Ask Audrey: What’s the story with having sex five times a week?

Sorting out Cork people for ages...

Hello old stock. When I went out to inspect my enormous back garden after the storm on Tuesday morning, I found an elderly gentleman from the northside called Timmy, standing under one of my 14 trees.

Apparently he went out to walk his dog on Monday afternoon, when a rogue gust of Ophelia picked him up and blew him all the way down to -he back of Chez Reggie. I gave him a cup of tea, and left him into the utility room to warm up.

Timmy has asked me to drop him home, but I’m getting fond of him to be honest. Do you think it’s ok to keep him for a while? – Reggie, Blackrock, he keeps asking for skirts and kidneys, whatever that is.

It’s a sign of poor taste. Although not as bad as keeping a Norry as a pet.

The only way a Posh Cork resident is allowed to keep someone in sub-human conditions is if that someone is a young one from Brazil and you’re giving her 100 quid a week, under the counter, to look after your four kids. (80 quid a week if she refuses to cut your massive lawn.)

Come here girl, what’s the story with having sex five times a week? My fella read an article on his favourite website, Blokes.ie, which said there’s something wrong in your relationship if you don’t have sex five times a week.

Now he do be pestering me for it, morning, noon and night. So like, what is the right number of times to be doing it? – Penny, Ballyvolane, it’s not like we live in Kinsale.

They wouldn’t let you in.

(There’s an unofficial ‘No Norry’ policy at the door.) I know people in relationships have different expectations to their partners.

Take My Conor. (Please.) He has sex twice a week. I myself have it four times a week, although that number can rise during the summer, when there is a flight in from Milan.

We’re very excited about booking our first ski holiday of the season here. It’ll be the first time away with my four month old daughter, Antoinette. As we say here in Sunday’s Well, you’re never too young to sit in departures at Cork Airport, looking down your nose at people queuing for a flight to Tenerife.

(Imagine!) The only problem is I need a Guard to sign her passport photo and I’m terrified my neighbours in Sundays Well will see me going in the door of the Bridewell Station. (Things are still a touch delicate after I was accused of trying to sell The Shakey Bridge to a Chinese vulture fund.)

So, do you know if I can pay someone to go in and sort out this passport thing? – Robbie, Sundays Well, wouldn’t it be a grand job for someone who doesn’t have a degree.

I asked my Posh Cousin about this. She says she has a start-up that does humdrum jobs for key people like yourself, Robbie.

I said why? She said so you can get on with more important business. I said, like what? She said sailing on a Wednesday afternoon and trying on 14 pink v-neck jumpers in Brown Thomas.

Hey dude. I went like kite-surfing with my friend Cameron during Storm Ophelia, because you only live once, right? Anyway, after I posted a photo of this on Twitter (please tell me you pronounce it ‘twidder’), people turned on me and said, “conform man, because like whatever.”

I’m thinking of getting a tattoo saying ‘I rode Ophelia – what did you do today?’ What do you reckon?– Kall with two Ls, Kinsale, I feel so sorry for people who live in semi-detached houses in estates.

There’s one thing we have in common. Thanks for telling me that you only plan to live once. The thought of reincarnation for entitled hipster gobshites like yourself would be enough to give me a fit of the gawks.(No offence.)

Don’t hesitate to get a tattoo, reminding us that you rode Ophelia. I’d say it’s the last thing you’ll be riding for a while.

I’m regretting not sending my son Zach to Crab Lane national school. We decided to send him to a more ordinary place, in the hope that he’d get a rounded personality, by spending time with kids whose parents aren’t very, very high up in Cork legal circles. Unfortunately, all he got is a weird accent, because his teacher is from Killorglin.

I’m thinking of giving her a voucher at Christmas time, for elocution lessons. How do you think that will go down?– Monica, Ballintemple, she pronounces Killarney as Kill-aw-nay.

I pronounce it What’s That Smell? I’d say your elocution lessons offer will go down a storm. Kerry people loving getting something for nothing, as long as it doesn’t involve deodorant or a letter from the Revenue Commissioners.

Tell the teacher I offer a special elocution module for Killorglin peoplel it’s called Not every sentence has to start with ‘come here lads, wait ‘til I tell ye’.


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