Ask Audrey has been sorting out Cork people for years

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My Polish (or is it Russian?) cleaner is after asking me to the christening of her child. I don’t even know her name! Worse again, she lives in Tower. Imagine if someone saw me! Anyway, I’ve had a long think about it and the only solution is to fire her. In fairness, she’s a great worker. Can you think of any better solution? — Regina, Blackrock Road, my moisturiser is worth more than your car.

You should definitely fire her. And then give her my number. You wouldn’t believe the competition for decent cleaners among Cork ladies who are too posh to push (a vacuum cleaner). I had a great cleaner from Latvia (or was it the Czech Republic) until my own sister nicked her for an extra fiver an hour. So I’m willing to do anything to get a decent replacement. I might even go to Tower.

Good day to you. I was thinking of flying over to your county as a Valentines surprise for my wife. The surprise is that she isn’t coming. I’m bringing our Spanish housekeeper instead. She’s not bad looking for a foreigner and she laughs at all my jokes. Anyway, I’d like somewhere rural, where a chap might get a chance to shoot an animal. Money is a bit tight after a misunderstanding with the taxman. Where would you recommend. — Lord Edward Fitz ‘Snooter’ Von SnobbenPants, London.

Where would I recommend for a posh person planning to cheat on his wife? Have you heard of Kinsale? It’s as English as putting a question mark at the end of a sentence, isn’t it? The only problem is that it can be quite expensive, particularly when you factor in an interpreter. (Some of the locals do be talking peculiar like.)

Hey man. I went to my girlfriend’s house last Tuesday and her mother made pancakes. (Except she called them crepes because they live in Sundays Well.) They were like totally delicious. How come you guys don’t eat pancakes like, all the time. — Chad, Chicago and like St. Lukes.

The main reason we don’t eat pancakes all the time is because we are not Americans. When I was in Chicago last year, half the people were about the size of Crosshaven.

We wanted to go to the local pancake place one morning but there was a fella stuck in the door. The waitress was trying to sort it out by covering him in butter, but he kept licking it off. When my Conor tried to help, the pudgy boy tried to take a bite out of his arm. Ye Yanks are mad for the food.

How’re oo goin’ on? The missus says she wants a surprise for Valentine’s Day and it better be an improvement on what I got her for Christmas. In fairness, it isn’t every woman appreciates a pair of cycling shorts from Lidl in the wrong size. I see Aldi has bras and this pink stuff they’re calling rosé. What is it and how do you open it? (The rosé, not the bras. I got very good at opening them when I was working over in London. In a bra factory.) — Ger Dick Willie John, keep going beyond Inchigeelagh until someone stops you and asks is it still 1973.

Rosé is a sparkling wine that is given to women who are well used to disappointment. It should be perfect for your wife. The correct way to open it is to hand it to someone else and says, “Here, you give it a go, I usually end up soaked.”

Top of the beejaysus to ya. I was planning to fly over to old Cork this summer, to see my relations in Youghal. I heard there was going to be this flight from Boston with some Norwegian airline, but there is nothing yet on their website. What’s the crack there, mo cuishle? —Tony Fontinelli, I just pretend to be Irish to get some hot chick action on Paddy’s Day.

We’ve heard about these flights as well. Some people are looking into it. The latest thinking is they were announced on the Norwegian equivalent of Fool’s Day. That’s the bad news.

The good news is we are having an election here shortly. Every politician in the country is crawling down to Cork promising they will make sure the flights go ahead. Don’t be surprised if a guy called Enda Kenny arrives at your door and promises to fly you over himself. He’s basically our Donald Trump, but without the brains. Imagine!

The main reason we don’t eat pancakes all the time is because we are not Americans. When I was in Chicago last year, half the people were about the size of Crosshaven. We wanted to go to the local pancake place one morning but there was a fella stuck in the door


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