A Great St. Patrick's Day

Great Saint Patrick's Day show kid and kudos to Mr Coyle for wearing the long, ragged,green gansy. Janet and Emma wore something green too,but it was discreet, very discreet.
"That crazy,mixed-up music has got me in a tizzy!" yelled Tommy my cat.
"I don't know if I should dance,sing,or yodel."
"Some early gardeners would agree with you," I said. "As they hear the strange music drift out of the kitchen window they find themselves digging with the wrong foot."
"You can do strange things with a CD," said Tommy,looking at me oddly.
I pursed my lips,wiggled my hips and replied,
"Well,try it sideways first Tommy,you'll never get a doctor to come out on Saint Patrick's Day."
"There are some people," said Tommy,"Kate Bush and Jordie Tuft being two,who believe if you play a CD backwards you can hear messages from the dead."
"Who wants to listen to Michael McGimpsey?" I cried. "Now slip into these old,ragged,torn,dirty clothes. You and I are going to the big parade as, Ireland Bankrupt and Broke but ready to Boke."
Never again! My head is killing me. Tommy looked at me with two red eyes and said,
"How did you get out of the Holy Lands last night?"
"By the heels," I groaned. "Some kind student who is studying alcohol, drugs and tobacco pulled me home by the heels."
"I saw a policeman give you a right batter," giggled Tommy.
I turned into Ronnie Flanagan and said in a dead, monotone voice,
"I have no recollection of having received any such batter."
"That old guff may have fooled Nuala O'Loane," said Tommy, "but it don't fool me!"
And the horrible feline hit me over the head with a bog oak shillelagh harvested in the bogs around Drumquin by none other that Seamus Heaney himself!
Tommy is lethal with the shillelagh. He gets his stance right,never takes his eyes from the noggin and always follows through.