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IF YOU see an a woman reading a paperback, gawping and muttering "Holy God tonight!" - that will be me, reading Quentin Fottrell's Love in a Damp Climate.
Ray D'Arcy Show agony uncle Fottrell's advice is sometimes sensible, sometimes, well...
To a woman hurt by discovering her husband's online porn, he writes: "No doubt there are some husbands out there who don't surf the Net, looking for porn. While they do exist, I don't believe they're exactly thriving as a breed."
Gawp.
He tells the story of Emily, whose last text from one beau, on Hallowe'en, said: "Be careful if you go out tonight, because the pretty girls always get murdered first."
Nothing daunted, she was standing outside Kehoe's when she heard a good-looker saying "I'll go and try my chances with that blonde."
"Good luck," she said as he passed, and he went into courting mode. He brought her home to the farm - where she spent her time eating broccoli and celery and competing with the heifers for his attentions.
After a night of would-be passion, Catherine opened her bald swain's medicine cabinet and cruelly drew a '!' on his bottle of Rogaine hair restorer.
Gay Michael "never thought of boys romantically. Except for one guy at school who I fooled around with from 14 to 17..."
Stefano left Helen because he was being conscripted by the Italian Army. She ran into him again three weeks later in Whelan's - and he tried to get off with her.
Holy God tonight.
1 comment:
I am a woman (27) and I found it, God forbid, life-affirming!!! Harry, the widower; Biddy and her husband Barney, the handsomest man in Donegal; the couple who met again after 50 years and fell in love; the woman from Derry who met the "superhero" from Texas online; the ballroom dancers in Carlow; and I liked Anna and the guy who turned out to be a transvestite. That could have been a lot worse!
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