Ask Audrey:  Morning sex when you have kids in the house is as rare as a Phd in Kilmallock

Sorting out Cork people for ages

Ask Audrey:  Morning sex when you have kids in the house is as rare as a Phd in Kilmallock

Sorting out Cork people for ages

Hello old stock. Myself and Hoggy went for a quick few pints after the Wales match in Dublin, and as of lunchtime Thursday, we are still out on the lash with two very game ladies from just outside Swansea. (Don’t ask me their names. You know the way it is with the Welsh, you might as well be trying to understand a Norrie with a new set of teeth.) Anyway, I don’t want to ring the wife Marjorie, because my voice is gone from shouting ‘One more for road, Hoggy old stock?’ Could you tell her that I’ll be home some time Saturday afternoon weather permitting, but I’ll be heading straight back out again. (Meeting Hoggy for a pint.) — Reggie, Blackrock

I rang Marjorie there and told her the news. She burst out crying on the phone. I said, but he’ll be home in two days. She said I know, that’s the problem.

C’mere, what’s the story with morning sex? My new old doll likes to start the day with a bit of the other and I do be wrecked then going into work. But, like, when I got in the mood after watching women’s figure skating the other night, she was like, no way Dowcha Donie, I need my sleep. Is there anything I can do to get her into sex at night (the way God intended)? — Dowcha Donie, Blackpool, is there anything to be said for female Viagra?

No. There is a very simple solution to this. You and the old doll should have a child together. (You can borrow one of mine for the weekend.) Trust me, morning sex when you have kids in the house is as rare as a Phd in Kilmallock. When our youngest child reached three, my Conor said he’d like me to switch and start having sex at at 11pm. I said that isn’t going to work for me. He asked why. I said because it’s usually midnight before I get my nails into an Italian in Crane Lane.

How’re oo’ goin’ on? Herself is after falling in with a bunch of radical hair-dressers from Leap and didn’t she come home the other night and tell me I need to get a mullet. Apparently it was popular one time, then it went away, and now it’s back again. Anyway, she won’t rest until I get one. Can you tell me what is this mullet crack, at all? — Dan Paddy Andy, take the last left before Skibbereen

How will I know it’s the last left? A mullet is haircut that is short at the front and sides, but long at the back. It was popular in the 1980s with people who thought it was OK to go dancing in Chandras. (Imagine.) Don’t worry about looking like a clown if you get a mullet, it never died out in some areas. For example, I was in Skibbereen last weekend and every second local looked like Bonnie Tyler (and that was just the men).

I have a problem with my cleaning lady. She’s from the northside (although that’s not the problem, amazingly enough), and she just rang there to say she can’t come Saturday, because there is no way she’ll be able to get back home to Farranree ... or is it Hollyhill? I was going to say, I know a lot of people would be delighted they couldn’t get to Farranree (... or is it Hollyhill?) but you know the way Norries are proud of where they come from. (Imagine.) Do you think I should offer her a place here for the night? — Clodagh, Douglas Road, the alternative is to clean my own house

That’s one way to stand out on the Douglas Road. I asked my Posh Cousin what’s the story with letting northsiders stay in your house. She said it’s not too bad, once you have the right things to give them for breakfast. I said like what. She said a packet of own-brand Coco Pops and 20 John Player Blue. (Harsh but true, I suppose.)

Myself and Ken arrived back from an island in the Indian Ocean you’ll never visit, on Wednesday, to find we were very short of food. I sent the au pair out today to get some. (She’s German or is it Polish, they’re well used to the cold.) Anyway, there was hardly anything left in the shops, so we had to give our little girl frozen pizza for two days in a row. Obviously, they hated it and begged for poached hake with organic kimchi, which made me feel super-proud (of myself). But I’m worried the pizza is a slippery slope and they’ll end up lower middle-class. Is there any way to turn this around? — Monica, Monkstown

I passed your question on to my Posh Cousin. (Very busy this week.) She said you are now in what Posh Cork calls the Red Zone. I said what’s the definition of the Red Zone. She said you are basically one pizza away from your kids asking if they can go to Douglas Community School. Chilling.

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