Hi gang,here. I pulled a few strings in the River Lee Hotel and got them to host a Christmas Coffee Morning for a selection of the misfortunates who write in to me every week. I thought it would be nice to put a face to the name, and then I saw the faces. I know we’re an ugly race and everything, but there is no need for this. Anyway, what’s your problem?
I’m on my second husband. I hope my third husband doesn’t find out. He gets fierce jealous. #Hilaire. I have a friend in Dingle, Seán Seán Seán Seánín O’Sé. I asked him what to wear. He said, people in Dingle go out in filthy old clothes, odd shoes and bit of shite on their face. I said, I know that, but what about on Stephen’s Day?
Give us whatever you like as long as it isn’t the North Of Ireland. I’ve written you a Limerick in return. Happy Christmas ye Lords from the Micks, we’re up to our usual tricks, doffing caps with aplomb, telling ye ye’re the bomb, and telling everyone else ye’re just pricks. #PeaceAndLove
My friend moved to Carrigaline after a series of very poor life-choices. I said, can you find me some good-looking clean people. She said, in Carrigaline?!! You’d have a better chance of finding a mountain range near Amsterdam.
I think I know why Eleanor_TwoMonthsInStMortiz has the hump. I bumped into her on Pana just now and said, come here, what makes you think you can look down at your au pair. She said, it’s kind of unavoidable when she’s lying on the kitchen floor with my husband! #Hilaire
Well I have just the guy. (Shoulders on him). I used him to insulate our guest bedroom and then used him for a spot of bangy bangy while My Conor stood in the back garden - he said he couldn’t hear a thing. #ZeroJealousy
I couldn’t agree with you more, which is hilaire given you’re basically a cartoon northsider. I think we’ve completely lost sight of the true meaning of Christmas which is, to pace yourself on the booze front so you’re just roaring drunk enough to laugh at the jokes on Mrs Brown’s Boys. (Or in my weekly column, says you.)
Nightmare. My mother-in-law imposed a mobile phone ban during Christmas dinner in our huge mansion last year. I said, ‘why?’ She said, I’d like us to sit here and talk about our aspirations for the coming year. I whispered, any chance you could die before the property market crashes? She whispered, I got a new hearing aid. Look, at least we won’t get invited back.
Doesn’t he sound lovely? I passed this on to me gift expert friend, Straight Talking Sonya. She said, it’s a shame she can only spend 500 quid. I said why. She said, it’s not quite enough to give him a divorce. #Solicitors #Kerching
This is one for my old hippy friend, Bag for Life Breda. (Motto – Avoiding Work Since 1994). I said how can he show he’s not a hippy. She said, why not video himself having a wash? I said, because no one wants to watch a 76-year-old man showering. She said, you haven’t spent much time on the web.
You think you have it bad! Try going to a reunion for a girls school. I bumped into this one in the jacks at our 20-year bash last year. I said, so what are you doing now? She said, bawling for you because you can only afford to live in Ballinlough.
My niece is the HR manager for a large company here in Cork. (She spends most of December disciplining interns from Tipperary for mooning at the Christmas party.) I said, what would a high-powered Model Farm Road woman say to a bit of willie at Christmas time? She said, well it’s not exactly a new Jaguar, but I’ve seen worse.
I hope so. Two things about ‘The Lock’. It’s actually spelled L-O-U-G-H, just to annoy foreigners. And don’t worry about fitting in Dr Ken - you’ll be surrounded by quacks! #SorryImOnMy3rdGin
The last time I heard an idea that bad, someone opened a tourist office in Charleville. Anyway, competition time. For you chance to win, complete the following sentence – I would like to spend some time in Turners Cross because I am: A: A masochist B: From Ballyphehane and view it as a step up. #Imagine.