Ulster Scots and Oxymorons

Great show on Friday Kid. After the great show Tommy my cat and I climbed out of our tattered kilts and inflatable sporrans. I kicked a haggis that was showing signs of life out the window and said to Tommy,
"Hoots tay you, the noo. Did Gerry's Ulster/Scots guest coulter yer grommet an' curdle your wheest?"
Tommy shot the haggis that was climbing back in the window again, with a flint lock pistol and replied,
"Ulster/Scots is like short bread. I find a little nibble goes a long way."
I felt for a soft spot on the wall, ran at it with my head and said,
"As doctor McCoy on the star ship Enterprise used to say to Captain Kirk,
"It's language Jim, but not as we know it."
Tommy laughed and said,
"Remember Scotty, the Scottish engineer on the star ship Enterprise? Captain Kirk would say,
"Increase speed Scotty. Go to maximum power."
And wee Scotty would always cry,
"She canny take it Captain. She's gonna BLOW!"
Yet she never did blow," laughed Tommy. "Leading me to believe that Scotty knew as much about space ship engines, as Sir Reg Empry knows about Conservative pacts."
"Poor wee Reg," I said. "What's going to become of him?. To beg he is too proud. To dig he has no spade. Will the golden locked Knight of the realm, be reduced to wandering the streets like the Ancient Mariner?"
Tommy settled back in his leather armchair, crossed his legs, clasped his fingers and said,
"IT IS AN ANCIENT MARINER
AND HE STOPPETH ONE OF THREE
HE HAD A LONG GREY BEARD AND GLISTENING EYE
THERE WAS A PACT, QUOTH HE."
"King Tut-King Tut," I sighed. "There but for the grace of God..."
As our condemned hovel sang deeper into the shifting sands underneath, I passed the time by drawing match-stick men on the wall with a red crayon. Tommy was busy doing the Times crossword puzzle. My parents didn't believe in high faluting book learning but I went to school. I went until I was 28, but only for the corporal punishment. Once I was placed over the headmaster's knee and thrashed to within an inch of my life I was out of there. It was a different time, a less tolerant time. The only place you could get well spanked was at school. Now, every leisure centre and credit union has a spanking parlour and we have David Ford to thank for that. Suddenly Tommy said,
"I know this is what American footballers call a Hail Mary, but I can't find the answer to one question. The answer has three words and the clue is-OXYMORON."
"Tommy," I chided.
"The answer is in the question. OXYMORON--Ox and moron. The answer is, Silly old moo."
Tommy put me over his knee and caned me for two long glorious hours and he refused to take the five pound note I pressed gratefully into his hand.
What a cat! And he's mine! ALL MINE!