Sorting out Cork people for years...
So would anyone they put you in with. I asked my Posh cousin about this. She said the Bons has a room set aside for your situation. I said how does it work. She said the room is overlooking Sunday’s Well, so after 10 minutes in there the Douglas Road ‘patient’ has to be admitted with a case of acute jealousy. (Don’t they think of everything?)
It’s always a nervous time flying into Cork. (And not just because the runway is tighter than a Togher mam’s dress on communion day). One whiff of fog at Cork and you could be diverted to Shannon, which means a drive through Limerick, which this week means watching the locals dancing like monkeys because they finally won a match in Croke Park. #EasilyPleased
I have a sophisticated cousin, Pretentious Peadar. He got a degree in the History of Art because he’s terrified of getting out of bed before 10:30. I referred your question on to him. He said it only counts as porn if you get turned on. I said the paintings are mainly of nude Irish people. He said that’s definitely art. #NotGreatInTheNip
You’re grand, that’s not a boast. It’s like saying you have the best dress sense in Cappoquin. (#LindaMartin1992.) I’m usually slow to side with semi-literate north Cork bogmen, but I’ll make an exception in this case, given where you’re from. Sorry now, but taking elocution advice from a Waterford woman is like getting hairstyle tips from Boris Johnson.
I passed this on to my cousin, the estate agent. He said he’d have to check with the new office in his company that deals with Norries. I said why do you decide to keep them separate? He said, guess.
I said the smell of Penney’s perfume in the meeting rooms was upsetting the southside clients? He said yes. #IJustKnew