Liberated from our clothes

What great shows you put on last week Kid. When your great shows were on people forgot about the cold, the recession and any sensational stories that might be running on 24 hour news. I am not aware of any sensational news stories last week, but I was very busy. I spent the whole week under the sink with a torch looking for leaks. But come Friday, which is soup day in our house, I had to make a bubbling cauldron of soup devoid of leeks.
Tommy my cat went completely berserk.
"NO LEEKS?" screamed the agitated feline.
"NO LEEKS!" I yelled.
"The leek man is under the duvet suffering from a severe case of indigo incontinence!"
"It's his own fault!" yelled Tommy. "Have you seen the thin nylon trousers he goes around in? I told him. "Morris," I said, "invest in a good pair of warm woollen trousers, with a double indemnity gusset, or by the sacred primrose drawers of Reene Witherspoon, you will get a chill in your kidneys and we won't get our leeks for soup Friday.".
"And what did Morris the leek man reply?" I asked.
"He told me get stuffed!" screamed Tommy. "Me? Stuffed? I came over all wan," said Tommy.
"I staggered out to the street and fell in a prone position beside John Daly who was sitting on a warm stone heating up the cold blood in his dome by the dawn's early light. John looked at me and very slowly muttered,"This too shall pass."
"John Daly is rotten!" I yelled. "John Daly is rotten with brains!"
Tommy and I sat in silence in front of the TV for four hours. Then we turned it on and watched Gok Wan host a programme called,"How To Look Good Naked". Gok Wan, a black clad stick insect, persuaded some old wrinkly prunes to take their clothes off.
"I feel so-LIBERATED!" shrieked a woman, who looked as if an airbag had gone off in her face.
"I feel so-CONFIDENT!" cackled another, who appeared to have two saddle bags hung round her neck.
I looked at Tommy, Tommy looked at me and next morning. Tommy and I wearing trench coats, sallied off to the city hall. We placed two plastic plinths we had bought at a plastic plinth shop, threw off our trench coats, mounted the plastic plinths and struck two classical nude poses. Tommy, who was supposed to be Michelangelo's David, stood with one knee bent and both hands on his hips. I, as Venus the Goddess of love, stood on tip-toe, belly sticking out and an urn clasped under my oxter. Soon a large crowd had gathered and many and varied were the comments.
"Take that old bag home and iron her!" yelled a lady from the Malone Road.
Many comments were uttered about a species of small bird, blue being the predominant colour. The abuse I got was nothing to what poor Tommy got. Most of the comments were rude, lewd and very crude.There was a veritable chorus of, "SHUT THAT DOOR!" Quite a few gentlemen of the cloth suggested that Tommy was one of the two cats who would not eat a certain cat food.
"Scoff away!" yelled Tommy. "Today, I stand here-nude-dude and I have never felt so liberated or confident!"
Then Jim Rodgers drew up with a flurry of snow on one ski.
"NIGH! NIGH! NIGH!" screamed Jim. "If the Lord God almighty had meant us to go around without clothes, we would have been born naked. Besides," screamed Jim,
"only Sammy Wilson has a licence to drop his drawers in the vicinity of the city hall."
"What about Sir Reg Emprey?" I yelled. "Why has wee Sir Reg never been seen naked? What has he got to hide? The voters have a right to know. I demand in the name of democracy that Sir Reg come out here NIGH and drop his strides."
"Are you mad?" whispered Jim. "With the way things are going, things have never looked better for Sir Reg. Do you think Sir Reg is going to throw all that away for the pleasure of a quick flash? Let the hare sit," whispered Jim. "That's the UUP's position at the moment. Let the hare sit". I concurred with that statement, put on my trench coat and went home to watch, "NOLAN!" How was he built?. Is he aligned with the stars and why is he never seen-naked?
Even his midwife says Tubby was born wearing a baggy suit.