C’mere, how do you get a job in CNN?
I was washing the dog Roy there the other night when The Old Doll said, “C’mere Dowcha Donie, I’ve just seen a video on Facebook, there’s this other Donie interviewing fishermen in West Cork for CNN and wait for it, he’s from Kerry!” Roy started growling, he don’t like Kerry.
I took a look at the video myself, I’d to watch it a couple of times because West Cork lads can be hard to understand, let alone some gomie from Cahersiveen. And there he was, Kerry Donie, grinning away in Castletownbere and acting as if he owned the place.
I’m not a racist now or anything, but why are we bringing in a Donie from Kerry to talk to Cork people, when our own county is full of Donies.
It’s bad enough that we have Paschal Sheehy reporting from Cork for RTÉ. And like, this reporter thing is a cinch – you open with a comment about the weather, do the interview, bad joke at the end and then back to you in the studio, Moana, or whatever your name is.
I’ve updated my LinkedIn page there with a few lies so can you get on to CNN there and ask them if they’ll be alright with my accent?
It’s getting anxious on our WhatsApp group, Douglas Road Stunners Who Buy New Make-Up for Rugby Internationals.
Bronagh_Own-A-SkiResort said it’s always a nervous trip up to Dublin, because she felt like a muck savage from Clonakilty three years ago in the Shelbourne, when this Dublin 4 princess started pointing at her jumpsuit and chanting ‘Look what just popped in from 2007.’
Fifi_WhitePrius said she was at a party in Ballsbridge before the England match a few years back and didn’t the Botox Bee-atch who owned the place ask her to put on a bib and hand out some canapés, as if she only went to St Angelas.
Bibi_InheritedAFortune said I don’t know what all the fuss is about, they’re playing Wales on Saturday, it’s not like you’re going to try and score with one of them #CantWait4TheScots #OhLadsTheKilts. We banned her for six weeks for being so randy, she’d steal your husband if he wasn’t tied down (and not in a sexy way, Bibi, before you ask.)
I’m heading to Dublin Friday evening with my Ken and I haven’t slept a wink all week because I haven’t been out-out in 2 years and I’m worried that I’ll look like someone at a fashion show in Kanturk. So like Audrey, what are they wearing in Dublin this year?
Hello, it’s Rosealeen here in Ballydesmond. I’m in a permanent state of semi-arousal at this time of the year, looking up flights to Spain in June so that Berna and myself can fly down and get our hands on a bit of tanned talent.
Jesus, it’s virtually impossible to get the juices flowing in freezing February when you’re confronted with the pasty skin on a gentleman farmer from Knocknagree that you met on Tinder, and him standing there apologising for the state of his socks.
Fast forward four months and you’re pulling out your best moves on a dancefloor in Marbella to attract the attention of some sex-god called Rodrigo. A surprising number of them have a fetish for office managers from north Cork, one fellow told me last year that he went to far as to get engaged to that one Lorraine from Kiskeam.
Anyway, didn’t I get a call from Berna during the week to say that our holidays are off because she saw some gowl on the news trying to land a plane in Heathrow in a storm, no dice apparently, and didn’t he have to take off again, you’d want to be wearing an adult nappy, she said. Long story short, she’s done with flying and we should set our sights on Ballybunion.
I said, Berna girl, I’d rather eat my dinner off the street in Macroom. Do you know anyone who would like to come to Spain with me?
Now listen up Paddy. I’ve just come from a meeting of the British Establishment, where the Head of Armed Forces, Farty Basildon, said they are scaling down plans to send tanks to the Ukraine, in favour of a small gang of fishermen from West Cork.
Who needs surface to air missiles when you can just send in some chap called Mick Mike Mickey from Castletownbere? Bottoms-Up Boris said splendid idea, I’d like a photo opportunity with them before I go, I promise I won’t disappear in to a fridge.
Please hand-pick me 7 or 8 of your best fishermen and let me know when they will arrive so Bottoms-Up can organise a suitcase of refreshments?