Tuesday, 13 September 2011

Beware Of A Sudden Malaise.

Deer Gerry and extended family, how excruciatingly merry it is to sea you back from the French Rivvy Aera. (The rich mans Cullybaccy) My sun Bon Jovi and me are worried about some rare, exotic, fatal disease you may have caught. "Bon Jovi" I ejeclated. "Gerry is of the opinon he was bit by a maurading mosquito and may have malevolent, malfeansant maleria". The cub immediately stopped picking his nose. A worried frown played over his headucated countance. The winda rattled as Bon Jovi roared. "I am reclined to think that uncle Gerry was bit, viciously and with callow disreguard bye a testes fly. Uncle Gerry should be on the look out for a sudden malaise". "What's a malaise sun?" I asked. "I don't NO!" yelled Bon Jovi, "But uncle Gerry should be on the look out for wan". "If a 'orribe testes fly has sunk its fangs into Gerry's lean, bronzed skin" I shrieked. "What Sim-toms should Gerry look out for, musha a lana and mother McCree?" Bon Jovi walked to the winda rattling mecurially six, silver washers from a bicycle wheel in his pocket and replied."The testes fly, as its name suggests can induce tarra testiness in the patient. Uncle Gerry may become tired, irritable, touchy and have an unbounded thirst for buttermilk. BUT!!! if Uncle Gerry begins to get dizzy, sea things that arn't there and drools uncontrolably from the mouth, he should pick up his bed and head for the casualy department in Alty-Galvin hospital--immediately!!! No messing about. Immediately!!!".I looked at the cub who had arrived so unexpectantly and "peculiary" into this world and thanked my lucky stars for having a cub like Bon Jovi.
A Bon Jovi went out he roared over his shoulder. "Uncle Gerry wool bee all rite. He is just jet-lagged and coming the old soldier".
Did you heer the wind yesterday Gerry. Wasn't it tarra in the extreme? Owling and owling round the house like a demented Damien. "Tis an evil portend!" roared Bon Jovi, as a shower of suit fell down the chimney.
In desperation Dan, I mean, Gerry. In desperation I threw the cub to the floor and we preyed loudly and franticlly to our lady of peculiar sucker. Lo, the wind calmed. Stars appeared in the sky. Mother and sun visited their respective po's and went to bed. Soon sleep, interupted by digestive dunderings fell on the house of Ryan.
From your curvicious, arvicious, pugnacious, Rosie Ryan. xxx

Thursday, 8 September 2011

Bon Jovi's headucation

Deer Jelly, what exquisite joy too heer your dull-sit voice waft over the rolling tundra of Co Tyrone again.
As you no, Gerry Anderson is in hospital having bionic legs fitted two his chassie in preperation for the Borstal marathon in America.
All our hopes, prayers and expectations are resting, like a parrot on the stooped, frail shoulders of the little man with the thinning hare.
How is you Jelly? Us, myself and my son Bon Jovi are as well as could be respected. Bon Jovi's headucation is astonshing the professors and Don's at saint Judas primary skool in Clougher.
Knot only is the cub up to the oxters with adding and substraction. Bon Jovi is breaking knew ground in the highly and respected world of dark matter.
Every day Bon Jovi endevors too shine a light on the elusive dark matter which abounds in the Universe like specs of suit. The cub wool go far Jelly. The cloistered towers of academia in Gortin beckon.
Your golf club carrier, Sean Thaddeaus Coyle did a fare to middeling job. But as you no Jelly, Mr Coyle is stuck like a luddite in the past. Mr Coyle is the only man in Ulster who is eagery awaiting the return of kipper ties and flared trousers. Coyle did his best, but in Bon Jovi's opinion is, knot fit for porpoise.
I must away Jelly. It is imperitive I shave my big, thick legs with my late daddy's cut-throat razor.Too wee spiders have taken up abode behind my knees and are feasting abundably on the flies, gnats and daddy-long-legs that get entangled and snared in the hares on my Venus-like legs.
I is your 'umble serviette, Rosie Ryan. xxx