Sorting out Cork people for years...
I haven’t stopped crying since I got back from Crookhaven on Monday. Every single woman there this year had a jaw-dropping set of new boobs, while I was forced to walk around with my three-year-old chin. In fairness to my Ken, he promised to go to Jersey in a few weeks and come back with enough cash in used 50s for a new nose. (It’s entirely legit.) In the meantime, I was thinking nothing screams loaded on the Douglas Road more than a few days in the Bons. Unfortunately I’m not sick, but do you have any pull in Bon Secours hospital to get in there for three nights?
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