Like an Orangeman with a faulty Sat Nav.

Great show on a rainy Monday morning Kid. Her with the perm at number 27, who always puts out a nice clean washing said, "Eeh by gum, that great show set my clogs tapping, so it did. Our Eli, leaped out of bed shouting, "I'll see you later, our mum, I'm off to mill to start some trouble!" Eeh, he's always been an odd child. He was a forceps delivery, thee knows. Oh aye,daft as a brush. He don't know his, Eeh by gums, from his, Eeh, I'll go to foot of our stairs." Tommy my cat, my consort and personal trainer, strummed his ukulele and sarcastically sang, "You must have been a beautiful baby. You must have been a beautiful child. I bet the day you started, farting in the garden, you must have drove the other kids wild." I picked up a Queen Ann table with the tell-tale bow-legs and beautiful chestnut whatnots and threw it at the feline George Formby.
"OUCH!" cried Tommy, as his head and Queen Ann made contact. Tommy rubbed his throbbing noggin with an oily rag and said, "May the good Lord protect us from an angry woman complaining about music!"
"That shrewish woman yesterday was a disgrace to her sex AND her knickers!" I yelled. "How dare she come on and bombast Gerald Michael Anderson as to his choice of music!"
"Hear! Hear!" cried Tommy. "Bring back the cat!"
"Bring back the Iron Maiden!" I yelled.
"Bring back the birch!" roared Tommy.
I topped it all by screaming, "Bring back the McCooies AND the Kennedys of Castlerock!!!"
"Here! Here!" screamed Tommy. "Give her a blast of the McCooies and see how she likes them apples!"
I marched round the room like an Orangeman with a faulty Sat Nav and said, "Coyle is behind this! Coyle, the instigator of coups is trying to whip up an Arab Winter of discontent."
"BOO!" cried Tommy. "Why doesn't old mono eyebrow stick to his bats, vigilantism and compost box?"
"Sean Coyle," I cried, "is a serial, hardline, fundamentalist meddler! If I was Gerry, I would ostracize Mr Coyle."
"Tommy winced and replied, "A tad severe, don't you think and think of the irritating, "Helium Boy" voice?"
I sighed and sadly said, "Let's face it Tommy, Mr Coyle will be there until the cows come home, the swallows return to Capistrano and apples grow on an ivy tree."
"Indeed!" said Tommy. "Did not our Lord say, "The poor you shall have with you always and-Sean Coyle! Don't blame me! My father and I had very angry words about THAT!!!"