How The Ministe of Transport Came Up With the New traffic Regulations In Belfast.

Great show yesterday kid. A great show which provided a rare insight into, "Born in a tea chest" Jordie Tuft. How Janet laughed when Jordie explained how to clip a chicken's wing. Old Jordie, is not only alive and well, but seems ready to carry out some strange, curious act which will grab the headlines and astonish the people of Northern Ireland. Having played with fire, Jordie may well turn his hand to flood, famine, or pestilence. When asked by big, Jim Fitzpatrick how he came up with the new traffic regulations in Belfast, Danny Kennedy, minister of transport, explained, "I simply played with my Dinky toys on the kitchen table until I found a solution. I then upgraded the kitchen table method to cover the whole of Belfast. Soon, a giant sugar bowl will be erected at the bottom of the Donegal road. Motorists must enter the sugar bowl from the left, giving way to on-coming traffic from the right. Large teaspoons on dual carriageways, will greatly reduce speed, leading to much greater safety for Lego men." Jim, was left speechless, so he and Danny, talked about Rinty Monaghan, to fill the remaining minutes of the interview. Cut away, to Donna Traynor, standing knee keep in clabber, talking about the poor potato harvest. I could see Tommy my cat was fuming, ready to explode. Suddenly Tommy kicked a small, stuffed, effigy of Steven Nolan and yelled, "This would never have happened under the rule of benign, dictator Noel Thompson. Noel Thompson would not stand by while poor Donna Traynor, was treated like a serf. There she is, standing in the cold, knee deep in mud, talking about the potato harvest, when everyone, even the dogs in the street, know that most potatoes are imported from warmer climes. It's a scare story! A non story! dreamed up by producers, who never ate a spud in their life. The lotus eaters!" cried Tommy."The prawn sandwich brigade. The veal and sushi merchants. Bring back, rugged, craggy jawed Noel Thompson, before Newsline, declines into a cheap version of, "The One Show." "Hear! Hear!" I cried. "Give that cat a lollipop. AND, my I also add, BBC comedy has hit an all time low. Citizen Khan, Not going out, Life with the Flynns and big, Miranda, are an insult to people who grew up with, Hancock, Steptoe and sons, Monty Python and Harry Worth." "Bring back Charlie Drake," yelled Tommy, "Tommy Cooper, Ken Dodd and hamster eater, Freddie Star!" After venting our fury on a lost scarecrow, Tommy said, "SO, Saturday is the big day. When the signing of the Ulster Covenant with Bic pens is remembered.". "I was there!" I cried. "I was only a cuttie of 28, but I remember Lord Carson saying, "Put your names down here boys. If you can't write, just put down an X. And a wee man at the back, with a fag in his mouth and a flat cap on his head roared, "My Lord, how do you spell, X?" "Tubby Nolan is cashing in," said Tommy. "He plans to have a chain of trestle tables along the way, selling tea, coffee, baps and wee buns. Big Audrey, has been baking for the past five years. The whole enterprise, is called, "Tubby's Tuck In" and all proceeds go towards the purchase of a large, industrial, gastric band from the Boeing company." "Too little, too late!" I cried. "Take Tommy to the shipyard and have his lips welded together. Then, and only then, will we see the inner core of rogue planet, Nolan."