I’ve heard your son is charming and hilarious, Reggie. So it’s clear she didn’t get anything from you. (Which is more than I can say for half the women in Passage West.)
It goes without saying. The Posh Cousin said people are already referring to semi-detached houses in Botanika as ‘The Servants’ Quarters’. I said, are you and Ken thinking of buying in there? She said no, because Botanika is the name of my Lithuanian, or is it Latvian, housekeeper. I said, awkward. She said, ya, it would just be confusing if word got around Ballintemple that Ken is planning to make a move on Botanika. I said nothing. (Open secret.)
She sounds prawn crackers. This is a delicate area. Only last night, My Conor asked me if I had faked an orgasm in the past year. I said yes. He said, I didn’t notice. I said, you weren’t there. He said that’s so deceitful. I said there was a taxi waiting , the meter was running, and Marco’s (or is it Paulo’s) place is in Ballincollig. He said that could rack up a fortune, in fairness. Say what you will about My Conor, but he’s very practical when it comes to money.
Snappy name. (If you’re from Newtwopothouse.) Anyone looking for tips on excluding commoners should read my book, ‘Sorry, No Norries (And Your Dad drives a Lorry’.) It focuses on the positive aspects of Norryland, to encourage them to stay put. After all, the last thing you want is your Hugo sharing a slide with some Darren, in a pair of Tesco jeans. (Imagine.) Anyway, here’s some ammunition. There is actually a sentence in my book, listing the positives of Ballyphehane. “Look, at least it’s not Togher.”
I think it’s time to play the Wild Atlantic Way card. That route from the airport will take your swingers through Kinsale. I’d be amazed if they weren’t tied up there for quite some time, if you get my drift.