It’s getting angry on our WhatsApp group, Douglas Road Stunners Who Aren’t Sure If We Should Dress Like Bambie Thug.
It will come as no surprise to hear we’re throwing a Eurovision party Saturday night that will be visible from space with the lights and the incredible work we’ve had done on our teeth.
It’s Cliona Mac’s turn to host this year and she always throws a banger in fairness. It’s Eurovision so we’ll be as camp as Christmas, but not in a gay way because any hint of that and they’ll take back your parking space in the tennis club.
Our problem is Bambie Thug. Yes, they’re brilliant (we’re big into our pronouns) and a fantastic advert for creativity in Cork. But there is a reluctance to base our outfits on Bambie Thug.
I think Fifi_LookatMe summed it up best when she said, it’s a dark day on the Douglas Road when we’re getting fashion inspiration off someone from Macroom.
It’s not exactly Paris or Milan, do you know that kind of way? In fact, I’d go as far as to say it isn’t even Ballincollig and they’re still wearing skinny jeans out there on the wrong end of the Model Farm Road. So what would be an appropriate outfit?
C’mere, what’s the story with fake tan on a Norrie lad?
The newspapers are promising us 22 degrees at the weekend, although when you look at Met.ie it’s 17 degrees and drizzle, did you ever notice that?
Anyway, who needs experts, I whipped out my shorts out last night and put on a show for the old doll.
It takes a lot to make her stop playing Candy Crush on her phone, but my knobbly knees must have done the trick because she took one look at said: “Nah boy, put them away, you can’t be going around Cork looking like that, I’m nearly blinded by your white legs, did you bleach them or something?”
And back to the Candy Crush she went, leaving me decimated with shame at my alabaster legs.
I said it to Budgie and he was like, fake tan bruv, which gave me two problems.
Can I be best friends with a lad who calls me bruv? Yes, we’ve been through a lot together.
Will I have the arse slagged off me up and down the northside for wearing fake tan? That I don’t know.
All I know is that the old doll is threatening a sex strike if I put on fake tan, and she is also threatening a sex strike if I don’t, which is a bit sly. Should I go for the tan?
How’re oo’ goin’ on? The summer is nearly on us down here in West Cork and the bookings are picking up nicely for our Airbnb cottage.
It never ceases to amaze me the number of people who think that Dunmanway is in the nice part of West Cork, long may it continue as the fella says.
Anyway, didn’t we get a booking next week, Wednesday to Friday, under the name B Springsteen.
Herself nearly fainted when she say the booking, she has her finger on the pulse and told me that must be Bruce Springsteen, he’s some kind of rock God playing in Páirc Uí SuperValu on Thursday night.
Now, I’ve been pranked like this in the past. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the time we had a booking for Kenny Rogers, but it turned out it was that Bono fella, you couldn’t be listening to him.
But if this is the real Bruce Springsteen, I’ll be able to charge the locals a tenner a head to come up and take a look at him, parking not included. How can I tell if it’s the real Bruce Springsteen?
Myself and my husband Brendan love going abroad. He has a marvellous pension so it’s five-star all the way in Lanzarote.
We’re booking again Monday and I’m just dreading a repeat performance of last time, when we had to share a swimming pool with people from Blarney.
I presume they won the lottery because it’s very expensive. Do you know if there is a resort in Lanzarote that checks people’s home address before they are let into the pool?