MY DADDY IS THE BEST DADDY THAT EVER SAT IN A SHED

I'm sure that I don't have to tell you-or you, yes, you sir sitting in the corner, unpicking your string vest to make a butterfly net, I'm sure I don't have to tell you, that yesterday was 'hang by the heels from the ceiling day.' This practice came into being in the late 50's. It was pioneered by the late, great John O'Groats who lived at 23 The Marsh, Land's End.
John O'Groats was a remarkable man, a hermit, a recluse and also a radio talkshow host on Land's End radio. He was a small man with a ginger moustache--or was he a ginger man with a small moustache? Never mind, he was noted for his catch phrase on the radio. People used to split their sides when John said, "Mother, I'll be home soon, put on chip pan, if you have no spuds, open a can of soup and if you have no soup, boil an egg instead"
Soon the whole country was saying it, a taximan would roll down his window and shout out to a policeman, "Mother, I'll be home soon, put on chip pan, if you have no spuds, open a can of soup and if you have no soup, boil an egg instead"
Then the taximan and the policeman would kill themselves laughing, as a massive traffic jam built up behind them. Oh, happy days and you could get drunk for a penny.
But John O'Groats was no ordinary man, he was a spiritual man, a new age man, a man well versed in Eastern religion and all that jazz. It was then that John O'Groats came out with the mantra, that Tommy my cat and I still follow to the present day. One day John announced to a startled world, this golden piece of advice.
"Hang by the heels, to ward off eels". Yes, it was as simple as that, it changed the relationship between mankind and eels for ever. No more did people huddle in darked cottages fearing an onslaught of eels. Now mankind and indeed, womankind, had a simple way to deter the slimy, obnoxious, slither of rivers and brooks.When threatened by a slithering mass of unruly eels, people would rush home and hang by their heels from the ceiling and the eels would retreat in confusion, cursing the man called, John O'Groats.
Alas, poor John O'Groats died tragically, when a tea cannister fell on his head, as he reached up to make a cup of tea. His last, sad, gasping words were, "Hang by the heels, to ward off eels".
A fitting epilogus(L) for a man who did so much to remove the fear of the common or garden-eel. Tommy my cat and I have been following the advice of John O'Groats for many years and-touch wood, neither of us has been attacked by an eel, neither physically or indeed, verbally.
Needless to say, yesterday Tommy and I were to be found, hanging from the ceiling by the heels. As we swayed in the breeze, we mumbled fervently, "Hang by the heels, to ward off eels".
As Tommy swayed rhythmically,like a sticky fly-paper or a well hung man he glanced at me and said. "You never talk about your dear pappa, why so old girl?"
I stiffled a sob by holding a pillow over its face and blubbered, "Ah Pappa, dear, dear Pappa, let me take you back to my childhood. Dear mummy and pappa had drifted apart. They had nothing in common, apart from being common. For over 30 years, dear mummy had been involved in a life or death struggle with a rare, grey backed ape that she picked up at the women's institute.
We offered to help her in her fight with the wily primate but dear mummy said.
"No, it's my problem. I don't need any help, I can cope with this critter by myself" Then she and the ape rolled under the kitchen table, biting, scratching, and kicking and flinging.
Dear Pappa had no hobbies, he spent all his time looking out of the window, with drool running down his chin, babbling "Nothing works--anymore".
At Christmas, me and my 16 siblings bought dear pappa a leather bound, limited edition book called, "Great garden sheds of the world" by Thickus Aplank.
It changed dear Poppa's life, he rushed out and bought a garden shed, oh he was so happy, he would sit in the shed for hours, smoking his pipe and thinking about-sheds.
Then the Winter came and dear Pappa said "Oh, my little shed is getting wet, what can I do? I know I will buy a bigger shed and keep the wee shed in it" and he did. But then he became concerned about the second shed, so he bought a third shed to put that in and so on and so forth In two years time, dear Poppa had 34 sheds, all inside each other and he kept all 34 sheds in a big warehouse. I can see him going to his little shed, with 35 large keys hanging from his belt. It took him over an hour to unlock all the sheds before he could enter his first little shed.
Then one horrible night, when smoking his pipe and thinking about-sheds, a spark fell on an ear-wig and started a fire. In no time it was out of control. Dear pappa, ran for safety, unlocking sheds as he went,--he never made it, he was found in shed 27 with the key of 28 in his out-stretched hand. It was horrible, horrible I tell you, and dear mummy couldn't cope, she was still involved in her life and death struggle with the boisterous,rumbustious ape. It was horrible, horrible I tell you" Tommy swung by the heels with tears in his eyes and said "What did the death certificate say?" I swung madly from the ceiling and yelled, "It said, cause of death-Gutted". The sun set in the West and Tommy and I just swung in the breeze, woman and cat, hanging from the ceiling by their heels muttering, "Hang by the heels, to ward off-eels".