A Girl's Night Out

Great shows last week kid.
Great shows which drew a grudging, "Let's not get too excited. We'll see how it goes" from Tom Elliott when I asked him if he would attend my funeral.
Michael McGimpsey is going. I hope the King of comedy doesn't ruin my funeral with merry japes and frivolous tom-foolery. Steven Nolan will be there, to make the crowd look bigger than it is.
Tommy my cat came in, threw me a dead mouse and said, "Her at number 27 with the curlers and the elastic stocking wants to know if you're up for a girls' night out."
"A girls' night out?" I echoed. "What night club in its right mind would let me and that old rat bag in? Both of us are, BR, (botox resistant) and our chronic incontinence is the talk of corner boy innuendo and every fashionable, social gathering."
"Alas that is true," said Tommy. "I have heard you refered to as, "Old Drippy" at a cocktail party in Stormount."
"That was Margaret Ritchie, head wrangler at the SDLP!" I yelled. "Margaret promised to bring women up to the same level of stupidity as men and yet she calls me, "Old Drippy" in the company of respectable gentlemen AND Sammy Wilson! MAGGIE, MAGGIE, MAGGIE! OUT! OUT! OUT!" I screamed.
Tommy picked me up, put me under his arm and said,
"It's time you had your nappy changed Drippy."
"Your teeth are like tombstones in an abandoned graveyard," said Giles Guano my former Gestapo dentist. "What in the name of the Dehaunt principes have you been eating?"
I hitched my hessian dress up a few inches to increase my chances of being interfered with and said,
"Since I gave up smoking I have been sucking on a WW2 hand gerenade to ease the tobacco craving."
"A hand grenade?" roared Herr Guano, like it was something unusual. Come on, we've all done it!
"What would have happened if the pin came out?" he said.
I simpered up at Giles from my recumbant position and coyly replied,
If the pin came out, my drawers would have fallen round my ankles. With a merry flick of my toe I would have flipped them into the gutter and walked on with a merry, devil-may-care attitude singing, "I got the bare arse blues from my head to my shoes. .The pin done come undone and my knickers I did lose.
Play that slide guitar Bosco. Bring it on home Willie John.
Oh yeh. Take me on home! Take me on home for grits, gumbo and black-eyed peas."
Yours Respectfully,
Old Drippy