Audrey's been sorting out Cork people for ages...
That would be mutual. I checked with my Posh Cousin.
She said striving to get your child into a fee-paying school is the kind of thing you’d expect from a Norry, and anyway they have strict enrolment criteria based entirely on merit.
I said, what’s she supposed to do so? She said, just turn up at the school gate with your child in a uniform and tell them you’re from Sunday’s Well. #WhoKnew
I should hope so, it’s in Garryvoe. (Never marry a man who only works in the CSO.)
Anyway, good news. My nerdy nephew has developed an app called Posh Patz which plots a route based on your own preferences, so you can avoid streets where they only have entry level health insurance.
Best of all, it beeps loudly when you get too close to the river and shouts “Danger, girl, Danger, You do be less than 200 metres from Norry Land.” #Genius.
#Mutual. My aunt has raised a lot of money for the lower orders without ever meeting one of them. (Another one who likes a charity lunch.)
I asked her if she has any use for a work-shy alcoholic millionaire with busy hands.
She said, he could act as a stand-in for my husband. (Things mustn’t be great again with Uncle Hugh.)
I’m appalled you think I’d judge someone based on their wealth.
You obviously never read my columns, or you’d know that I look down on everyone from Killorglin and Kilmallock, no matter how much money they have.
As for finding a posh campsite, forget about it.
A mobile home is a mobile home, staying in one is like wearing a t-shirt saying I Love Youghal.
My neighbour has her finger on the pulse (she’s a nurse actually.)
I said where would you find a group of people who’d laugh at foolish, offensive jokes that seem stuck in the 1980s.
She said try the audience at Mrs. Brown’s Boys. #BoomBoom