Move On

Great shows last week kid.
Great shows which tackled head on the last great mystery of life. Why is Daniel O'Donnell still releasing CDs?
I looked at Tommy my cat as he sat down to breakfast wearing an imperial purple toga which barely covered his furry bum.
"Tommy," I gushed, "did you see the wedding dress? It was........."
"SILENCE!!!" roared Tommy. "The day of which you speak is over! KAPUT! In the past! We must move on. Let it GO! In the name of all that's roly-poly let it go!
We talked about that 'Thing' for weeks.The planets revolve and the Universe creaks. Why would you speak of some small,incremental,incident in the past which has as much relevance to our life as a bull frog farting in a zinc bucket?"
"Tommy," I said, "your poetic bent is getting more bent each day. Why,in time,you may share a podium with none other than Seamus Heaney."
Tommy sneered and replied coldly,
"I fear I have little in common with the bogman from Stroke City.
Seamus Heaney is a proser, and a poser
And he gets right up my noser."
"Give that cat a Nobel prize!" I yelled, as I chased two kippers,who appeared to have still some life left in them, round the kitchen. I must make a fierce complaint to Phoenix gas.
"Tubby Nolan," said Tommy, taking a sip of finely blended Kesh coffee, "made a right fool of himself at the Belfast marathon. There he was, on the starting line, before the race began, down on the broad of his back surrounded by medics, oxygen bottles, heart defibrillators and undertakers."
"Was the lad nobbled?" I shrieked. "Were his nobblers interfered with? Did Gerry Anderson put a Micky Finn in the lad's liquid lard?"
"All I know," said Tommy. "is the oval one told the doctor he was feeling fine, but suddenly he came over all fat."
"Where is he?" I screamed. "Take me to him. I should be by his side, emptying his brow and mopping his bedpan."
"I don't know where he is," said Tommy. "They took him away on the back of a low-loader with a police escort."
"Phone all the hospitals!" I yelled. "Ask them if a fat boy is lying on four trolleys in the corridor."
Silly me, he was at home eating his way through a mountain of crisps.
The only way to get any momentum out of Tubby Nolan is to roll him down a steep hill!
ATTENTION ALL GARDENERS! PHONE TUBBY NOLAN TODAY AND HE WILL COME ROUND AND ROLL YOUR LAWN!