Petrol Cans and Natural Gas

Five great shows last week Kid, which have greatly enhanced my knowledge about the meaning of life.

"Why are we here?" People ask in Ballymena.

"Why did we not go to Co Tyrone, where 99% of the people are now down from the trees?

Barry McElduff will try and entice the remaining 1% down on Sunday, with balloons, funny hats and Go-Go dancers."

Tommy my cat peered out of a large hole he had dug behind the sofa and yelled, "I wonder what surprises lie before us in the great shows that Gerry will put on this week?"

"Who knows," I said, "And who ain't talking.

"But I have a feeling that the petrol can man is booked for another appearance."

"HOORAY!" yelled Tommy. "I love the petrol can man and his indefatigable quest for rare petrol cans. Men like that, make Ulster, what it is. It was men like the petrol can man, that built the Giant's Causeway, constructed the Titanic and placed Ballymena far away from the rest of civilization. Oh, by the by, I think I have struck a pocket of natural gas in this hole I am digging."

"Natural gas my ass," I yelled. "You would have to dig much further that that, to strike natural gas. Light a match to see what happens."

Later, as we both lay in intensive care, Tommy glared at me and croaked, "I told you so."

But Time is the great healer and after the doctor gave me and Tommy a prescription for Micky Mouse watches we were, in the words of Willie Nelson, "On The Road Again."

Tubby Nolan rose out of a rubbish skip like a plump phoenix and yelled, "No wonder there is so much hunger in the world. People are throwing away half eaten TV dinners!"

"Come out of there Tubster," I scolded. "What would the Sunday World say if they found you in a bin scavenging for food?"

"Print and be damned!" yelled Tubby. "I don't care anymore. I'm fed up being the nice guy. I want to be a bad boy, a hell raiser like Peter O'Toole, Richard Harris and Ronnie Corbet."

"Hell raising is just not in you Steven," I said. "You are and will always be, the Peter Kay of Ulster, a fat, roly-poly who brings joy to both young and old alike."

"I have a plan," said Steven. "I want you to photograph me, with a bottle of stout in my hand, knocking seven bells out of Frank Mitchell. I can see the headline now, "HELL RAISER CLOBBERS RAIN MAN."

"Bad idea Fat Man," I said. "What if Frank Mitchell got up and beat the lard out of YOU? Think of the headline then, "TUBBY TROUNCED BY NON DRINKING, NON SMOKING VEGETARIAN."

"Bummer!" growled Tubby, as he took a huge gulp of air and disappeared into the rubbish skip.

All this and more have I seen, as Frank Mitchell counted down the ten best places in Ulster to buy red flannel drawers. I had a feeling that Clougher would come out on top!

Call it woman's institution. No, that's Holloway. No, that's not right, just call it a guess!