Polarized sundlasses

[Andy Macfarlane]

Ah bless....

All this talk of the sun is confusing our poor Scottish members.

It's that scarry yellow thing in the sky that you saw on hollidat Andy.....

 

I threw stones at it and sacrificed a lamb but I'm not sure what the Gods were trying to tell me.

[Steve Walker]

To pound up the lamb with its innards and some grain and stuff it into its own stomach?

[arbocop]

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,

Great chieftain o the puddin'-race!

Aboon them a' ye tak your place,

Painch, tripe, or thairm:

Weel are ye worthy o' a grace

As lang's my arm.

[JV44]

You been drinking Mike?

[arbocop]

You been drinking Mike?

No, but I had a haggis on Robbie Burns night and as is the tradition - for the Scots anyway - recited a bit of Robby Burns before we ate it. My son thought I was bonkers - even more than usual. As we had strayed of the original subject onto the sacrificial killing of lambs to make into haggis I thought I would share it with you all.

 

a lot of the threads on AN seem to go off piste after about 6 posts, that's why I like it. This one went from sunglasses to haggis and Robbie Burns. Brilliant linking - completely unpredictable.

 

Mike

Edited February 7, 2014 by arbocop

[ayjay]

OK, so you want a Burns night joke?

 

 

A newly qualified doctor arrives for his first day at a hospital deep in the Welsh valleys. He is met by one of the sisters, who has been given the task of showing him around the hospital and introducing him to the staff and patients.

It is a large hospital and it takes the whole day to get round. By late afternoon they are working their way through the psychiatric block and as the time approaches for the evening meal they arrive at the last ward. They follow the dinner trolley into the ward and wait while one of the nurses lifts the lid on the food tray. To the doctor's surprise there is but a single haggis on the tray to feed a whole ward.

One of the patients moves towards the trolley in a purposeful manner, addressing the haggis:

"Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o' the puddin'-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As lang's my arm."

Before he can reach the haggis, another patient sprints forward, grabs the simple repast and dashes up the ward. He proudly holds the haggis aloft and cries out in a commanding voice:

"Some hae meat and cannae eat.
Some cannae eat that want it:
But we hae meat and we can eat,
Sae let the Lord be thankit."

At this, a kilted dervish leaps from his bed, whips a skein dubh out of his stocking and lunges at the haggis carrier. With a deft movement, the haggis bearer fends off the flashing blade with the haggis. Although this prevents any injury, it does result in the top of the haggis being hacked off. A small mouse, obviously waiting upon this event, dashes out from under a bed, grabs the loose piece of haggis and scampers up the ward, running the gauntlet of slashing claymores and hurled dirks from various patients. At the end of the ward stands a bent and wizened old man with a wild fire in his eyes. He screams at the mouse:

"Wee sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an chase thee,
Wi' murdering prattle!"

...and then dives upon the poor little mouse. With a left dummy and a right feint, the mouse dodges between the old man's legs, through a hole in the skirting board and to safety with his prize. The doctor turns to the sister and asks, "Why is this psychiatric ward so full of Scotsmen?"

"Oh no, doctor, these are not Scotsmen. They are genuine valley dwellers, born and bred," she replies. "And, anyway, this is not a psychiatric ward. It is the serious Burns unit."

 

[arbocop]

OK, so you want a Burns night

"Wee sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,

O, what a panic's in thy breastie!

Thou need na start awa sae hasty,

Wi' bickering brattle!

I wad be laith to rin an chase thee,

Wi' murdering prattle!"

...and then dives upon the poor little mouse. With a left dummy and a right feint, the mouse dodges between the old man's legs, through a hole in the skirting board and to safety with his prize. The doctor turns to the sister and asks, "Why is this psychiatric ward so full of Scotsmen?"

"Oh no, doctor, these are not Scotsmen. They are genuine valley dwellers, born and bred," she replies. "And, anyway, this is not a psychiatric ward. It is the serious Burns unit."

 

 

Wahey! Thought I was never going to get there, glad I stuck to it until the punch line.

 

Mike

[Norfolkdipper]

Loved it. Just paste3d it to my FB page.