THROW ANOTHER FAGGOT ON THE FIRE FANNY

As Dawn broke wind, sunlight streamed through the broken window of our house. Tommy my cat and I built a dam with sandbags but we couldn't keep it out. Soon my living room was up to the oxters in-sunlight. I stood with hands on hips and said, "Well, this is a right howdy-do."
Howdy-do to you too," said Tommy, surveying the damage. "How are we going to get this sunlight out of the house?" "Grab some brooms" I yelled "and sweep the sunlight out to the street!" "Good idea!" cried Tommy, grabbing a broom in his feline paws and sweeping furiously.
"It's no good," gasped Tommy, "the more I sweep the sunlight out, the more it streams back in again.""Shut up and keep sweeping," I yelled, "before the sunlight ruins my one piece suite and damages my daddy's nick-nacks!" "Those nick-nacks should be in the coffin along with your dead daddy," cried Tommy. "What kind of monster are you, to send a man to meet his maker nick-nackless?" "He was my daddy," I yelled, "not your daddy. When my alive daddy died, I was heartbroken. I wanted something to remind me of dear daddy, so I took his nick-nacks."
"Could you not have cut off his tie instead?" roared Tommy, up to the waist in sunlight.
"My daddy loved that tie!" I yelled "It was the regimental tie of the Irish Guards and my late daddy would have joined the guards if his height and his IQ had been bigger."
"It's no good!" cried Tommy "The sunlight is streaming in. It's a deluge, a deluge of sunlight. Why did Frank Mitchell not warn people about a flood of sunlight on TV last night?"
"Frank Mitchell, my aunt Fanny!" I screamed, "Frank Mitchell was too busy trying to convince people that wet bag was Coleraine on the 'Name That Town' teaser last night." "I saw that," said Tommy. "Frank certainly fooled me. I thought wet bag was-Cullybaccy. Even the dogs in the street know that cully is Arabic for-wet and Baccy is Ulster/Mongolian for-BAG." "Shut up Tommy!" I screamed, as I grabbed a signed photograph of Steven Nolan before it was washed away by the sunlight. "It's hopeless," I yelled, "the sunlight is half way up the stairs now! There's only one thing to do." Tommy gasped and said, "You don't mean?..."
"YES!" I cried, "It's time to send for super hero--JIM RODGERS. Then Tommy and I sang the Jim Rodger's song, which goes after this fashion. Ah one, ah two, an three, ah four.....
WHEN YOU ARE IN TROUBLE
DON'T WASTE YOUR TIME ON BODGERS
IF YOU NEED A SUPER HERO
SEND FOR--JIM RODGERS.
Jim Rodgers arrived on a bicycle, ringing the bell, his purple cape fluttering behind him.
"NIGH-NIGH-NIGH!" screamed Jim. "What seems to be the trouble here?"
"Oh Jim," I screeched, "thank goodness you're here! My house is flooded by pesky-sunlight."
"Stand back," screamed Jim "this is a job for super hero--JIM RODGERS!"
Tommy and I clapped, cheered and broke once more into the Jim Rodger's theme tune.
WHEN YOU ARE IN TROUBLE
DON'T WASTE YOUR TIME ON BODGERS
IF YOU NEED A SUPER HERO
SEND FOR--JIM RODGERS.
Thinking nothing of his own safety, Jim Rodgers, super hero ran into the sunlit house and banished the sunlight by--pulling the curtains.
"MY HERO!" I cried as Jim rode off on his bicycle screaming, "NIGH-NIGH-NIGH!"
Tommy began to sing, "IF YOU FIND YOUR SELF IN TROUBLE." I took the cuff off my sleeve and let Tommy have it round the ear. Tommy and I clasped hands, danced the Mason's Apron to the sound of a stone sliding down a corrugated tin roof and then skipped-gaily into our sunless abode. But for months after, I kept finding little bits of sunlight stuck down the back of the sofa. I cupped them carefully in my hands, ran to the door and threw them up into the sunlit sky. "Fly my little one!" I yelled. " Fly to the shinning orb up in the sky, that is made up from 72% hydrogen, 28% helium and just a little, teeny-weenie smidgen of carbon."a
Later that night, or was it tomorrow night? Tommy my cat looked on with disapproval as I went to bed with cocoa. "I don't care, I don't care what people think, let them talk. Sure Coco is a clown but when he takes off his big shoes and baggy trousers, he knows how to make a girl happy--and he makes me laugh. And do all women, not put at the top of their list for the ideal man--a good sense of humour? So ladies, if you want a man who makes you laugh, go out and grab a-clown. You will find lots of clowns in the circus--and up at Stormont.
Rosie Ryan is looking for you, you will find her waiting at...
www.rosie-ryan.blogspot,com and if you want to buy her book, go to...
jpmcmenamin@gmail.com