It’s getting blackmailey on our WhatsApp group Douglas Road Stunners Who Know What You Did with That Trainee Mechanic from Carrigtwohill. The Stunners had an amazing day out on Pembroke Street last Saturday, wearing limited edition Gucci t-shirts with ‘Too Posh For Princes Street’ written on the back.
The only downside was gangs of frisky twenty-somethings queueing for pints while we hoovered down top-drawer prosecco and shouted about the cost of our new Swedish hot-tubs, so that Emer Cronin-Buckley could hear us at the next table. Anyway, there was this one guy queuing for pints that kept giving me the eye even though he was wearing a Cork hurling jersey. I thought no chance mate, until I got stuck into the Negronis and thought to myself, Jesus Jenni, look at the shoulders on him.
Anyway, let’s just say I got a closer look at them in the back of his friend’s Nissan Micra. Unfortunately Fifi_TwoWhiteRangeRovers has a photo of me sashaying away with him and isn’t she threatening to publish if I don’t give her our house in Crookhaven for August. Do you know anyone that could hack into her phone for me?
Hello, it’s Rosealeen here in Ballydesmond. My brother Fintan (pronounced Fintin) isn’t bad looking for north Cork and didn’t he land a very posh one from the Rochestown Road inside in Cork - the word on the street is that she set her heart on landing a rugged bogman after watching Poldark, where that Irish lad was mad showing off his greasy chest.
Anyway, didn’t Fintan’s relationship thicken up like Bisto in the past year. Not only did he pop the question last Christmas, didn’t your one say yes, after asking him to repeat it a couple of times for clarity, because his accent isn’t the best after palling around with lads from Boherbue.
The big day is approaching and I’m on my nerve worrying about a frock because my future sister-in-law and her friends will be all style and I don’t want them saying ‘what is Rosealeen from Ballydesmond wearing?’, with their fecking doctored lips.
So like, I used to love watching Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, where the gay lads would sort out some clown called Brad who liked baseball caps. Do you think there is a service like that, to show bogwomen how to dress swanky like a city girl?
Guten Tag. I have been living in Ireland now for just over a year and have lots of nice friends at my work place, even though it is a bit annoying when they make we wear a baseball cap and pretend to be Jurgen Klopp.
I have my eye on a girl at work, Ciara, she is from Kerry where I am told the people are very over-sexed and this is quite exciting for me. I am a shy character so when I invited her for a barbecue in my place this weekend, I also invited a few other people in case she thought, ‘oh no, Jurgen will be all over me with his busy hands.’
The problem is every single person I invited has said ‘hopefully’, or ‘might see you there’ or ‘it depends’, even though I promised to do my best Jurgen Klopp, freaking out at the ref because he gave off-side against Mo Salah. What is wrong with Irish people that they can’t give a straight yes to an invitation, is it because they are waiting to get a better offer from somebody else?
Hello old stock. Myself and Hoggy are off to Italy next week, it will be great going to a country where you can compliment a gorgeous woman in public without some snowflake saying ‘Jesus, would you look at Piers Morgan.’
I found the hotel by looking for a place that doesn’t show GAA matches, no better way to make sure you don’t bump into some knuckle-dragger from Glounthaune . It occurred to me that we need a similar booking system for town at the weekend, where I can basically book an entire street so I don’t have to be looking at catering students from Clonmel as I’m tucking into my oysters.
Can you get on to City Hall there and make it happen?