Tommy Delivers The News Stories Gerry Might Have Missed.

Welcome back kid. Now we can face the Winter, warm and snug in the heat that radiates from great shows.
Tommy my cat, burdened down by a heavy, granite, stone slab, staggered to his Ikea, flat-pack, gold throne and gasped, "On this stone tablet I have chiseled all the news stories Gerry might have missed while on pilgrimage to India, where, rumour has it,he frolicked and wallowed like an otter in the sacred water of the river Ganges." I looked at Tommy in shock and awe, what a smart little chiseler he was!
"FIRST!" yelled Tommy. "Norn Iron-Nil, have two more defeats proudly tucked under their belt."
"Nigel Worthington must GO!" I yelled. "Make Jackie Fullerton manager. Jackie would play the old, spare man in the box, one, two and you're in formation."
"Second news story!" roared Tommy. "Margaret Richie, in spite of all her shrill denials, has-GONE!"
"YIPPEE!" cried a bug-eyed cricket from a dark, recess in the hearth.
"The big question is," roared Tommy,"Did dear Margaret jump, or was she pushed?"
"PUSHED!" I yelled. "I saw the palm prints of Patsy McGlone on the back of her brilliant, white, cashmere gansy."
"Good on ye Patsy ye boy ye," chirped the cricket.
"Third!" cried Tommy. "Steven Nolan, Christoper Biggins and Chris Moyle are to open a posh, exclusive restaurant in the West end of London called, "THE LARD BUCKET." Tommy laughed and said, "The only restaurant in London to be awarded three Michelin tyres."
"Tee-hee-hee," giggled the cricket in the hearth.
"Fourth news item!" yelled Tommy. "Paddy Doherty, traveller, bare-knuckle fighter and star of, "My big Fat Irish gypsy wedding" beat Kerry Katona and Jedward in the final of, "Celebrity Big Brother."
"A great day for the Irish," I cried, "but would you want either of the three to live next door to you?"
"Hauld on, hauld on!" yelled the cricket. "That remark is out of order. You should be ashamed of yourself, you old rat bag."
I picked up the poker to knock the Buddy Holly out of the cricket, but Tommy stopped me with a yell of, "Item Five! Jordie Tuft, sage, oracle, vintage sherry drinker and son of the soil is considering running for the Presidency of Ireland."
"On what platform will old Jordie stand?" Yelled the cricket and I in close, Everly Brothers harmony.
"Old Jordie will stand on a platform of pallets!" cried Tommy. "A platform of pallets piled high so the people can see his wee feathered hat, muffler round the neck and the safety pin holding the fork of his trousers together."
"A shrewd move," chirped the cricket. "The safety pin will bring in the women's votes"
"Where does old Jordie stand on alternative fuel?" I bellowed.
"On the broad of his back waiting for the Lough Brickland fire brigade!" yelled Tommy. Old Jordie's motto on fuel is, "BURN BABY BURN!"
VIVA LA PRESIDENTE!" cried the cricket.
"Go home and prepare for CHANGE!" yelled Tommy. "Soon old Jordie shall bring all factions together, under the stirring banner of, "UNITED IN DEBT!"
I went to bed then, but Tommy and the cricket stayed up all night discussing old Jordie's campaign strategy.
(OH! I made no mention of Kelly or Coyle, I will leave that to others)