the snurds ride out

Wandered into the pharmacy looking for some contraceptives to disapprove of.
My bearded cousin approacheth.
"Joe McKenna is in town," sez he.
"Ah," sez I.
"Were you talking to him?"
"Er no."

"You sound like you don't want to talk to him," muses the bearded cousin.
"Really," parrieth I.
"Now why would that be?" persisteth the cousin.
"Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that his daddy is described on his tombstone as Northern Division Commander of the IRA," sez I.
"That normally wouldn't stop you."
"Ah it might yeah."
"I'd have thought you'd be interested in a chat with a person who has such a public profile as a Christian," comments the cousin.
"He is to the Christian religion what Officer Kadorsky is to the police force," comments me.
"Kadorsky has retired."
"Retired from what?"
"Okay okay. So you're not a fan of McKenna?"
"All that glisters is not gold."
"Eh."
"He is an ipsissimus."
"What's that?"
"Ah don't worry about it. According to the more respected horror movies, you should be alright as long as you don't invite him into your house,"