A Literary Critique

Great show yesterday Kid. Tommy my cat turned off the radio by framing it for the Great Northern bank robbery and said,
"Eeh, a great show like that fair sets me up for the day.I feel like doing a clog dance or sticking a ferret down the front of my trousers."
"Don't stick Clarence the ferret down the front of your trousers again!" I yelled.
"You know poor Clarence suffers from claustrophobia."
"What's the point of keeping a ferret" Tommy roared, "if you can't stuff it down the front of your trousers?"
"Clarence is NOT a pet!" I yelled. "Clarence is a member of the family. People used to say that my late daddy was a right little weasel."
"I was unaware of that fact," said Tommy. "I now feel it incumbent on me to apologise to Clarence, to your late daddy, your good self and to any vermin who may be listening to the Gerry show."
In the silence that followed, the price of gold soared and the price of pig iron slumped on the Dow Jones. Tommy picked up a double barrelled shotgun and fired both barrels at a tiny fly on the wall, which turned out later to be a speck of soot.
Tommy strolled over to the window, broke a pane of glass with his elbow, took a big sniff of clean fresh air and said,
"I love this time of year. The sap is rising in the trees. You can hear the grass grow and the Spring flowers are immune to any glass ceilings that Nature may impose on them. Soon," said Tommy, "I shall be able to stretch out on top of the dust bin in the back yard. I shall soak up the sun's rays, put my leg high in the air and lick.....2
"STOP!" I yelled. "In the name of all that's holy, STALL THE WEDDING!"
"Please allow me to finish!" thundered Tommy. "I shall put my leg high in the air and lick my PAW, prior to turning the page of the book I was reading."
"And what book would you be reading Tommy?" I said. "Great Expectations by Tubby Nolan or No country for old men by Jackie Fullerton?"
"Neither," said Tommy, "This Summer I shall be reading, or rereading, for I have read it many times before, Ulysses by James Joyce. Even though I say it myself," said Tommy "I am the leading light on the works of Joyce at the Malone Road book club.".
"Is James Joyce a quare good writer Tommy?" I asked.
"Is he Tommy? Is he? Does Joycle tell a good story and rattle along at a good pace sort of thing? Does he Tommy? Does he?"
Tommy inspected his nails and replied,
"James Joyce is not for everyone. Joyce can be hard going. You need to have a good brain, like what I have to appreciate Joyce. I would not recommend Joyce to the first time reader or the buck stupid like yourself."
I sucked a thumb which someone had stuck through the broken window and said,
"A critique Tommy. Come on, give us a critique on James Joyce. Come on Tommy. No one can critique like you Tommy. Come on Tommy. Give us an auld critique on James Joyce."
Tommy smiled and replied,
"Well, as dear Oscar Wilde would have said, if he were here, and just between ourselves you understand, I sometimes find that Joyce is interested more in comma rather than content."
And Tommy went into a fit of giggling, while muttering,
"Oh dear, what a wit I am to be sure."
But I had what I wanted. I raced outside and wrote with chalk on every gamble wall I could find.
"Tommy cat says James Joyce is CRAP!"
Let's see how Tommy gets on at the Malone Road book club NIGH, when he struts in wearing a three quarter length, sheepskin coat and his Gucci gutties!.
Poor Tommy will be raced out of the Malone road, by a baying pack of
Shitzus.