Monday 30 June 2008

MY CAT IS IN DENIAL--BUT HOW DID HE GET TO EGYPT?

I was lying like a tramp on the floor with a real bee-hive on my head. I was vomiting, cursing and yelling, "Don't mess with the diva!" I was pretending to be Amy Winehouse on one of her better days, or Amy Sxxxhouse as she should be known. I kicked my scrawny, legs, picked my pimples until they bled and roared, "I just want to be alone, do you hear me? I just want to be alone with my alcohol, heroin, cocaine, cannibas, cigarettes and cremola foam!"
"Don't look at me!" I shrieked, to the empty house. "You don't know me, so don't judge me. I'm never going to change, NEVER, do you hear me? I WON'T go to the Betty Ford clinic!" I screamed. "You have to make a car before they let you out. LEAVE ME ALONE!" I shrieked, as I rolled in my own puke, kicking and flinging like a Tasmanian devil on red bull.
Suddenly, I heard the front door close. I jumped to my feet which I always have near me and sallied forth to see who or what had entered my abode by the use of the portal, known as-the door. It was Tommy my cat. Tommy took off his flat cap and hung it up behind the door. No trial or anything--he just hung it. "Ah Tommy!" I yelled, "Kay-me-a-fault-yah, you're as welcome as the flowers in May, so you are, come on in and pull up an antique bean-bag and tell me how you got on at Alcoholics Anonymous".
Tommy pulled off his wet German leder-hosen and said, "I'm not going back".
"Why ever not?" I asked "and you getting along so well. Since you began going to
Alcoholics Anonymous, you haven't had one drink".
"That's because I don't drink!" yelled Tommy. "I feel a fraud, sitting in a circle saying "My name is-Tommy and I am an-alcoholic. It's not right. I shouldn't be sitting there, listening to their stories and eating their biscuits. Its not right!" yelled Tommy "I am not now, nor ever have been-an alcoholic!" "But you may be in the future," I yelled. "So why leave seeking help until the last minute?" "Do you think so?" said Tommy, watching the steam rise from his gutteral, German leder-hosen. "Yes I do!" I shouted. "Which is why I have enrolled you in Gamblers Anonymous next Monday and a very select group called Anonymous-Anonymous on Friday night".
I made sure all the doors and windows were locked, then Tommy and I went outside for a good night's sleep in the flower bed. "That yellow pansey hogged all the bed clothes last night." grumbled Tommy "If it does it tonight, I will pull off its pistil".
"Oh Matron." I giggled, as I snuggled in beside the hollyhock.
Next morning I got up at the crack of dawn. That Dawn McGinty gets the whole of Belfast up with her chronic flatulence. The poor girl needs help.I must go round there tonight and take her to Farters Anonymous, which is held in a well ventilated garden shed on the Malone Road.
You would be surprised at who attends, doctors, solicitors, judges, high court sheriffs and high class ladies with double-barrel names, like Shotgun Nellie, all leaping to their feet and yelling, "My name is Algernon and I am a-farter!"
I clung on to the leg of Steven Nolan's massive trousers. As the Lard Man dragged me down the Donegall Road I yelled, "Please Steven, just one peep, just one peep up the leg of your trousers?" "NO!" yelled Tubby "The only people who will see up my trousers are Hello or OK magazine."
"Give me a preview!" I screamed. "Give me a preview of the wonders that will soon be seen and drooled over by all and sundry." "All and Sundry are a firm of solicitors!" yelled Tubby.
"They represented me when I was falsely charged with eating a waitress at McDonalds".
"Damn you Steven Nolan!" I screamed "There was a time you would have paid people like me to look up the leg of your trousers, but now, I'm not good enough. Now, only the rich and famous can see what is hinted at in the book of Revelations"
"Push off!" yelled Tubby, "look up the leg of your own trousers."
"What do you think I am?" I shrieked "a-a contortionist?"
"Keep your voice down." hissed Tubby. I jumped back but I still got my shoes wet.
"Keep your voice down. Don't go bringing religion into it. Let's go down behind the wheelie-bins, but its just one quick peep-right?"
Lordy, lordy, lordy, brothers and sisters. Oh the wonders I have seen. My eyes have been opened to the glory of the Lord. Today I stand here and I am not afraid. I may not get there with you, because I may be going another way. I have stood on the mountain brothers and sisters and I had a dream. I forsee a day when ALL men and women, black, white and yellow will line up beside the wheelie-bins and peep up the leg of Steven Nolan's massive trousers. I have a dream, yeh man, I have a--dream.
Now, knock hell out of that old tamborine and sing, "When the saints go marching in"
(This not quite your cup of tea? why not go to....
www. rosie-ryan.blogspot. com ) Rosie makes exceedingly good tay.

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