Your poor wife. I’m amazed to hear there is a well-endowed man driving around Cork in a Range Rover. (We all know you’re compensating for something.) I asked my Posh Cousin if she’d heard the crazy Viagra fumes rumour. She said yes, in fact “I drove through Ringaskiddy with the window down” is considered a come-on now, down in Carrigaline. I said I suppose it makes a change from ,“I’ve had four pints and I’m still not tired.” She said, exactly.
Not half as impressed as he is by himself. Don’t worry about your ability to fit in. Half of Kerry lives in Cork, we’ve no problem integrating cheerful dimwits who struggle to speak English, innit. (No offence.) One other piece of advice, for an intellectual like yourself. I know in London that most of the uneducated savages are confined to south of the river. Well, over here in Cork, it’s the other way around.
The Von Norries? I asked my solicitor friend if he’d recommend a divorce. He said yes. I said why. He said because he wants to put an extension on his house in Schull, and your misery could help pay for it. And they said solicitors weren’t honest.
Ve are easily amused. I wouldn’t worry about “I’ll be dug out of her.” It’s just a thing Cork mothers say without thinking, along with “I hope it always stays fine for you” and “Who cares if he’s a pompous gobshite with a guzz eye, the important thing is he went to Pres.”
I checked with my niece for you there, she’s a wellness guru and social media influencer. (AKA, unemployed.) She said that vagina steaming thing has been discredited. I said, even though it was recommended by Gwyneth Paltrow. She said no, because it was recommended by Gwyneth Paltrow. I said, I see what you mean.