Strabane Dole Office

What a great show you put on yesterday Kid. It had everything bar the kitchen sink. I was surprised Janet gave your kitchen sink away to a man from Gillygoolly on Monday. I remember saying to Tommy my cat, "Gerry is going to miss that kitchen sink." The show galloped along at a good clip, no hurdles were tossed or horses or Mr Coyle put down. I looked at Tommy my cat, who was crouched on all fours behind the door. Tommy was pretending to be a swine flu germ ready to pounce. I know one should not brag about one's pussy, but I have seen Jim Rodgers pretend to be a swine flu germ and Tommy's swine flu germ pretend, would knock Jim's swine flu pretend into a loaded and cocked hat. Jim had the crouching stance all wrong. His knees were too far apart, leading one to believe that he was NOT a swine flu germ, but a lethal viral strain of Delly-Belly!

Tommy looked at me as cats do and said, "HI! what did you think of the man coming on and telling the same Daniel O'Donnell story for THREE times in a row? Does he think that the Gerry show is a round-a-bout, on which you can jump on and off when you feel like it?" "Quiet Tommy," I whispered. "That man has his troubles, he lived in Strabane for two years." "I'm so sorry," whispered Tommy. "I had no idea. Poor man. Poor wee man, imagine, living in Strabane for-two years!" In the silence that followed, I baked a sugar cake and took it out for all the boys to see. "Hi BOYS!" I yelled. "LOOK AT MY SUGAR CAKE!" When I came back, Tommy in the guise of the swine flu bug pounced on me, but I fought him off with an antidote of earwig urine, bog water and diluted Jeyes fluid. Tommy retreated into his corner and said, "Hi! What is Strabane famous for?" "Have you ever seen Strabane dole office?" I said. "It's like one of Saddam Hussein's palaces. High vaulted ceilings, marble floors, old masters hanging on the wall." "School teachers?" asked Tommy. "No, great works of art," I said."There is a full size Olympic swimming pool, bowling alley, snookerhall, ping pong tables and for lunch you can choose from some of the greatest dishes, the French chef can provide.". "Do they have a shooting range?" asked Tommy. "No," I said. "Not in Strabane, it's too near the border."

Six trotting policeman wearing lime green spandex catsuits pulled a small trailer containing a piano and Sir Hugh Orde in front of a ragged crowd of people, which included such luminaries as, Jim Rodgers, Barney Bottle the best dressed wino in Belfast, Frank Mitchell and the man who came up with the, "ULSTER SAYS NO" slogan. Sir Hugh pressed down hard on a C chord and began to sing, "Now is the time to say-goodbye, now is the time to yield a sigh, now is the time to wield away, until we meet again some sunny day." Then Sir Hugh grabbed a Shure 55 skull-head microphone, that seemed to have been modelled on Michael McGimpsey's head and addressed the crowd. "Evening all," said Sir Hugh. "Mind how you go," answered the crowd. "People of Belfast," said Sir Hugh, "It is time to say goodbye. I shall miss you all.But the one I shall miss the most is Tommy the cat. Tommy kept me informed of what was going on in the street. Tommy the cat was my eyes and ears." There were mutters from the crowd of, "Tout" and "Tommy steak-knife." Tommy's feline face was impassive, as he looked up at Sir Hugh with a look of love and adoration in his little yellow slitted eyes. On the way home, I said, "So, that's how you were able to afford a Ferrari bicycle with a carrier and a three speed." Tommy just smiled and said "Looks like the cat is out of the bag!"

All this and more have I seen from Lynda Byron's handbag, as I programmed my number into her mobile phone. You never know! One of these nights. "Beep-Beep, hello. this is-Lynda! Would you like to join Mike and me for soft boiled eggs and toasted soldiers?" RESULT!!!!