Where did the stile jumping get Noel Thompson?

Tommy my cat, dragged my head out of the oven and yelled, "Gerald Michael Anderson is back on his feet and ready to go!"
"GREAT!" I cried. "Now we can have some Wing, Chilly Bagpipes and Mongolian, nose flute music, instead of the happy, clappy songs Mr Coyle plays.
Tommy who, for some reason was dressed up as Brigham Young, the founder of the Mormon religion. said, "Now, we are a family again! I never close my eyes until I hear Gerry, Sean, Emma and Janet come in at night."
"Stop your old brown-nosing!" I yelled. "If you think Gerry Anderson will send you a CD, think again! Poor, old Jordie Tuft has been waiting for a Christmas parcel for twenty years."
"You're right there, wee woman," said Jordie, as he came into my house smelling of Jeyes Fluid, cooking sherry and mature manure. "JORDIE!" I screamed. "What brings you to Belfast?"
"Urination," said Jordie. "I have came to Belfast with one purpose in mind and that is to urinate on Gerry Anderson's tree. Twenty long years I have waited at my front gate, hoping, praying that Gerry Anderson, would send me a wee parcel full of whiskey, Christmas cake and Pecker Dunn Cds. What I got," roared Jordie, "was diddly-squat! Diddly-squat boy, wrapped up in nothing. Not even wan of them auld fairy rashers. You know fairy rashers? The wee woman says at the party, "OOH! Mr Ambassador, with these fairy rashers, you are spoiling us." If that wee woman was at a party in Gerry Anderson's house, she would wait a long time for her fairy rashers!" Old Jordie, did a practice urination behind the sofa and then set off to vandalize the tree which bore the name, Gerry Anderson.
"Where did it get you?" I roared to Noel Thompson, at the other side of the street. "Where did all your stile-jumping get you? Have you increased your life span by one second? NO! Are you any healthier? NO! Amen, amen, I say on to you. Better had you lay in bed, than thundering round the mountains of Mourne like a buck goat looking for something to jump over. So, once more I say on to you, Where did it get you?"
"BE off with you," said Noel Thompson. "I must hasten to the BBC. I have a very important bulletin to read."
"Oh yes!" I yelled. "You're very good at talking about other people, BUT when it comes to stile-jumping, you clam up and have nothing to say. You will not fob me off Mr Thompson. As a woman who is considering paying for a TV licence I ask you once again.
All this stile-jumping?. WHERE DID IT GET YOU? NO! I will not go away. I demand to know, WHERE DID IT GET YOU? WHERE DID IT GET YOU? You know the stile-jumping I'm talking about Mr Thompson. WHERE DID IT GET YOU? WHERE DID IT GET YOU????