Deer Gerry, I heer you wool soon be oft again, as the Mark Carruthers boy mite say. I told my Sun Bon Jovi to model himself on Mark Carruthers, but the cub said, "Indeed and I wool knot. I don't want to be the laughing stock of Clougher. Walking about with a brolly and yelling, "Looking forward to it. If I was picking a role model" said Bon Jovi, "I wood pick Noel Thompson. A man with rugged good looks and the ability too jump any shuck or stile that life may put in his path".
I like Noel Thompson Gerry. But he is not as well bread or gentile as Mark Carruthers. Mark Carruthers is the kind of boy who wood put his blazer over a puddle hole so a girl could glide across without getting wet to the arse. I wood say that Noel Thompson's motto wood be,
RECULER POUR MIEUX SAUTER.
Which as you well know means,
"Draw Back To Take A Better Leap"
Pass that motto on too stile jumper Thompson. He could have it written in Latin on a crest on his blazer.
"Natura Abhorret vacuum. As Ciss-a-row mite have said to Pluto. Nature abhors a vacuum. With that in mind. I put on my late, dead mammies brown duffle coat and sallied forth too Clougher Hi skool too enlist in some nite classes. Latin, Arabic and Hindo knot beeing on the Kar-lick-u-lum, I put my John Henry down for woodwork and a psycho class that deals with the minuscule workings of the brane. Did you know Gerry, that your arm wool knot shoot up in the air unless the brane orders it too? Having gained that knowledge, I now test my brane every morning by shooting my right arm up in the air. Inadvertaintly I also yell, HEIL HITLER" which may knot be TCP, but as long as no wan hears me what harm does it do?
Gerry, I wood advise you to test your brane by making something jump up in the morning. It may be an arm, it may be a leg. Then you kan turn too your good wife and say, "Today my brane is firing on all cylinders".And she wool probably reply, "Isn't that grate. Now you kan make the breakfast and bring mine to the bed".The brane Gerry! what is it?
The brane is a conglomeration of diverse cells, all firing pulses of minute electric bolts at wan and other. The brane is both nuclear reactor and comsputer all rolled into one. They say auld Confuse-Us the Chinese Phill-officer had a brane the size of a water mellon. They have his skool cap on display in Pee-king museam with saint Lotus Blossom rote on the front.
So Gerry, this fall I shall be studying the brain and come next Easter, I hope to be picking up a certificate, licencing me too experiment with any person, living or dead who gives their written permission for brane delving.
Why have I also taken up woodwork? Well, let me tell you.With the experience gained by the use of hammer and saw, I plan too make too coffins, wan for me and wan for Bon Jovi. The coffins wool measure six foot bye three. Bon Jovi is no where near six foot. But prey God Bon Jovi wool be granted a long life and grow into the coffin. There we shall lie together in Clougher graveyard. Requiescating inpace together. Snug as a bug in a rug. Oblivious too the smell of glue, which is made from the hooves of horses, wafting up us dead hooters.
I met auld Nellie Granite today Gerry. Bragging about the big, secondhand piano her Willie bought her.
"Yes" said Nellie "Wan day after-brunch, my Willie looked around and said. "Nellie, we just MUST have a piano" "Three men brought the piano in a big lorry" said Nellie. "But no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't get the piano up the stares".
"Some hanlin'" I said
"Oh it was!" said Nellie. "Then my Willie came in from work. My Willie took in the seen with wan glance and said too the boy with the ginger hare.
"Left hand down a bit"
"And then" said Nellie "As if by magic, the piano went up the stares, like a rat up a sewer pipe".
"It just goes to show" I said
"Just goes to show what?" said Nellie
"It just goes too show" I guldered. "That's where there's a Willie, there's a way".
"You're just jealous Rosie" yelled Nellie. "You don't have a piano and if you did, you wood probably put the po in it.
"Get out!" I yelled. "Get out! Or bye the Lord Harry I wool put a dunt in the arse of your nickers with the toe of my hobnailed boot".
"Auld piss the bed" yelled Nellie, as she threw her big lump of a leg on her bicycle.
"Auld Nellie NO drawers" I roared.
"Auld Rosie poo-poo" yelled Nellie
"Auld Nellie the hey shed strumpet" I roared.
And so it went on as the sun set in the West and tired birds with the wings fair hanging from them, flew home to roast. As the son's rays spread out like the hand of God over the bog. I put my hand too my ear and heard far, far oft in the stilly distance.
"Auld Rosie the boozie floozie"
I gently shut the door. Picked up Proust and soon my branes electrodes were sending out spark, after spark of Hi super octane, turbo charged, inhuman intelligence.
Ah, the brane, the brane. Thank God I have wan. God help the poor craters who wool go too sleep tonite without a--brane.
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