What a great show yesterday Kid. It was the best of times and the worst of times, as Mr Coyle chronicled the tale of the two Rip Coyles. How odd that Mr Coyle, who is Mr Law and Order has a brother who is a son of a gun. "Bang, Bang, he shot Rip dead! Bang, Bang, he shot Rip in the head!"
Just before the news. Mr Coyle made the oddest of comments.
"Did I every tell you," said Mr Coyle,
"about the time I hit myself on the head with an axe?"
With stories like that. Mr Coyle must be a WOW on the Shantallow cocktail circuit!
"Hit himself with an axe on the head?" said Tommy my cat. "What was he trying to do? Take a chip from the old block?"
"Careful with that axe Eugene," I chortled as Tommy and I enjoyed a rare, Pink Floyd moment.
Suddenly, the mood changed.
"Thomas, attend me," I said. "We stand not only at the brink of a new year but a new decade. We must take ourselves in hand, make changes, turn over new leaves, make a new start. The first thing we must do is cleanse all the toxins from our body with a good detoxing."
I grabbed Tommy by the neck, as recommended in the American Army field manual and poured ten gallons of water down his throat. Then Tommy did the same to me. Tommy and I sat in adjacent toilets as the toxins were flushed from our body at a rate of two gallons every half an hour. Communication could only be achieved by shouting very loudly. I got blisters on my hand from pulling the chain!
Fully detoxed, Tommy and I donned two Arctic white dressing gowns and sat down to plan our new life in the year 2010.
Tommy admired his Cadillac pink toe nails and said, "Next year I plan to learn five new languages, Irish, English, Ulster/Scots
Scots/Ulster and Mandarin. When I master Mandarin, I can then order oranges from China."
"Good thinking Top Cat," I said. "Anything else?"
"Yes," said Tommy. "I plan to delve into painting and architecture."
"But Tommy," I said,
"painting and architecture were the hobbies of Hitler and he turned out to be, well, let's just say, not very nice."
Little Tommy turned purple with anger. His right arm leaped up in the air and he screamed.
"In zee dark of zee night, will come zee third Reich and on that night, zee third Reich will be zee right Reich!"
Tommy glared at me and yelled, "Always be remembering xat, you old Germanic rat bag!"
In a bid to ease the tension, I played Leonard Cohen singing, The Sisters of Mercy and Tommy and I jived like there was no tomorrow.
"Next year," I yelled, "I plan to find out who I am. I have no idea who I am or where I come from, so next year I plan to look up my family tree."
Tommy sniggered and said, "You won't have to look too far up the tree, before you see a red arsed baboon looking down."
"How dare you!" I yelled. "You know I have blue royal blood in my veins. Have you not seen me playing polo?"
"I have seen you playing tiddly-winks on the kitchen table with little white sweets," roared Tommy, "but it's hardly polo is it?"
"It's a start!" I yelled.
"I glared at Tommy and cried, "You Sir, are a tube."
Tommy glared back and yelled, "And you are a repulsive thing that should be kept under the bed!"
Then the bells began to ring. It was the new year, the new decade.
I looked at Tommy with tears in my eyes. Tommy looked at me with a trembling lip. Then, we leaped on each other and battered our respective faces into a pulp.
It may be the New Year, but at our hovel, it was business as usual!
So remember folks, don't make promises you can't keep.
Happy New Year everybody from Tommy and myself.
Has anyone seen my mangle? I say, has anyone seen my mangle?
(Sorry, just trying out a new catch phrase).
No comments:
Post a Comment