjoyable about wearing a revealing cat suit and dancing all sexy on a table next to a stag party from Bologna. I said is there any chance you could stop following me around.

How’re oo goin’ on? I’ve started making eyes at this woman at Mass and I think she might be interested. (She either winked back or has a slight tremor, I’ve had problems distinguishing between the two in the past, with catastrophic consequences.) The thing is, though, she’s seven years older than me and I’d hate for people to think I was some kind of granny snatcher. Do you have any view on the old age-gap crack?

— Dan Paddy Andy, Macroom, I’m 92

I’ll keep this short, because there’s no guarantee you’ll still be around at the end of the sentence. Go for it. The only thing you have to lose is a set of dentures behind her couch if things turn a bit frisky during Nationwide. (Bit of vom in the mouth just thinking about it.) I’m five years older than my Conor, for what it’s worth. (About 500 grand, if his mother would just hurry up and croak, so we can sell her house in Sunday’s Well. Only messing, Mildred! Stay strong!)

C’mere, what’s the story with Japan? My trendy nephew do be doing architecture and he brought me to the Miyazaki restaurant at the end of Barrack Street to show off. Anyway, they had a thing called Stewed Nori up on the board, as wan of de specials. Like, if a Japanese fella came into Cork and started stewing southsiders, people would be going mental altogether. What do you think I should do?

— Dowcha Donie, Blackpool, I ended up going to Pearl River

Good idea, serving Nori in there would be a form of cannibalism. Nori is actually an edible seaweed. I asked my Posh Cousin about it. She said it’s great for vitamin B and humiliating people who don’t know what it is (no offence.) I said is there any kind of Nori that’s particularly popular in Asia. She said Roy Keane. I nearly spat a mouthful of Pinot Grigio at her with all the laughing.

Grim times here in Chez Deirdre. The man on the till in Aldi asked if my bags were my own. They were, but I’m Irish, so I got a fit of morto and started acting all guilty. I’m thinking of going into Lidl just this once, so I can get some of their bags to bring into Aldi, to avoid future embarrassment. Do you think this is a bit crazy?

— Deirdre, Blackrock Road, I talk faster than I think

That wouldn’t be hard. I wouldn’t worry about appearing crazy. You’re a Blackrock Road woman who goes into Aldi without wearing a disguise. It’s fair to say that you left Crazy Town behind a long time ago. I’d give you a nine on the crazy scale, where one is sane, and 10 is booking a flight on Ryanair.

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