Body & Soul2 mins ago
happy burns' night
12 Answers
... to all of you up in the frozen North.
Burns' Night ...
Dodgy poetry ... terrible food ... but fantastic Balls.
=0)
Burns' Night ...
Dodgy poetry ... terrible food ... but fantastic Balls.
=0)
Answers
Best Answer
No best answer has yet been selected by joggerjayne. Once a best answer has been selected, it will be shown here.
For more on marking an answer as the "Best Answer", please visit our FAQ.I was in Robbie Burns house (museum) Attached to a pub...haha
My Dad's mate took me to Scotland (probably wouldn't be allowed now) I was about 15 at the time. He had no kids and treated me and my sister as if we were his own. He wanted me to meet his mother.......OMG...the food was gross....yuk yuk yuk puke
My Dad's mate took me to Scotland (probably wouldn't be allowed now) I was about 15 at the time. He had no kids and treated me and my sister as if we were his own. He wanted me to meet his mother.......OMG...the food was gross....yuk yuk yuk puke
> The poetry might as well be in Swahili for me...Don't understand a 'king word of it:-)
What a stupid comment! Which 'king word of the following do you not understand?
O Mary, at thy window be!
It is the wish'd the trysted hour.
Those smiles and glances let me see,
That makes the miser's treasure poor.
> He invents words to make rhymes ... like "curple" and "breastie"
http://wiki.answers.c...vented_by_Shakespeare
> We could all write poetry if we were allowed to make up words!
Go on, then...
> (markrae will disagree with this analysis)
I wonder why...?
What a stupid comment! Which 'king word of the following do you not understand?
O Mary, at thy window be!
It is the wish'd the trysted hour.
Those smiles and glances let me see,
That makes the miser's treasure poor.
> He invents words to make rhymes ... like "curple" and "breastie"
http://wiki.answers.c...vented_by_Shakespeare
> We could all write poetry if we were allowed to make up words!
Go on, then...
> (markrae will disagree with this analysis)
I wonder why...?
Barrack Obama is visiting a Glasgow hospital
He enters a ward full of patients with no obvious sign of injury or illness,
He greets one.
The patient replies:
Fair fa your honest sonsie face,
Great chieftain o the puddin race,
Aboon them a ye take yer place,
Painch, tripe or thairm,
As langs my airm.
Obama is confused, so he just grins and moves on to the next patient.
The next patient responds:
Some hae meat an canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it,
But we hae meat an we can eat,
So let the Lord be thankit..
Even more confused and his grin now rictus-like, the President moves on to the next patient, who immediately begins to chant:
Wee sleekit, cowerin, timorous beasty,
O the panic in thy breasty,
Thou needna start awa sae hastie,
Wi bickering brattle
Now extremely troubled, Obama turns to the companying doctor and asks,
'Is this a psychiatric ward?'
'No,' replies the doctor, 'this is the serious Burns unit.'
He enters a ward full of patients with no obvious sign of injury or illness,
He greets one.
The patient replies:
Fair fa your honest sonsie face,
Great chieftain o the puddin race,
Aboon them a ye take yer place,
Painch, tripe or thairm,
As langs my airm.
Obama is confused, so he just grins and moves on to the next patient.
The next patient responds:
Some hae meat an canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it,
But we hae meat an we can eat,
So let the Lord be thankit..
Even more confused and his grin now rictus-like, the President moves on to the next patient, who immediately begins to chant:
Wee sleekit, cowerin, timorous beasty,
O the panic in thy breasty,
Thou needna start awa sae hastie,
Wi bickering brattle
Now extremely troubled, Obama turns to the companying doctor and asks,
'Is this a psychiatric ward?'
'No,' replies the doctor, 'this is the serious Burns unit.'