Hello it’s Rosealeen here from Ballydesmond. Well that’s the end of me now going on a date with a man over 60. I’ve had a run of younger men over the past few months and all they want to talk about is protein shakes and their shagging mental health. And as for hot loving, don’t even go there, they’re all “do I have your consent to touch you there?” and “are you enjoying this as much I am?”. I don’t know how many times I’ve had to tell them to shut up and get up on with it, my car is in the multi-storey and I’m about to go into the second hour. Berna said you’d be better off going old-school, so I went on this site to meet men over 60, it’s called Ring Ahead and I’ll Pop A Viagra . I hooked up with this lad Kierán in downtown Ballydesmond and he was straight in with the busy hands which was just what I was looking for. Kinky as the man from Innishannon he was and didn’t he tie me to a pole and went off to have a pint. Well didn’t he arrive back two hours later and I said where were you, you gowl and he said I forgot where I put you, the old memory isn’t the best. Two hours later the WhatsApp was lit up with people forwarding the latest joke from Kiskeam – What do you call a Ballydesmond woman tied to a pole? Rosealeen, from Ballydesmond. I’m disgrace d for life because of Kierán - what can I do to recover my reputation?
Hello old stock, Reggie here in my 5.4 million euro mansion on the Blackrock Road. I’m heading off to Montreal there for a romantic weekend – not a word now to my wife Marjorie, it’s a surprise and anyway she’s not coming with me. I won’t be flying out of Cork thank God, because Cork people have an awful habit of talking to their betters in the airport, and the last thing I need on a romantic weekend is some gouger from Cloyne banging on about his greyhound. The flip side of that is I’m flying out of Dublin. Normally the only problem there would be the smell of disappointment when you’re motoring through the midlands, but of course this year you could end up joining the queue for Terminal One at the arse end of Kildare. Now, normally I’d whizz past the knuckle-draggers in any queue for Cork airport, sure there has to be some advantage to being a well-known millionaire. Unfortunately the crowd up in Dublin are pig ignorant, none of them even went to Pres and there’s a chance they won’t be swayed by a photograph of my fifty foot yacht. Do you know, is there a fast-track in Dublin Airport for beautifully-spoken millionaires from the Blackrock Road?
Guten Tag. My colleague has invited me as her plus-one to a wedding this weekend in West Cork. She said, don’t be getting the wrong idea now Jurgen, it’s just that my ex-boyfriend will be there with his new skinny bitch of a girlfriend and I don’t want to be put at the singles' table next to some dreary trainee chef from Kilkee . I told her not to worry, we would not make a good couple anyway, it would be about as much fun as a comedy festival in my native Germany. This is a lie! I have loved her since the day I saw her puking into a salad bowl at our summer bbq, Irish people go crazy with free drink. I am tempted to reveal all before the wedding, but this might lead her to withdraw the invite and ask Pronsiais from accounts, he is like a human lizard. What should I do?
It’s getting cranky on our WhatsApp group Douglas Road Stunners Who Just Aren’t Sure About Clonakilty. Fifi_AmazingSkin said she’s sick of Schull and Baltimore for the summer, it’s full of people down from Dublin who can’t wait to tell you they saw Johnny Sexton in their local Circle K. Soz, Dubs, Ronan O’Gara is top dog there again, that’s Fifi’s take on it and she’s backing it up by hiring a house for July just outside Clonakilty. I don’t know Audrey – Clon is fierce close to Owenahincha, which is basically Ballyphehane-on-Sea. On the other hand, I don’t want to unveil my four grand jumpsuit in Crookhaven next month, if it’s going out of fashion. (Crook now, not the jumpsuit.) So, do you know what people are saying about Clonakilty?