Scowls and Stares

Great show yesterday kid
A great show which stood out as an oasis of peace and serenity after the turbulent, bombastic, bellowing of Steven Nolan.
Tommy my cat pulled up his little white ankle socks and said, "We really must get Tubby a woman. Nothing cures a man with a big gub like a slap up the kisser from his beloved."
"You're right Tommy," I said,"and when you're right, you're not wrong. I have seen men,seven, eight,TEN foot tall,turn into wee,timmering beasties at the scowl on the face of their small,petite,dumpy wife."
"That scowl," said Tommy,"is called the withering stare. I have known women who could kill a rose bush from twenty yards just by scowling at it."
"Stop twittering!" I yelled. "Stick to the agenda. What are we going to do with Tubby Nolan?"
Tommy put on a polka dot thinking cap and said, "Let's put an add in the Belfast Telegraph!"
"Fat man with his own spoon seeks right,little belter.Must be curry tolerant and at least half human. NO inflatable women need apply!"
"Very good," I said,"but that last caveat will rule out 71% of the demographic."
So be it," said Tommy. "So let it be written, so let it be done!"
Tommy went to the clothes line, removed an item, put it to his nose and said,
"AH! I love the smell of a nappy first thing in the morning."
"APOCALYPSE NIGH!" I yelled.
OH how we laughed!
A thunderous knocking at the door interrupted our game of scramble.
Tommy and I got off our off-road motorcycles and opened the door.
A very flustered Donna Trainor stood there wringing her hands in a small portable mangle.
"Oh woman and cat," she cried,"woe is me. It is my turn to make the Irish stew for the Newsline crew. Could you please loan me a scrag end of mutton, a large turnip, three carrots, two onions, half a stone of spuds, a pinch of salt and pepper and the instructions on how to make Irish stew."
Tommy and I loaded little Donna up and sent her on her way.
We had just got back on our scramblers again when there was another loud knock on the door. This time it was the pride of UTV, Paul Clarke.
Paul smiled and said,
"It is my turn to make the Shepherds pie at UTV Live today. I wondered if you could possible loan me........."
Tommy slammed the door in his face and yelled,
"LET THEM EAT CAKE!" as he got back on his little motorcycle.
I mean, who would be next, Al-Jazera?