SEAN'S SHORTS

Great show yesterday Kid. Full of wit and humour that Norman Wisdom or Jimmy Carr could only aspire to. "Tommy," I said to my cat. "Did my eyes deceive me, or did Sean Coyle say that he did not have any trousers on yesterday?" "That's what the man said!" said Tommy. "Do you mean to tell me," I said "that Mr Coyle was sitting among the girls, wearing his-knickers?" "That's the word on the street," said Tommy. "That's what he gets for going on foreign holidays!" I yelled. "The lad has gone native. Coyle has gone all-Latin. He'll be growing a wee Errol Flynn moustache next, just you wait and see." Tommy launched a long range missile towards North Korea and said, "I thought appearing in his knickers would be against Mr Coyle's strict Catholic upbringing. Does it not say in Leviticus, "Woe to he who throws off his strides and cavorts in public places, wearing only a smile and a pair of knickers?" "Of course it does!" I cried. "It's an-abomination! That's what it is, an abomination and for two pins I would jump on my bike and go tell Iris Robinson." Tommy sniggered and said, "I wonder what colour Mr Coyle's knickers are?" "I don't know," I replied, "But I'm sure at one time, they were white."

Tommy went to the window to see if there was any reply from North Korea and said, "Gerry has a lot to put up with. Did you hear the woman who came on and blamed Gerry because she found out that Tom Jones was 69 years old?" "I did," I said. "That's what you get for sitting in a darkened room, surrounded by cats, playing Delilah over and over again. You lose touch with reality." Oh, that reminds me," said Tommy, pulling out his mobile phone and punching in a number. "Hello, Hello, could I speak to Mr Mark Durkin please?-Thank you. Yes Mark, yes Mark, I understand Mark." Tommy snapped shut his mobile phone and said, "You will be glad to know that the reality still-is." "Thank goodness!" I cried. "I was afraid that the warm weather and the drop in the pound might make the reality-it! or horror of horrors--dumplings!" "Heaven preserve us!" said Tommy. "No, Mark Durkin assures me that the reality still-is and will remain-is as long as he is leader of the SDLP.""Who are the-SDLP?" I asked. "I'm not quite sure," said Tommy. "I think it stands for "Sausage Dinners Lead to Plumpness." "Of course," I cried, slapping a thigh that just happened to be passing. "I remember the SDLP, Their leader was Gerry Fitt. It was he who brought the simmet back from obscurity to the height of fashion.". "Lynda Byrons wears a simmet," said Tommy. "And Donna Trainor, but they don't call it a simmet, they call it a-wee top." "The intellectual ostentatiousness of our leading female newscasters make countless thousands weep," I said. "I've been saying that for years," said Tommy, "but the only one who listened to me was Micky Bradley!"

All this and more have I seen from a dark nook in Ann Summers, as Sean Coyle sneaks in and whispers, "A pair of knickers in lime green please, with plenty of room round the fork."

Oh, the rascal! Did that saintly man Leviticus die in vain???