Why dost thou stand there sorrowing?"
I said to my sun Bon Jovi, as he stood at the haggard with a look of pastural passivity on his pale pasty face.
I looked with love at he who had sprang from lions like a grotesque Tasmanian devil in the dead of nite.
To my everlasting shame I remember roaring too the genie-colagist.
"KNOW! KNOW! Put it back! Put it BACK!"
The midwife slapped me across the face twenty-seven times to bring me to my senses.
I blame the epi-dural. God knows what was in that needle. It could have bean drugs are anything!.
Bon Jovi gazed boninely across the vast panoramic expance of bog.
Broke wind alfrescoly and replied.
"Alas, a few daze and a few daze more and I must return two my seat of learing at saint Judas skool in Clougher".
"But you like skool Bon Jovi" I said.
"And in a short thyme your academic life wool come two an end.
Your brane is fare stuffed with headucation. All that remains is a bit off topping off two make sure you are filled to the brim".
Bon Jovi cleaned his nose dexterously with a quick wipe of both coat sleeves and sighed.
"'Tis the dog daze of Summer. My hart always fills with grate grief and sadness during the canine daze of Summer.
What's it all about?" yelled the lump of a cub.
"What is my mission, my vacation in life? The atom has bean split and the wheel invented. What else is left too do for a juvunile student whose brain is stuffed and brusting with headucation like what mine is?"
"What did the careering officer say when you saw her last" I said.
"WORDS!" cried Bon Jovi.
"That's all I got from the careering officer. She used words like, unique, special, unnatural one of a kind, oddity, but as to my career?. She said I should stay near home and look both ways before I crossed the road".
"And your teechers?" I asked.
"What do those who have taut you think of your undoubted genius?
Do they talk of Eaten, Oxford, Cambridge, even-Strangways which I am reliably informed is a renowed institution for boys of your ilk?"
Cleverly using the wind as an extraction fan. Bon Jovi broke wind again and replied.
"I heerd auld Miss Krackling and Miss McGroaper talking about me while they were having a crafty fag.
Auld Miss Krackling said.
"Wool we ever sea another cub at saint Judas skool with the stupendous cranial deficiency of master Bon Jovi Ryan"?
"Miss McGroaper let a shriek out of her like a korn crake and screamed.
"Never, Never, NEVER! Lightening never strikes twice in the same plaice".
"Hi praise indeed!" I cried.
"Coming from too teechers whose intellicect is unapparelled".
Mother and sun stood there, looking over the ever changing bog.
Birds flew on Hi. Rabbits and rodents scurried through the dead and dying flora and fauna.
Peaceful. So peaceful.
Bon Jovi coughed and said.
"I rote a wee poem mammy. Do you want two heer it"?
"Want to heer it?" I yelled.
"I want too heer it with every bone, muscle and fibre in my body".
Bon Jovi closed his eyes and roared.
"There is sadness in my sadness when I'm sad.
There is gladness in my gladness when I'm glad.
There is madness in my madness when I'm mad.
But the sadness in my sadness
and the gladness in my gladness
And the madness in my madness
Are nothing to my badness when I'm bad".
I stood open-mouthed and agog. Then I yelled.
"You're rotten Bon Jovi. Rotten with branes!".
Saturday, 14 August 2010
Getting Ready For September
Grate back two skool sail at Adolf Ramsbottom and daughters drapery shop in Clougher.
I got my sun, wee Bon Jovi too pear of long jon's with a flap at the back.
"I'm a big boy now mammy" said the wee doat.
"Yes you is Bon Jovi" I said.
"But don't depend on the flaps. Be dilligent and precocious at all times"
I also got the cub too pare of knew secondhand hobnailed boots.
A blazer with the crest of the desert rats on the front.
And a pear of Ex-Israeli, Mosat camaflage trousers with a big pocket too carry a Ussi sub machine gun.
Bon Jovi will cut some figure when he gets on the skool bus in September.
Jelly, please play,
"What in the world has come over you".
For auld Pete (The weseal) McSideways who has just scene his wifes face after the comestic surgery.
Apparently the three sheep dogs went beserk and bit auld Pete all over the derriere, before disapearing into the nite. Ah, wee Cleo is ruined.When the parish priest saw her he said. "Ah Cleo, was anyone else hurt in the accident?" Did knot saint Paul say. "Vanitory! All is-Vanitory!
From your living doll.
Mrs Rosie Ryan. xxx
I got my sun, wee Bon Jovi too pear of long jon's with a flap at the back.
"I'm a big boy now mammy" said the wee doat.
"Yes you is Bon Jovi" I said.
"But don't depend on the flaps. Be dilligent and precocious at all times"
I also got the cub too pare of knew secondhand hobnailed boots.
A blazer with the crest of the desert rats on the front.
And a pear of Ex-Israeli, Mosat camaflage trousers with a big pocket too carry a Ussi sub machine gun.
Bon Jovi will cut some figure when he gets on the skool bus in September.
Jelly, please play,
"What in the world has come over you".
For auld Pete (The weseal) McSideways who has just scene his wifes face after the comestic surgery.
Apparently the three sheep dogs went beserk and bit auld Pete all over the derriere, before disapearing into the nite. Ah, wee Cleo is ruined.When the parish priest saw her he said. "Ah Cleo, was anyone else hurt in the accident?" Did knot saint Paul say. "Vanitory! All is-Vanitory!
From your living doll.
Mrs Rosie Ryan. xxx
The Clougher Annual Donkey Derby
Peeple came from as far away as Gortin and Plumbridge on Sonday two watch the annual Clougher donkey Grand Pricks derby. The donkeys run round the streets of Clougher. Turning Clougher into another Monty Carlo.
There were seven pedigree donkeys in the race. Their names were.
"Paddy's Pride.
McSwiveller's Flyer.
Elvis.
Micky's Delight.
Jump The Shuck.
Bray Away
And Mucky Lane ridden bye by sun Bon Jovi.
The flag fell and they were off. McSwiveller's Flyer was left at the starting post. A thistle under the tale soon got him going and the race was on.
Down past the Pound shop they thundered. A sharp rite into Hobo street and then a left into Bog Hole Crescent. Up Hi street they galloped with Bray Away nose to nose with Elvis and Bon Jovi making ground on Mucky Lane. Bon Jovi broke through to take the lead. Then-kalamity! A Spar shopping bag blowing in the wind settled over Bon Jovi's head and the cub went careering into McTiddlers drapery shop. Knocking over three display stands of Winter simmets and long johns. Bon Jovi got a slight concussion, but thank goodness was knot put down.
Your dream honey,
Mrs Rosie Ryan xxx
Oh, racing aficionados mite like two no that Elvis won by a no's at seven too wan!.
There were seven pedigree donkeys in the race. Their names were.
"Paddy's Pride.
McSwiveller's Flyer.
Elvis.
Micky's Delight.
Jump The Shuck.
Bray Away
And Mucky Lane ridden bye by sun Bon Jovi.
The flag fell and they were off. McSwiveller's Flyer was left at the starting post. A thistle under the tale soon got him going and the race was on.
Down past the Pound shop they thundered. A sharp rite into Hobo street and then a left into Bog Hole Crescent. Up Hi street they galloped with Bray Away nose to nose with Elvis and Bon Jovi making ground on Mucky Lane. Bon Jovi broke through to take the lead. Then-kalamity! A Spar shopping bag blowing in the wind settled over Bon Jovi's head and the cub went careering into McTiddlers drapery shop. Knocking over three display stands of Winter simmets and long johns. Bon Jovi got a slight concussion, but thank goodness was knot put down.
Your dream honey,
Mrs Rosie Ryan xxx
Oh, racing aficionados mite like two no that Elvis won by a no's at seven too wan!.
Thursday, 5 August 2010
SOME HANLIN!
Imagine my condensation when I picked up my stylish designer "Tuff Boy" hobnailed boots and found them knot fit for porpoise.
"Knackered!" laughed my sun Bon Jovi.
"Rosie's big size fourteens are knackered".
"Shut your gub, you demonic elf" I yelled.
"Only a gulpin of un-un-unpresulmptuous evil malignancy bordering on mischievous wickedness wood talk two his auld mammy like that".
"I told you two keep off the midden" roared Bon Jovi.
"Every thyme I look out the winda. There you are, standing on top of the midden like an auld red faced rooster. The dung has eaten through the souls of your big hobnailed boots and left you bare footed and bereft of footwear. Maybe now you wool sit dozing at the fire the way a big, fat stupid, doting auld bag should".
"Bye the Count of Monty Cristo" I yelled.
"How dare you bring aggrevation and- and-zelophobic trouble and stress to the portal of your mater".
"NICKERS!" roared Bon Jovi.
"Yes!-NICKERS!. Don't take your-your-irrational ire out on the lump of a cub. I fear you knot! I look into your big, red bleezer of a face and retort-NICKERS!".
"Bye the seven Spanish angels, I'll cut the big head of you" I roared.
And I reached for the scythe that was leaning up against the child of Prague and took a swing at the jet black imp from hell. Bon Jovi did an Ali shuffle. Leaped the half door like a donkey on Red Bull and disappeared into the wide blue yonder.
As the cub ran he yelled.
"Nickers two Rosie and her auld hobnailed boots".
I sighed and put on my auld wellingtons. After working out that the green wellington went on the rite foot and the black wellington went on the left foot, I toggled myself into my late mammies brown duffle coat and set off for Clougher.
I frog marched into Coochies the cobblers and yelled.
"ACHTUNG! ACHTUNG! Das boots. Das hobnailed boots. SCHNELL! SCHNELL!".
Auld Dynamo Coochie made a spalter to hide the polygenetic magazine he was reeding and cried.
"Rite away Mrs Ryan. Rite away. You take size 14, the biggest size we have in the shop?".
"JA!" I yelled. "SCHNELL! Das Boots. SCHNELL!, SCHNELL!".
Soon I was on my way home with the knew boots in a box the size of small coffin.
I entered my abode to the aroma of cullinary delights.
"Bon Jovi leapt up like a Jackeen in the box and said.
"You must be hungry mammy. When you were gone I made you five fried eggs, half a pound of streaky bacon, three and a half sausages and a veritable mound of fried bread".
With tears in my eyes I hugged my cub and said.
"Bon Jovi, you are a bon cabellero. A good amigo. Is my meel in the oven?"
"What meel?" said Bon Jovi.
"The meel you prepared for me" I said.
"Oh THAT meel" said Bon Jovi.
"You were away so long, I got hungry and ate it myself. Hard cheddar mater".
Once again I grabbed the scythe and yelled.
"You stinking, rotten excuse for a sun.
Bye the rivers of Babby-Lon I will sever your big, round head from your body".
I made a swipe with the scythe. The fruit of my lions scampered out the window and took off over the bog with me behind him.
"GULPIN!" I yelled.
"NICKERS!" roared Bon Jovi.
And so it went on 'till the gloom of the nite enveloped the both of us.
What a cub!
But he is some hanlin'.
"Knackered!" laughed my sun Bon Jovi.
"Rosie's big size fourteens are knackered".
"Shut your gub, you demonic elf" I yelled.
"Only a gulpin of un-un-unpresulmptuous evil malignancy bordering on mischievous wickedness wood talk two his auld mammy like that".
"I told you two keep off the midden" roared Bon Jovi.
"Every thyme I look out the winda. There you are, standing on top of the midden like an auld red faced rooster. The dung has eaten through the souls of your big hobnailed boots and left you bare footed and bereft of footwear. Maybe now you wool sit dozing at the fire the way a big, fat stupid, doting auld bag should".
"Bye the Count of Monty Cristo" I yelled.
"How dare you bring aggrevation and- and-zelophobic trouble and stress to the portal of your mater".
"NICKERS!" roared Bon Jovi.
"Yes!-NICKERS!. Don't take your-your-irrational ire out on the lump of a cub. I fear you knot! I look into your big, red bleezer of a face and retort-NICKERS!".
"Bye the seven Spanish angels, I'll cut the big head of you" I roared.
And I reached for the scythe that was leaning up against the child of Prague and took a swing at the jet black imp from hell. Bon Jovi did an Ali shuffle. Leaped the half door like a donkey on Red Bull and disappeared into the wide blue yonder.
As the cub ran he yelled.
"Nickers two Rosie and her auld hobnailed boots".
I sighed and put on my auld wellingtons. After working out that the green wellington went on the rite foot and the black wellington went on the left foot, I toggled myself into my late mammies brown duffle coat and set off for Clougher.
I frog marched into Coochies the cobblers and yelled.
"ACHTUNG! ACHTUNG! Das boots. Das hobnailed boots. SCHNELL! SCHNELL!".
Auld Dynamo Coochie made a spalter to hide the polygenetic magazine he was reeding and cried.
"Rite away Mrs Ryan. Rite away. You take size 14, the biggest size we have in the shop?".
"JA!" I yelled. "SCHNELL! Das Boots. SCHNELL!, SCHNELL!".
Soon I was on my way home with the knew boots in a box the size of small coffin.
I entered my abode to the aroma of cullinary delights.
"Bon Jovi leapt up like a Jackeen in the box and said.
"You must be hungry mammy. When you were gone I made you five fried eggs, half a pound of streaky bacon, three and a half sausages and a veritable mound of fried bread".
With tears in my eyes I hugged my cub and said.
"Bon Jovi, you are a bon cabellero. A good amigo. Is my meel in the oven?"
"What meel?" said Bon Jovi.
"The meel you prepared for me" I said.
"Oh THAT meel" said Bon Jovi.
"You were away so long, I got hungry and ate it myself. Hard cheddar mater".
Once again I grabbed the scythe and yelled.
"You stinking, rotten excuse for a sun.
Bye the rivers of Babby-Lon I will sever your big, round head from your body".
I made a swipe with the scythe. The fruit of my lions scampered out the window and took off over the bog with me behind him.
"GULPIN!" I yelled.
"NICKERS!" roared Bon Jovi.
And so it went on 'till the gloom of the nite enveloped the both of us.
What a cub!
But he is some hanlin'.
Saturday, 31 July 2010
ROSIE RYAN'S EPISTLE TO THE CLOUGHERARIANS
Behold peeple of Clougher. I is Rosie Ryan and I am touched. Touched by the hand of God.
The Lord God almighty has spoken to me through the devine hangel Willie John. It came about thus. At half past fore on Monday night, I was awakened by a peculiar portend.
"Is I hefted?" I mummered into my drool soaked pillow.
Then I heard a voice cry from on Hi.
"Arise Rosie Ryan. I is the Lord God almighty. You have been chosen to spread the good word in Clougher and surrounding districts".
"LORD!" I cried.
"I is knot worthy".
"Worthy or knot" boomed God.
"You wool have two do. Behold, I am sending you a hangel. The heaveny hangel wool consul you and guide you through the pits and snares of sin"
"Oh Lord" I yelled.
"I is as an empty vessal. Fill me too overflowing with faith, hope and charity!.
"I shall do my best" said God.
Then a wild brite lite illustrated the room and a hangel appeared beside the po.
"Fear knot" said the hangel.
"I is the hangel Willie John. I is a baritone in the celestial choir.
You among all weeman have bean chosen to spread the gospel in the accursed city of Clougher.
Bee without fear! I Wille John shall be by your side. Guiding your step and speaking direct from your holy, flapping gub".
And low it came two pass.
Next morn I tied my sandles with binder-twine, picked up my staff and set out for the evil city of-Clougher.
On the stroke of noon, I mounted the cenotaph and spoke thus.
"Gulpins and scumbags of Clougher. You could have been the knew Jerusalem, but you turned away from Jehovah and turned this small market town in Tyrone into another Soddem and Begorrgh.
"REPEANT! I roared.
"Or the Lord God almighty wool lose his rag and smite you with a smite the like of which the world has never scene.
Do youse want too burn for all eternally?"
"Faith, Hope and Charity" I yelled
These three are good. But the gratest
of these three--is-chastity!.
Behold I say onto you you. Youse who commit sins of the flesh, will be hung from your forks on crooks over the hot burning fires of-hell. And knot for just a day. Knot for just a weak. Knot for just a year, but etermity.
Covet knot your neighbours ass" I roared. Better for you to wash your own ass with strong lifeboy soap and a jap of Dettol.
Take knot the Lords name in vain. Just yell, cricky, jeepers, sugar or flip.
Honour thy daddy and thy mammy. Never put them in a home, until acute Do-lallyness has set in.
If you covet your neighbours wife, go and get your eyes tested. For Clougher abounds with dumplins of unparrelled uglyness.
Do know steel-unless your giro is late.
Do knot indulge in strong drink. Make your own, its cheeper.
Go two mass on Sunday and holidays of oblation unless you are bluttered.
Spread knot calamity.It is wild hard to cure and is the result of sex with strangers.
Never suffer a witch to live".
That was then the men in white coats came. Laid hands on me and took me to a plaice of menthol confinement.
For three daze I was poked and prodded bye doctors, nurses and people who just came into visit a nut case.
After three daze I arose and made my my home. Praising the Lord and cutting nettles in half with my holy staff.
Now people come in kars to stare at me.
"What did you come two sea" I cry.
"A Reid blowing in the wind?"
"KNOW!" they yell.
"We came to sea Rosie Ryan the loony in the bog".
Wool Rosie Ryan end up another Martha for her faith?
Who no's. Two all my detracters I say.
"GO FORTH AND MULTIPY!".
"All that I am
All that I do
And if I have a screw loose
I offer it to you".
The Lord God almighty has spoken to me through the devine hangel Willie John. It came about thus. At half past fore on Monday night, I was awakened by a peculiar portend.
"Is I hefted?" I mummered into my drool soaked pillow.
Then I heard a voice cry from on Hi.
"Arise Rosie Ryan. I is the Lord God almighty. You have been chosen to spread the good word in Clougher and surrounding districts".
"LORD!" I cried.
"I is knot worthy".
"Worthy or knot" boomed God.
"You wool have two do. Behold, I am sending you a hangel. The heaveny hangel wool consul you and guide you through the pits and snares of sin"
"Oh Lord" I yelled.
"I is as an empty vessal. Fill me too overflowing with faith, hope and charity!.
"I shall do my best" said God.
Then a wild brite lite illustrated the room and a hangel appeared beside the po.
"Fear knot" said the hangel.
"I is the hangel Willie John. I is a baritone in the celestial choir.
You among all weeman have bean chosen to spread the gospel in the accursed city of Clougher.
Bee without fear! I Wille John shall be by your side. Guiding your step and speaking direct from your holy, flapping gub".
And low it came two pass.
Next morn I tied my sandles with binder-twine, picked up my staff and set out for the evil city of-Clougher.
On the stroke of noon, I mounted the cenotaph and spoke thus.
"Gulpins and scumbags of Clougher. You could have been the knew Jerusalem, but you turned away from Jehovah and turned this small market town in Tyrone into another Soddem and Begorrgh.
"REPEANT! I roared.
"Or the Lord God almighty wool lose his rag and smite you with a smite the like of which the world has never scene.
Do youse want too burn for all eternally?"
"Faith, Hope and Charity" I yelled
These three are good. But the gratest
of these three--is-chastity!.
Behold I say onto you you. Youse who commit sins of the flesh, will be hung from your forks on crooks over the hot burning fires of-hell. And knot for just a day. Knot for just a weak. Knot for just a year, but etermity.
Covet knot your neighbours ass" I roared. Better for you to wash your own ass with strong lifeboy soap and a jap of Dettol.
Take knot the Lords name in vain. Just yell, cricky, jeepers, sugar or flip.
Honour thy daddy and thy mammy. Never put them in a home, until acute Do-lallyness has set in.
If you covet your neighbours wife, go and get your eyes tested. For Clougher abounds with dumplins of unparrelled uglyness.
Do know steel-unless your giro is late.
Do knot indulge in strong drink. Make your own, its cheeper.
Go two mass on Sunday and holidays of oblation unless you are bluttered.
Spread knot calamity.It is wild hard to cure and is the result of sex with strangers.
Never suffer a witch to live".
That was then the men in white coats came. Laid hands on me and took me to a plaice of menthol confinement.
For three daze I was poked and prodded bye doctors, nurses and people who just came into visit a nut case.
After three daze I arose and made my my home. Praising the Lord and cutting nettles in half with my holy staff.
Now people come in kars to stare at me.
"What did you come two sea" I cry.
"A Reid blowing in the wind?"
"KNOW!" they yell.
"We came to sea Rosie Ryan the loony in the bog".
Wool Rosie Ryan end up another Martha for her faith?
Who no's. Two all my detracters I say.
"GO FORTH AND MULTIPY!".
"All that I am
All that I do
And if I have a screw loose
I offer it to you".
Saturday, 12 June 2010
PICKED UP BY THE FUZZ
Oh the shame Gerry. Oh the ig-no me. Oh the disgrace. My sun Bon Jovi and me were nicked for shop lifting! We is knot crooks Gerry. There is
Ex-ten-u-ating circumstances witch I must inform you off. The cub needed trousers Gerry. His old one's were only held together by the odd fibre and the power of prayer. Sew on Fryday morning, brite and early, Bon Jovi and me hit the Hi road two Clougher.
As we strolled along I commented on the wide range of bird life and the different varieties of flora and fauna. As I was commenting on a particulary lush bunch of Sue-Lugs Bon Jovi exploded.
"In the name of God" roared the cub.
"Wool you keep your big yapper shut. All you have done since we left home is, YAP! YAP! YAP!"
"How darest thou" I yelled
"Is that any way for a mail off spring too talk two one's mater? Another outburst like that my lad and you'll be picking your teeth up off the road".
Bon Jovi threw off his coat. Leaped out to the middle of the road and roared.
"Bring it on! Bring it on big mouth. By the hot fires of hell, I wool shut that big gub of yours wance and for all".
I struggled out of my late mammies brown duffle coat. Put up my fists and yelled.
"Bye the sacret hart of saint John Plunket I'll nock you into the middle of next weak you gulpin".
The fight was on. Bon Jovi and I circled each other warily. I threw out a searching rite. Bon Jovi parried it. Bon Jovi came back with a left that grazed my temple.
I had my head on my chest. Bon Jovi's fists hung low. The cub was trying to make a fool of me. I let go a hay-maker. Bon Jovi skipped back and did an Ali shuffle in front of a whin bush.
We came together, our heads clashed and we backed away. I rushed at the cub and ran straight in to a left hook up the kisser. I spat out blood and too teeth. Bon Jovi smiled above his bobbing, weaving fists.
We came together again and Bon Jovi unleashed a flurry of punches into my bread basket. I gasped and panted. I was getting it tite. Bon Jovi came in for the kill. Slipped on cow skitter and I got him with an uppercut rite on the point of his dirty chin. The cub went down like a bag of spuds. I sat panting on the verge until the cub came round. We then continued on our way to Clougher-in silence.
"The colour of these trousers is lovat" said wee Maggie McSpoon who works in Patel's haber-dashery.
"Do try them on Bon Jovi" I enthused.
"They wood complaiment your puce gansey exquitely".
As Bon Jovi was trying on the knew trousers. The old trousers gave up the ghost and fell apart. Maggie McSpoon gingerly picked up the remmants of the old trousers with a pear of tongs and ran out to the back yard to put them in the bin. The up shot was . I payed for the knew lovat trousers and Bon Jovi wore them home.
THEN! CALAMITY! As Bon Jovi and me walked past Clougher city limits. The arse of Bon Jovi's knew trousers began to squeel like a stuck pig.
Soon six police cars roared too a halt and Bon Jovi and me was surrounded by a gang of PICKS, PEES, PIERS, or what ever the hell the RUC call themselves these days. Mother and sun was arrested and held in Hi security confinement. I protested us innonence.
The police brought in wee Maggie Mc Spoon and she said, I had payed for the lovat trousers, but she had knot taken the security tag from the lovat trousers.
The police threw me and Bon Jovi out and banged the big gait behind us.
"High Columbo" I roared.
"How about an apology and a lift home?"
I was told to move along, or we wood be nicked again.
I don't no who I'm madder at, the police or wee Maggie McSpoon. Needless two say a sharp letter is on its way to auld David Ford, the minister for piece and injustice.
But the lovat trousers look lovely on the cub.
They really bring out the colour of his dung brown eyes.
I is-Rosie Ryan. XXX
Ex-ten-u-ating circumstances witch I must inform you off. The cub needed trousers Gerry. His old one's were only held together by the odd fibre and the power of prayer. Sew on Fryday morning, brite and early, Bon Jovi and me hit the Hi road two Clougher.
As we strolled along I commented on the wide range of bird life and the different varieties of flora and fauna. As I was commenting on a particulary lush bunch of Sue-Lugs Bon Jovi exploded.
"In the name of God" roared the cub.
"Wool you keep your big yapper shut. All you have done since we left home is, YAP! YAP! YAP!"
"How darest thou" I yelled
"Is that any way for a mail off spring too talk two one's mater? Another outburst like that my lad and you'll be picking your teeth up off the road".
Bon Jovi threw off his coat. Leaped out to the middle of the road and roared.
"Bring it on! Bring it on big mouth. By the hot fires of hell, I wool shut that big gub of yours wance and for all".
I struggled out of my late mammies brown duffle coat. Put up my fists and yelled.
"Bye the sacret hart of saint John Plunket I'll nock you into the middle of next weak you gulpin".
The fight was on. Bon Jovi and I circled each other warily. I threw out a searching rite. Bon Jovi parried it. Bon Jovi came back with a left that grazed my temple.
I had my head on my chest. Bon Jovi's fists hung low. The cub was trying to make a fool of me. I let go a hay-maker. Bon Jovi skipped back and did an Ali shuffle in front of a whin bush.
We came together, our heads clashed and we backed away. I rushed at the cub and ran straight in to a left hook up the kisser. I spat out blood and too teeth. Bon Jovi smiled above his bobbing, weaving fists.
We came together again and Bon Jovi unleashed a flurry of punches into my bread basket. I gasped and panted. I was getting it tite. Bon Jovi came in for the kill. Slipped on cow skitter and I got him with an uppercut rite on the point of his dirty chin. The cub went down like a bag of spuds. I sat panting on the verge until the cub came round. We then continued on our way to Clougher-in silence.
"The colour of these trousers is lovat" said wee Maggie McSpoon who works in Patel's haber-dashery.
"Do try them on Bon Jovi" I enthused.
"They wood complaiment your puce gansey exquitely".
As Bon Jovi was trying on the knew trousers. The old trousers gave up the ghost and fell apart. Maggie McSpoon gingerly picked up the remmants of the old trousers with a pear of tongs and ran out to the back yard to put them in the bin. The up shot was . I payed for the knew lovat trousers and Bon Jovi wore them home.
THEN! CALAMITY! As Bon Jovi and me walked past Clougher city limits. The arse of Bon Jovi's knew trousers began to squeel like a stuck pig.
Soon six police cars roared too a halt and Bon Jovi and me was surrounded by a gang of PICKS, PEES, PIERS, or what ever the hell the RUC call themselves these days. Mother and sun was arrested and held in Hi security confinement. I protested us innonence.
The police brought in wee Maggie Mc Spoon and she said, I had payed for the lovat trousers, but she had knot taken the security tag from the lovat trousers.
The police threw me and Bon Jovi out and banged the big gait behind us.
"High Columbo" I roared.
"How about an apology and a lift home?"
I was told to move along, or we wood be nicked again.
I don't no who I'm madder at, the police or wee Maggie McSpoon. Needless two say a sharp letter is on its way to auld David Ford, the minister for piece and injustice.
But the lovat trousers look lovely on the cub.
They really bring out the colour of his dung brown eyes.
I is-Rosie Ryan. XXX
Wednesday, 9 June 2010
ROSIE RYAN'S FRENCH LETTER
Bon jour, enchante de faire votre connaissance.
Comment allez-vous? Vous etes tres gentil.
Est-ce que je vous gene? Il fait beau.
Ecoutez, regardez. Qu'est que c'est que ca en bas?
Vous plaisantez. Allez-vous en. Laissez-moi tranquille. C'est tres ennuyeax. Je vous ai deja paye. Lassez-moi passer! Qu est consulat britannique?
Qo se trouve le marche? Je veux acheter- est-ce que vous ven-dez?, des dessous de soie des nylons, des bas de soie. Un soutien-gorge, une gaine, brode a la main. De la dentelle, un sac a main. Un chapeau de paille avec une voilette. C'est la grande mode. J'ai besoin d'un costume taileur avec une jupe plissee.
Je veux me faire faire une robe. Le col rond le decollete. Un mateau noir double de soir. Un mantau de fourrure, le mesure, le tour de poitrine, de taille, de hanches, la taille la longeur de manche, la geur d'epaules.
Le produits de beaute. Un flacon de parfum. Le rouge a levres, la poudre de riz. Le poudre de talc, la houppe. Le vernis a ongles voy-ant, transparent, rouge fonce. Des sels pour la bain. Une barrette, des epingles a cheveux une pince des bigoudis.
Je veux manger quelque chose de bein simple. Cesi n'est pas frais. Ce morceau est trop gras. Donnez-moi du maigre. Ceci ne sent pas tres bon. L'addition s'il vous plait. Le service est-il compris? Vous pouvez gardez le reste.J'ai laisse mes lunettes dans le lavobo.
Quelqu'un cet homme m'a vole.
AU SECOURS! AU FEU! AU VOLEUR!
Qui etes-vous? Je ne vous connais pas . Je ne veux pas vous parler. Laissez-moi tranquille. En voila assez. Allez-vous en. C'est en maintenant. C'est tres ennuyeux. Qu est le britannique?
Idiot! Doucement! Remettez-vous. Taisez-vous. Ca alors c'est trop fort. ZUT!
Je veux faire serrer ceci . Combien de temps dois-je attendre? Qu'y a-t-il?
Nous sommes trempes jusqu'aux os. Qu puis -je acheter du petrole? Je voudrais bien louer une bibyclette. Combien coute-t-il par jour? Nous nous sommes egares. Jouez-vous au tennis? J'ai une raquette de tennis et des balles. Qu se trouvent les courts de tennis?
J'etais ici en dix-neuf cent quarante. En temps de guerre. Je suis ancien soldat veteran. Les tranchees de premiere-ligne. Vacant, places debout seulement. CHIEN MECHANT!
Je suis Madame Rosie Ryan. Y a-t-il des lettres pour moi? ZUT! ZUT! ZUT!
Faites preparer la note s'il vous plait. Je dois partir demain de bonne heure.
Merci et au revoir.
JAMAIS! JAMAIS! JAMAIS!!!
Madame Rosie Ryan xxx
Comment allez-vous? Vous etes tres gentil.
Est-ce que je vous gene? Il fait beau.
Ecoutez, regardez. Qu'est que c'est que ca en bas?
Vous plaisantez. Allez-vous en. Laissez-moi tranquille. C'est tres ennuyeax. Je vous ai deja paye. Lassez-moi passer! Qu est consulat britannique?
Qo se trouve le marche? Je veux acheter- est-ce que vous ven-dez?, des dessous de soie des nylons, des bas de soie. Un soutien-gorge, une gaine, brode a la main. De la dentelle, un sac a main. Un chapeau de paille avec une voilette. C'est la grande mode. J'ai besoin d'un costume taileur avec une jupe plissee.
Je veux me faire faire une robe. Le col rond le decollete. Un mateau noir double de soir. Un mantau de fourrure, le mesure, le tour de poitrine, de taille, de hanches, la taille la longeur de manche, la geur d'epaules.
Le produits de beaute. Un flacon de parfum. Le rouge a levres, la poudre de riz. Le poudre de talc, la houppe. Le vernis a ongles voy-ant, transparent, rouge fonce. Des sels pour la bain. Une barrette, des epingles a cheveux une pince des bigoudis.
Je veux manger quelque chose de bein simple. Cesi n'est pas frais. Ce morceau est trop gras. Donnez-moi du maigre. Ceci ne sent pas tres bon. L'addition s'il vous plait. Le service est-il compris? Vous pouvez gardez le reste.J'ai laisse mes lunettes dans le lavobo.
Quelqu'un cet homme m'a vole.
AU SECOURS! AU FEU! AU VOLEUR!
Qui etes-vous? Je ne vous connais pas . Je ne veux pas vous parler. Laissez-moi tranquille. En voila assez. Allez-vous en. C'est en maintenant. C'est tres ennuyeux. Qu est le britannique?
Idiot! Doucement! Remettez-vous. Taisez-vous. Ca alors c'est trop fort. ZUT!
Je veux faire serrer ceci . Combien de temps dois-je attendre? Qu'y a-t-il?
Nous sommes trempes jusqu'aux os. Qu puis -je acheter du petrole? Je voudrais bien louer une bibyclette. Combien coute-t-il par jour? Nous nous sommes egares. Jouez-vous au tennis? J'ai une raquette de tennis et des balles. Qu se trouvent les courts de tennis?
J'etais ici en dix-neuf cent quarante. En temps de guerre. Je suis ancien soldat veteran. Les tranchees de premiere-ligne. Vacant, places debout seulement. CHIEN MECHANT!
Je suis Madame Rosie Ryan. Y a-t-il des lettres pour moi? ZUT! ZUT! ZUT!
Faites preparer la note s'il vous plait. Je dois partir demain de bonne heure.
Merci et au revoir.
JAMAIS! JAMAIS! JAMAIS!!!
Madame Rosie Ryan xxx
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