Sorting out Cork people for ages....
We’re bringing my auld doll’s Mam down to Kerry for a spin this weekend because she’s easily pleased.
I want to wear my Cork jersey to show the auld doll I’m out with her, because she won’t let me go to Thurles with Shortie and the boys.
But I do be worried that the pig-kissing locals in Killarney will be slagging me over the football, which has nathin’ to do with me, it’s a game for West Cork lads, who are basically Kerry people with shoes. Do you think I’ll have a bad time of it below, lah?
– Dowcha Donie, Blackpool, oh to, oh to be, oh to be a, Re-bel.
A - You’d want to get that seen to, whatever it is. I’m bringing my American cousins to the Munster Final on Sunday. They’ve been cribbing all week about red-neck Trump supporters being the lowest form of life on earth. Wait until they see a coach-load of people from Ennis. #WebbedHands.
(She gets very bitchy in the heat.) So, I hired a private detective to dig up some dirt on her, that I can spread around Club Range Rover in Crookhaven. (It’s where two or more Range Rover drivers park up in a huddle and snigger at people who are delighted with their Kia Sportage.)
This detective chap put my bitchy sister-in-law’s eircode into the internet, and it turns out her address isn’t in Blackrock at all. She’s actually from Ballinlough! (Imagine!) Is it wrong to feel so happy?
– Marion, Blackrock Road, and I have the eircode to prove it.
A - Let me guess – it’s 1CompleteLanger. Our next door neighbour at home became a priest, we call him Holy Noelie. I asked him if God takes a dim view of wrecking someone’s reputation just because they are from Ballinlough.
He said, absolutely, God is always on the side of the less well-off. I said, I thought he had no problem with people being rich. He said, what gives you that impression. I said, your new Lexus.
Busy, busy, busy, so I’ll come to the point. I’m a huge hit on social media, where I send out encouraging messages to sad or overweight people, and then companies give me money to flog them stuff as I’m at it. #BeatsWorking.
The problem is this nice online persona attracts really weedy guys pretending to be feminists, when in fact I’m a bit of a wagon in real life, you know that kind of way?
I want bad boys in BMWs who’ll whisk me off to a fancy hotel, not some dweeb in hemp jocks who’ll rock up on a bike. So basically, how can I find a bad boy without wrecking my brand?
– Supportive Sue, Glasheen, you’re an amazing person.
A - I know. My friend has a dating agency that specialises in finding obnoxiously entitled rich boys for her clients. (It’s called PresOrChristians?) I said, what’s the best way for a woman like Sue to find a rich boyfriend. She said, change your address. #TurnedOffByGlasheen
So I visit the osteopath, she is basically Penelope Cruz, we are meeting for a drink on Sunday, pray to all the saints I don’t bump into my wife or four girlfriends.
This beautiful osteopath said I need to buy an ice-pack for my neck in the pharmacy, I go in there, woman of my dreams behind the counter, if I don’t ask her out, I must go to the Italian embassy and hand back my passport.
Thanks to this hot weather, I have now reached a new level of craziness that we call Cane Con Tre Peni. (Dog with the Three Mickeys.) When will it cool down?
– Giovanni, Milan and St. Lukes, what would you say if I suggested we go to bed.
A - Nothing. (I hate wasting time.) This hot weather is driving us all crazy. My Conor asked if I’d be interested in having sex twice a week. I said absolutely.
He said when would you like to start. I said the next time you’re away for work.
, I’m fairly sure they not even married.
Anyway, didn’t they march into the living room like Cromwell one night and insist I put on this show called Love Island. Well now, I’ve watched some shite in my time, but this crack makes The Today Show with Maura and Daithí look like University Challenge.
However, amn’t I only after getting fecking addicted to it. Can you help?
– Dan Paddy Andy, Drimoleague.
A - My cousin Boxset Barbara is an expert on bad television. She said the only way to get off the couch is to go and experience the thing in real life.
I said, he’s never going to fly to Majorca just to watch people changing partners twice a day. She said fair enough, just tell him drive to Kinsale.