EXCITING RESULTS

Great show yesterday kid. A great show, blamed erroneously as it turned out for the sun spot that shrivelled up the dirty, grey, long johns of Smoking Joe Frazier look-a-like, Hector Wonk from Desertmartin. As the official inquiry later revealed, the shrivelling of the drawers occurred when Hector's wife Dipsy got her Daz washing powder mixed up with highgrade, enriched plutonium. A simple mistake that could happen to anyone.
Tommy my cat appeared at the door wearing a crimson,red,silk dressing gown and matching cravat. He yawned-languidly and said in a world weary tone,
"Where is the excitement in my life?
Every day is the same old boring routine.
I get up, I look at you, boke and sit on the couch like a potato.
Where is my Mount Everest?" screamed Tommy.
"Where is my Gobi desert? My mission impossible?"
"Shut up Tennessee Williams," I said. "If you want a challenge go and find the East pole or the West pole. Even C list celebrities are dandering to the North and South pole, but the West and East pole have still to be discovered."
Tommy leaped to his feet and yelled,
"Huskies! I will require huskies!"
"Jordie Tuft will provide all your husky needs," I said. "He will also teach you how to live off the land and drink your own urine."
"DRINK MY OWN URINE?" yelled Tommy. "That's disgusting! I have no trouble drinking other people's urine, but I draw the line at drinking my own urine!"
"THEN SIT DOWN!" I yelled. "You will never amount to anything if you are not prepared to drink your own urine. All the great explorers drank their own urine."
Tommy and I sat there, listening to the comforting tick-tock of the spiked, world war two mine behind the sofa.
Tommy coughed softly and said,
"Would you mind turning on Jeremy Kyle. It's time for the DNA results."
"That fat, ugly slapper is a liar!" I yelled. "That poor, bald, tattooed yob is not the father of her sprog."
"Yes he is!" yelled Tommy.
"Is not!" I roared.
"Is!" yelled Tommy.
"Is not!" I roared.
Then the smarmy Jeremy Kyle appeared to put us out of our misery.
Apparently the yob was not the father of the unwanted sprog, but the yob's daddy was!!!
You couldn't make it up. I tried and failed.
WHO IS "YOUR" DADDY???