"Love is a many splendent thing"

If my mammary serves me rite it was Alexander the Grate who said.
"Love is a many splendent thing".
Alexander was known as the, "Grate" because of his rag time band and obsessive panchant for open fires.
Wholly nuptials were knonfirmed by a bona-fido priest at "The last Stop" old folks home in Clougher this weak.
The konsenting adults were auld 94 year old Clint McTavish and auld 89 year old Shelia "Toots" McSplatter.
Apparently the pear of ancient love birds had bean caught traversing the corridor to wan and others bedrooms at nite and the priest said.
"We'd better splice them too auld muppets before they burn in hell for all eternally".
On the morning of the wedding, auld Clint looked almost human wearing a mustard coloured soot from War on Want.
The contrasting Celtic football club trainers gave auld Clint a dapper, jazzy, playboy apperance.
The blushing bride, for auld Shelia does have a big, red, bleezer of a face was dressed in green, which complimented her teeth.
"DO YOU" said the priest.
"I DO!" yelled auld Clint.
"Hauld on yeh boy" said the priest.
"You're a bit quick of the mark there.
"Hauld on until I give you the nod. This isn't an auction you know, its a wedding".
Then wan of the alter boys fainted as he gazed into the feces of the ancient lovebirds.
It took quite a while too konfirm nuptils on the auld relics what with leering and drooling, breaking wind and falling down.
No sooner had they got auld Clint up on his feet than auld Shelia was down on her arse.
There was an outbreak of boking in the church when the priest said with a look of distaste on his blessed and concertinaed face,
"You may now kiss the bride".
The too auld wrinklies came together with a clash of zimmer frames and SLURPED the face of each other like too conger eels.
Nurses and carers threw bits of cut up toilet roll over the 'appy couple in lou of konfetti.
Wan carer who didn't like them flung handfulls of rice with such ferocity it stung like shotgun pellets.
Then back to "The Last Stop" home for a feed of ox tale soup and spam sandwitches with the crusts cut off.
The marriage was consumed later that nite it the morgue which had bean turned into the honymoon sweet complete with matching po's and Chinese lanterns.
The next morning a nurse found auld Shelia lying on the broad of her back with her mouth open and beside her auld Clint with his mustard trousers round his ankles.
Apparently auld Clint couldn't get his War on Want, mustard trousers over his Celtic football club trainers.
The last I herd the ancients were talking of going to Bundoran for a few daze in the Summer.
When I came home from the wedding I said to my sun Bon Jovi.
"Oh Bon Jovi, never let me grow old".
"Too late" giggled the grotesque gulpin.
"That day has came and gone".
Only I was hefted I wood have raced the cub up hill and down dale.
I is your 'umble korrespondant.
Rosie Ryan xxx