I Am The Walrus!

Great show yesterday kid. A great show which largely went unnoticed at a morning tea dance in Saint Clint's parish hall for the over 90's. Consternation broke out when it became known that newcomer, Harry Tinkle, was only 74 and was fraudulently attending the tea dances with a false birth certificate so he could enjoy the sugar coated paris buns. "Off with his head!" yelled sprightly centurion, Rocky Cragg. Ancient relic, Mary Ann McSpalter, borrowed a pair of false teeth and shrieked, "To think I have been dancing with a toy boy! What would my dead husband, Jello, say if he could break out of his lead lined coffin and speak?" "Throw the lump of a cub out!" roared old 200 years old Midge Sassoon, who could remember the days of the Showbands! Nappies bulged as a motion was passed and old Harry Tinkle was given a riser and cast out into eternal darkness. I looked at Tommy my cat and said, "Let's see if I've got this right. When Gerry is away, Thunder Thighs, Gerry Kelly, will stand in for the first week and the Eyebrow, Sean Coyle will then take over the hot seat." "Correcto!" said Tommy. "In the event of either gentlemen, or indeed, both of them, getting run over by a headless horseman, Ken will step up to the plate and play the accordian for two weeks." "It's all good!" I said. "It's a win, win situation. Mind you, I wouldn't mind two weeks of wheezing, amateur accordian music." "We can but hope," said Tommy. As I walked down the Donegall Road, a large, grey suit emerged from a pie shop. I knocked on the giant suit and cried, "Come out Tubby Nolan, I know you're in there." A giant head appeared and the oval one roared, "Be off with you! Can a Zeppelin not stop for a lard rush?" "If you get any bigger," I cried, "it's the bum's rush you will be getting from the BBC!" "I am the BBC!" roared Tubby. "It may be sacrilegious to say it, but I am bigger than, JEYES FLUID!" Right on cue a busker sang, "I am the walrus, Goo-Goo-G'Joob."