Ask Audrey: Is it still ok to just lob the gob after 10 pints?

Sorting out Cork people for ages...

C’mere, what’s the story with scoring at a work do after a few bevvies? I do be back on the dating market after 16 years, because my old doll refused to believe I needed four mobile phones due to a rare medical condition. (Her argument was that sex addiction isn’t that rare.) Anyway, our Christmas do at work is on Saturday week – is it still ok to just lob the gob after 10 pints, or is that a no-no now because of the feminists?— Dowcha Donie, Blackpool.

My cousin has just started an old-skool club night for people who like shifting after a few drinks. I said, what are you calling it. She said, You’ll Do. #ImSoThere

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Now listen up Paddy. I have just come from a meeting of the British Establishment where we pranced around with antlers on our heads and passed a motion declaring that Prince Andrew is making us look completely ridiculous. If only he was a working class chap we could order him onto daytime TV and let the presenter make a complete fool of him; unfortunately Randy Andy is a bloody Windsor who can order the BBC to give him a primetime slot so he can make a complete fool of himself. The opposite of huzzah! It is clear that charities over here won’t touch him with yours, so do you have a charity over there looking for a patron?— Lord Edmund D’Servant-Shagger, London, asking for a friend.

Bet it’s the Queen. My neighbour is big on the charity lunch scene in Cork, she says it an amazing way to avoid poor people as long as you don’t make eye contact with the waitress. #GivingBack I said, would you be interested in Prince Andrew. She said, we’ll need a hook, tell him email me something funny about himself. I said, no sweat. She said, I heard that one already, #Hilaire.

How’re oo’ goin’ on? My neighbour down the hill isn’t bad looking for a woman of 72 and her a widow since last month. I hope you don’t think I’m some kind of pervert but I’d always keep one eye on her line of washing, to check out the situation with her knickers. Up until recently, they were the kind of thing you’d expect to find under Mrs Browns Boys skirt. (Not that I’d be looking.) However, now that himself is cooling down in the grave, hasn’t she gone mad for the frilly yokes. She also gave me a bit of a ‘hey baby’ look going into Mass on Sunday morning. So, I’m thinking of responding to her ‘message’ by putting a few pairs of sexy jocks out on my own line. Am I stone mad or what?

— Dan Paddy Andy, head out beyond Dunmanway until you see a man saying “Crysht, lads, how does anyone wear these budgie smugglers?”

Underwear on the line is a tricky one. I remember someone said to me once, that’s some selection you have out there Audrey, you must have a very active sex life. I said, sorry now, but I don’t see how that’s any of your business, My Conor.

My mother went to her eternal award on Tuesday night. It was very difficult just now, going through the stuff in her house – none of us had called over to see her for ages, it took over four hours to find a copy of the will. Anyway, let’s say it was worth the effort. #RochestownRoadHereICome #InYourFaceMajella #PrivateJoke. I don’t want to use the funeral home’s limo, because I’m afraid someone will take a photo of me getting into a 161 C Mercedes. #Poverty. My Fergus went out and bought a display model of the most expensive car in Cork just now – can we tell the funeral directors to shag off with their old limo, or would that just be rude?— Bronagh, Frankfield, but not for much longer

My uncle is a funeral director. I said, would you get mad if a snobby cow insisted on using her own car? #NoOffence He said, not at all it’s very important that we hide our true emotions. I said, in case the family sees how happy you are that someone died? He said, precisely. #SorryForYourTroubles #Kerching

Hey, Ken here, from Douglas Road Doctors with American Accents. I just ordered a brand new Audi ONLINE, didn’t even check the price, sick. Still seeing this chick from Friars Walk, even though I just found out that her father can play the spoons. (It’s a musical instrument for poor people who can’t afford a piano. Mind blown.) Her mother – De Mam - said “Eddie boy, why don’t you take Dr Ken for a few pints on Barrack Street on Friday, show him how we do things around here” and then she went back to smoking her cigarette. I said I better reach out to you and get me some low-down on this Barrack Street.— Dr Ken, Douglas Road, will I be able to get craft beer with hilarious names?

Absolutely. Barrack Street has been over-run by a plague of hipsters, including my cousin, New Beard Benny. I said, what do you like about the area? He said, everything. I said, so what’s stopping you from living there? He said, my mother’s reputation in Monkstown Golf Club.

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