HAVE I BEAN CLASPING A GULPIN TWO MY BISUM?

As the evening son filtered through the cobwebbed winda, it illuminated a seen of harmony and domestos bliss. Bon Jovi, my boy child and me, were sitting at the kitchen table getting stuck into a good tightener of roast wesal, knew spuds and the buttered heels of pan loaves, all washed down with too big mugs of Iron Brue served at room temperature. A big cloud of black flies, blew-bottles and little midgets flew round our bent heads, but we didn't care, they wern't getting any.
I demurly and gentilly broke a femur with my strong nashers, wiped the greese from my face and said. "Sucelent, oh so secelent, the flesh of this vermin or rodent, be it what it may, simply falls away from the bone". "It's the best wesal I have ever tasted" roared Bon Jovi.
"And I think I detect a sutule flavour, it mite have bean dinning on baby mice".
"Its a dog eat dog world" I said as I sunk my willing nashers into the are-rump of the weseal.
After the meel, we both cleaned our hands on our ganseys, broke wind with grate volume and ferocious verosity and roared "UP TYRONE".
After the meel I noticed a change in Bon Jovi, he who had sprung from my lions, had a funny looking auld face on him and he was gleeking at me from under the wan big eyebrow that covered both eyes. I looked at him, sitting there in a hi chair, with his hobnailed boots swinging under the table. His grate big, round head, the slope of his rounded shoulders and the queer look that brought a spark too his jet black eyes. What was a foot with the boy child? why did he sit there glowering at me? was he still hungry? wood he eat ME? his own mother? I eased round, so I could grab the poker if the gulpin came at me.
Bon Jovi broke wind again and roared "Pearhaps I am labouring under a missapprention, but is the heels of pan loaves getting smaller?"
"Knot at tall" I cried "your mouth is getting bigger, so ergo, you perceive that the heels of pan loaves are getting smaller"
"Ah, so its all a matter of-perception?" said Bon Jovi.
"Yes" I said "remember the auld saying, into every life, a little change must fall, you are growing up, so you sea things differently".
Bon Jovi clasped his fingers and said "I'm glad you brought that up, lately I have bean thinking about my position here, I have bean thinking about my prospects and what I want out of life".
"What the hell are you going on about boy?" I yelled "are you going to join the Moonies?"
"Nothing so-drastic" said Bon Jovi, swinging his hobnailed boots with grater vigour.
"Know, its like you say, everything changes, we do knot live in a stationery, static world, we move on, we evolve we seek knew horizons, in short-we change"
"Hauld on, hauld on" I yelled "I don't like this auld talk, so I don't, you're talking like, like-Eamon McCann, say your prayers and go too your box" I roared.
"Sit down mater" said Bon Jovi, with a hint of menace in his voice.
"You alluded to-perception earlier, but what is-perception? wood ones man perception, be another mans, OR womans-perception? Bon Jovi smiled, well it was more of a girn and said.
Take that cup and that tee-pot, which in your mind is subservant two the other?"
"The cup" I yelled "And why mater" quizzed the wee gulpin. "Because its-smaller" I said.
Bon Jovi leaned back in his chair and hissed, "Exactly, its smaller and it wool always be-smaller but take our position now". "What do you mean" I yelled.
"Well" said Bon Jovi, "At the moment, I am smaller than you, (most people are) he muttered under his breath "but I wool knot always be smaller than you, because I an knot a tee-cup, I am a kuman-being" "Listen, listen" I roared.
"I wood prefer if you wood just keep quite now" said Bon Jovi "I really wood.
So, we are agreed that perception kan change, thyme kan change perception, look down at the table, you are the tee-pot and I am the tee-cup, the subservant, the lesser of the too, a mere satallite orbiting the greater mass, but-things change, I am getting bigger".
"So am I" I yelled. "True" said Bon Jovi "But as you get older, you get, how shall I put this? you get more-stupid, more thick, more retarded, more do-lally, more.....
"Hauld on boy" I yelled "hauld on just a cotton-pickin' moment".
"KNOW, you hauld on" roared Bon Jovi, jumping too his feet. "I am tired of being the satellite, orbiting your big, gasseous mass, soon I wool hold the reins of power, soon, I shall be the boss, soon, I wool have you put you in a home for the konfused and bewildered, but I wool visit you twice a year and bring you a bottle of orange dilute, the cheep kind and a packet of fig rolls or jaffa cakes, depending on the state of your auld, withered gums, you may knot know me, but I wool know I am a good sun and as your next of kin, I wool have kontrol of all monies, deeds, insurance policys and of course-this house, soon, this wool be mine-ALL MINE"
I looked at the gulpin with a glint in my eye and said "Oh wool you? you have it all figured out, haven't you? but you forgot one thing my boy"
"What's that?" said Bon Jovi, with a tremble in his voice.
"CHUCK CORONA" I roared "If I marry Chuck, HE wool be my next of kin and you wool be thrown out into the cauld of a Winters nite, to fend for yourself, what do you think of that--perception?"
The cub bit his nails and wailed "I was only letting on mammy, I wood never put you in a home, I like being the--tee-cup".
"Get into your cardboard box" I roared "and if you show your big, turnip head too-nite, by the wholly shroud of saint Elmer, I wool bend that poker across that big thing you call a head".
In the silence I smiled, oust me wood he? launch a coo-de-tah against Rosie Ryan? I think knot, I'm knot called the Pol Pot of Clougher for nothing, but--deep in my hart I was brusting with pride, Bon Jovi, was his mothers sun all rite.
Perception??? I'll give the humpy, wee brute perception with my tow.