My uncle is a vintage wine expert, that’s what they call a borderline alcoholic on the Model Farm Road. I said, where would a person find 100 empty bottles of expensive wine. He said, try my glass bin. I said, I think you might have a problem. He said, damn right I have a problem Audrey, they only collect it every four weeks and it’s over-flowing after two.
This is one for my friend, Believing Belinda. (She’s still gullible enough to wear Michael Jackson t-shirts.) I told her about your fiancee. She said that’s really tragic. I said, why? She said, he sounds lovely, I wish he was engaged to me. Then she did a moonwalk. #JesusWept
I’d marry you myself but I’ve become weirdly attached to My Conor in recent days. (Top tip, never buy cheap furry handcuffs on the internet.) Anyway, this is a task for the Posh Cousin. I said, what’s the fastest way to find out if someone is a plain, sensible nymphomaniac who’d do anything for money. She said, ask if they’re from Mallow.
Unless you had kids. I’m going to have two little moany faces around me for the next fortnight, saying it’s a bit early for my first gin and tonic. Anyway, my cousin became a teacher but don’t let that put you off. I said, how can Dowcha Donie cope with this provocation? He said, it’s time people listened to teachers and understood what they are really saying. I said, that’s a non-runner, she’s from Millstreet. #DoubleDutch
Where, in Las Vegas? That idea is as tasteful as an all-you-can-eat buffet at a hunger-strike commemoration. My aunt is Vice President of Keeping Up Appearances in Douglas Golf Club. I said, what does a new Cúl Camp top say in Ballintemple. She said, my parents couldn’t afford to bring me to Sardinia. #ChildPoverty