It Has A Ring To It!

Great show to start the week kid. The great show blew the cobwebs from the canyons of my wind, girded my loose loins and gave me a raison de-etre, which I pickled in cider and placed in a jar. The great show brought faith, hope and sanity to old Ruby Capsules, who had been trapped in her room for three days with both feet down one leg of her knickers. A quick thinking window cleaner dialled 999 and yelled, "I need an ambulance and a brace of vicars, old lady trapped in a pair of knickers!" The firemen cut old Ruby out of her mangled knickers and the chief fireman said, "I bet what you need right now is a good slash."
Old Ruby, smiled at him with her gums and cackled, "Oh contraire young man. I have had numerous slashes while waiting for you!"
Gas masks were immediately issued to all the crew!
Tommy my cat, turned off the radio by showing it naked pictures of me and said,
"Well, Mr Coyle has only gone and done it! He called Gerry a bare-faced liar on live radio."
"He's a bad boy," I said. "He needs a sharp, sally rod round the backs of his legs. If I had Mr Coyle now, I would put him over my knee and wring his neck!" "He called Gerry a liar!" said Tommy. "In the old West of Belfast, that was a prelude to gun play."
"Where will he go from here?" I screamed. "Will he call Gerry a robber, a murderer, or heaven forbid, an entertainer!" Tommy opened a packet of biscuits with a chainsaw and said,
"Mr Coyle blames his erratic, corner-boy behavior on a fall. According to Mr Coyle, while dodging rubber bullets, he fell from the roof of the Rossville flats and landed on his head."
"NO excuses!" I yelled. "No one has fallen on their head more than me and I am completely normal."
The Pinteresque pause which followed, lasted for three hours, then Tommy looked at me and said,
"Do you believe Gerry's story about sending a wee parcel free by bus?"
"Of course NOT!" I said. "It's just another lie, from the master of lies, Gerald Michael Anderson!"
Tommy finally caught the green pea he had been chasing round his plate with a knife and said,
"I wonder what old, ousted, former UUP leader Tom Elliott is doing now."
"Probably waiting for the result of a no confidence motion brought about by his cows," I replied.
"What," said Tommy, "if the cows, like so many in Northern Ireland, say-NO?"
"In that case," I said. "Old Tom will be thrown into a white van and taken straight to the house of Lords."
"The final indignity," said Tommy. "Oh the shame, the shame!"
"It will be a long time," I yelled, "before old Tom Elliott is seen in Joe Mahon's in Irvinestown on Karaoke night."
"What a come down!" said Tommy. "Old Tom sure liked to belt out "Rhinestone Cowboy". I wonder what name Lord Elliott would take?"
I ruminated behind the sofa and said, "How about, Lord Erne from Fermanagh?"
"I like it," said Tommy. "Like old Tom's bull, it has a ring to it!"