my ain folk

Coffee with Vivian Clarke and Uncle Scutch.
Mr Clarke is the proprietor of Clarke's Menswear Newbridge.
Uncle Scutch is himself.
Both seem rather happy that a man called Barack Obama has recently won something.
I am absenting myself from their conversation by flicking idly through the pages of  an anti Catholic gazetter styled the Irish Independent.
While excoriating the Irish Independent on occasion for its advocacy of drugs culture, abortion, sexual hedonism, atheism generally along with its ongoing forty year anti Catholic kulturkampf in particular, I have more recently developed oddly paternal feelings for it.
My paternal feelings stem from the fact that the Irish government requires me to finance it by refusing to call in the Independent Groups billion dollar loans from the bankrupt idiot banks that the Irish government has used more of my money to purchase supposedly on my behalf but in reality on behalf of the Free Masons, atheistic Marxians and devil worshippers who run Ireland from the shadows of the Civil Service, parliament, the media and the Judiciary.
I mean I don't want to go casting no aspoyshuns.
Anyhoo.
Me n Uncle Scutch n Vivian Clarke are quaffing coffees in the Costa Cafe at the White Water Centre.
The Uncle and the Clarke are quite happy with themselves.
I am quite grumpy.
Their words drift to my ears as though from afar.
They are no longer talking about the American elections.
Now they are discussing a recent brawl in a pub in my home town of Kilcullen.
"What happened?" queries Uncle Scutch.
"A couple of Naas hards went after Ron Goblett," explains Mr Clarke.
"Goblett is tough enough himself," sez the Uncle.
"He does Kung Fu," affirms Mr Clarke.
"So how did it turn out?" sez the Uncle.
"The hards squared up to Goblett," expounds Vivian. "And Goblett went into one of his Kung Fu poses. You know. A stance, he calls it. It looked very dramatic. Then one of the hards gave him a kick in the bawls and Goblett went over like a sack of spuds."
There was a pause in their conversation.
"What do you think of that!" wondered Mr Clarke with a rhetorical flourish.
"I'm just kind of surprised that in this modern age a kick in the bawls still works," answered Uncle Scutch ruminatively.