Ask Audrey: I had one of those ‘what’s that smell?’ moments, when I realised it was all the Norry fans in Páirc Uí Chaoimh

Ask Audrey has been sorting out Cork people for ages...

How’re oo goin’ on? There’s fierce excitement here below in Dunmanway with the news that Rod Stewart will be playing in Páirc Uí Chaoimh next year. We’ve already booked the minibus with Mick Pat Mick Pat Tours, and didn’t I burst into ‘I Don’t Want to Talk About It’ until Paul Pat Peter said would you ever stop singing about Cork football, ya hoor ya. The only worry now is the weather. Do you know at all if it will be raining on Saturday, May 25, next year, at about seven o’clock?

— Dan Paddy Andy, Dunmanway.

Fair play to the GAA for letting Rod play the Páirc. I presume his support act will be a charity gaelic football match, I’d hate for them to break their own rules. I checked with my contact in Met Éireann. He said as long as Donald Trump stays in power, the forecast for next May is 430 degrees celsius, with light mercury showers.

#Bahamas.

Hello old stock. I took a nap in my 182 C Range Rover in the drive of my Blackrock Road mansion on Tuesday afternoon after a particularly lively night with Hoggy and two trapeze artists from the Ukraine. (New meaning to the word flexible.) Anyway, I had one of those ‘what’s that smell?’ moments, when I realised it was all the Norry soccer fans in Páirc Uí Chaoimh for the Liam Miller match. That got me thinking — guided tours for the less well off. Do you think your common types would pay to see the inside of my house?

— Reggie, Blackrock, would it be a good idea to hide my booze?

Yes. From yourself. I asked my Posh Cousin is it normal for a Blackrock snob to allow a gang of Norries into his home. She said not really unless you are interviewing for a cleaner. I said, what would these Norries need to feel at ease walking around a southside mansion? She said a balaclava and the code for the alarm.

#ZeroFilter

We live in an exclusive development on Maryborough Hill, but could only afford the second most expensive house because My Ken’s mother didn’t die in time for us to sell her mansion. (So much for praying.) As a result I can’t sleep at night, thinking of that bitch Belinda in number 47, looking down at us through her 25-grand sash windows. Anyway, I was watching the finale of that BBC show The Bodyguard, when I realised that’s what I need to give me an edge. So, where would be a good place to get a bodyguard in Cork?

— Monica, Maryborough Hill, I wouldn’t mind a rough Norry.

As if there’s any other kind. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re two months too late. You’re nobody in Posh Cork this September if you don’t have a gorgeous Scottish guy following you around with an earpiece, wondering if he’s going to get into your knickers. Anyway, enough about my stalker.

#KuteKenny

C’mere, what’s the story with pretending to be polyamorous. The old doll said it do be all over the media these days, and that herself, myself and the buddy Lofty should pretend to be three-in-a-bed and see if we can get our own show on the telly. We’ve already taken a publicity photo, where Lofty do have this sly grin because he do be knocking off my old doll and I do be sitting there with a face on me like Roy Keane after missing a penalty. So like, do you think this might be bad for our relationship? (Lofty and me, I could always get another old doll.)

— Dowcha Donie, Blackpool, would you watch the show?

I’d rather give a sponge bath to Des Cahill. (Imagine.) My best friend became a relationship counsellor because she’s too lazy to find a job. I asked her do friends fall out if they share a partner. She said, well you and I are still talking. I said, I forgot we had that big fight over Tiny Tim. She said yes, and the loser got to keep him. #ReallyTiny

Ciao. I am delighted to see Ryanair is putting on a flight from Cork to Naples. Finally I can bring one of my six girlfriends to see my home city, where we will have the most beautiful time as long as we don’t bump into my wife. The problem will be at Cork airport. I have a separate phone for each girlfriend, which will be tricky to explain to the one I bring, when I take them all out of my bag at security. Can you think of a solution?

— Gennaro, Naples and Ballinora, maybe she won’t notice.

I certainly wouldn’t notice, I never get on a flight without drinking at least five gin and tonics. (It would be more if I was a nervous flyer.) My cousin is a travel agent, she has been tasked with getting Norries to go somewhere other than Lanzarote. (#Impossible.) She said, why doesn’t he just distribute them across four or five checked in bags. I said, because he’s flying Ryanair and it would be cheaper to buy the plane.