Carradale

[oorly gourlay]

Well done bubbly for introducing a wee bit of poets' corner to the 'dale. I was researching a speech for a Burns' Supper this year and came across his "Haggis of Private McPhee" that I almost read at the supper because I enjoyed it so much. At this time of the year it is also quite poignant and appropriate.

The Haggis of Private McPhee

"Hae ye heard whit ma auld mither's postit tae me?
It fair maks me hamesick," says Private McPhee.
"And whit did she send ye?" says Private McPhun,
As he cockit his rifle and bleezed at a Hun.
"A haggis! A HAGGIS!" says Private McPhee;
"The brawest big haggis I ever did see.
And think! it's the morn when fond memory turns
Tae haggis and whuskey -- the Birthday o' Burns.
We maun find a dram; then we'll ca' in the rest
O' the lads, and we'll hae a Burns' Nicht wi' the best."

"Be ready at sundoon," snapped Sergeant McCole;
"I want you two men for the List'nin' Patrol."
Then Private McPhee looked at Private McPhun:
"I'm thinkin', ma lad, we're confoundedly done."
Then Private McPhun looked at Private McPhee:
"I'm thinkin' auld chap, it's a' aff wi' oor spree."
But up spoke their crony, wee Wullie McNair:
"Jist lea' yer braw haggis for me tae prepare;
And as for the dram, if I search the camp roun',
We maun hae a drappie tae jist haud it doon.
Sae rin, lads, and think, though the nicht it be black,
O' the haggis that's waitin' ye when ye get back."

My! but it wis waesome on Naebuddy's Land,
And the deid they were rottin' on every hand.
And the rockets like corpse candles hauntit the sky,
And the winds o' destruction went shudderin' by.
There wis skelpin' o' bullets and skirlin' o' shells,
And breengin' o' bombs and a thoosand death-knells;
But cooryin' doon in a Jack Johnson hole
Little fashed the twa men o' the List'nin' Patrol.
For sweeter than honey and bricht as a gem
Wis the thocht o' the haggis that waitit for them.

Yet alas! in oor moments o' sunniest cheer
Calamity's aften maist cruelly near.
And while the twa talked o' their puddin' divine
The Boches below them were howkin' a mine.
And while the twa cracked o' the feast they would hae,
The fuse it wis burnin' and burnin' away.
Then sudden a roar like the thunner o' doom,
A hell-leap o' flame . . . then the wheesht o' the tomb.

"Haw, Jock! Are ye hurtit?" says Private McPhun.
"Ay, Geordie, they've got me; I'm fearin' I'm done.
It's ma leg; I'm jist thinkin' it's aff at the knee;
Ye'd best gang and leave me," says Private McPhee.
"Oh leave ye I wunna," says Private McPhun;
"And leave ye I canna, for though I micht run,
It's no faur I wud gang, it's no muckle I'd see:
I'm blindit, and that's whit's the maitter wi' me."
Then Private McPhee sadly shakit his heid:
"If we bide here for lang, we'll be bidin' for deid.
And yet, Geordie lad, I could gang weel content
If I'd tasted that haggis ma auld mither sent."
"That's droll," says McPhun; "ye've jist speakit ma mind.
Oh I ken it's a terrible thing tae be blind;
And yet it's no that that embitters ma lot --
It's missin' that braw muckle haggis ye've got."
For a while they were silent; then up once again
Spoke Private McPhee, though he whussilt wi' pain:
"And why should we miss it? Between you and me
We've legs for tae run, and we've eyes for tae see.
You lend me your shanks and I'll lend you ma sicht,
And we'll baith hae a kyte-fu' o' haggis the nicht."
Oh the sky it wis dourlike and dreepin' a wee,
When Private McPhun gruppit Private McPhee.
Oh the glaur it wis fylin' and crieshin' the grun',
When Private McPhee guidit Private McPhun.
"Keep clear o' them corpses -- they're maybe no deid!
Haud on! There's a big muckle crater aheid.
Look oot! There's a sap; we'll be haein' a coup.
A staur-shell! For Godsake! Doun, lad, on yer daup.
Bear aff tae yer richt. . . . Aw yer jist daein' fine:
Before the nicht's feenished on haggis we'll dine."

There wis death and destruction on every hand;
There wis havoc and horror on Naebuddy's Land.
And the shells bickered doun wi' a crump and a glare,
And the hameless wee bullets were dingin' the air.
Yet on they went staggerin', cooryin' doun
When the stutter and cluck o' a Maxim crept roun'.
And the legs o' McPhun they were sturdy and stoot,
And McPhee on his back kept a bonnie look-oot.
"On, on, ma brave lad! We're no faur frae the goal;
I can hear the braw sweerin' o' Sergeant McCole."

But strength has its leemit, and Private McPhun,
Wi' a sab and a curse fell his length on the grun'.
Then Private McPhee shoutit doon in his ear:
"Jist think o' the haggis! I smell it from here.
It's gushin' wi' juice, it's embaumin' the air;
It's steamin' for us, and we're -- jist -- aboot -- there."
Then Private McPhun answers: "Dommit, auld chap!
For the sake o' that haggis I'll gang till I drap."
And he gets on his feet wi' a heave and a strain,
And onward he staggers in passion and pain.
And the flare and the glare and the fury increase,
Till you'd think they'd jist taken a' hell on a lease.
And on they go reelin' in peetifu' plight,
And someone is shoutin' away on their right;
And someone is runnin', and noo they can hear
A sound like a prayer and a sound like a cheer;
And swift through the crash and the flash and the din,
The lads o' the Hielands are bringin' them in.

"They're baith sairly woundit, but is it no droll
Hoo they rave aboot haggis?" says Sergeant McCole.
When hirplin alang comes wee Wullie McNair,
And they a' wonnert why he wis greetin' sae sair.
And he says: "I'd jist liftit it oot o' the pot,
And there it lay steamin' and savoury hot,
When sudden I dooked at the fleech o' a shell,
And it -- DRAPPED ON THE HAGGIS AND DINGED IT TAE HELL."

And oh but the lads were fair taken aback;
Then sudden the order wis passed tae attack,
And up from the trenches like lions they leapt,
And on through the nicht like a torrent they swept.
On, on, wi' their bayonets thirstin' before!
On, on tae the foe wi' a rush and a roar!
And wild to the welkin their battle-cry rang,
And doon on the Boches like tigers they sprang:
And there wisna a man but had death in his ee,
For he thocht o' the haggis o' Private McPhee.

oorly

[Ticketty Boo!]

Chust sublime Oorly. I'll try and get the weans tae learn it for the Bells!

Any merr o' the same ilk?

[oorly gourlay]

Thanks Ticketty, but credit to bubbly for reminding me. Another classic on a Scottish theme is The Ballad of How MacPherson Held the Floor but if I posted it on here it would take up about two pages and you never know who might be looking over your shoulder on here now. Try googling for it, the Yukon Ballads and Rhymes of a Red Cross Man, they are all worth a read. I was always aware of the Yukon Ballads but I only found the other works this year. The man is up there along with Rabbie.

Enjoy,

oorly

[Bochan Mor]

Dear dear, Dorian, have you not sussed it out yet???? did you not see how Auld Pop had managed to block this thread from the boys, for 9, yes 9 hours. Surely i have set a new record for being the person, who kept the dale boys quite for the longest period off time. You may not have noticed, but they will not reply or respond to my posts, so i bet they love you, for breaking the spell. Oh well it was fun while it lasted, but now its time to get on with my life, as short as it may be. I will leave youse alone now Gentlemen.

What a cheeky auld rascal that Take-a-Pop is. I was absolutely bealing when I found out that he wasn't who I thought he was and that all along he had been taking the rip out of bubbly and myself. I expect he's up at Wellpark on a regular basis, heckling and shouting at the poor souls that have had about as much heckling and shouting as they can take, and thats just from their own backroom boys.

I've calmed down considerably, but for a while there, I'd severly contemplated taking Lea-Gull advice (For the un-enlightened, you get this free at the back of the wheelhouse of the Sheromhalidh, in between tows).

However, you know, there's a definite limit to the amount of heckling and cutting remarks that sensitive souls like bubbly & myself can cope with. Some would say that we've brought it upon ourselves just by logging onto this forum. Nobody invited us here, or even asked us to return for that matter, but its become like a drug. We cann't live with it, and cann't live without it.

It's a wonder that bubbly can get through the day with some of the fearful things that people have contemplated inflicting on him. It could be worse; he could be sweltered flipping burgers out in Philadelphia I suppose!

[take_a_pop]

Sum dey, a jeest doe no, whoos whoo, an whoos naw whoo.................. Gentlemen.

[take_a_pop]

Now then gentlemen, i did what you asked, do i get into the fold or not,?

[Bochan Mor]

Aye Auld Pop, come away ben the fold!

[Bitter End]

Beware o a Bochan Fold ! ther is no way oot! Ye'll end up lik a mushroom -jist sittin in the derk no know'n whit the hell is gaun oan--then a flash o licht a shovel o shicht an back in the dark again

[morenish]

you boys need agents, why sit in the dark handlin yersells

but anybody wantin shicht its £1.00 a shovelfull, excludin vat
(value added tax, dorian)
but be advised it can only be transported in sealed containers strapped down to the floor of a trailer, escort vehicles, front and back with flashing orange lights,must be used.
the quantity shall not exceed 1 shovellfull in case of spillage, movement of affore mentioned materialcan only be attempted after proper risk assesment forms have been submitted in triplicate to the lochgilphead office of SEPA
all vehicles must comply with current legislation for the purpose of shifting hazardus waste.
fully comprihensive insurance can be obtained from the NFU of scotland
(national farmers union, dorian though somtimes refered to as" no f***** use"!)
and it's damn good for the gerdin!

[Bitter End]

By chove ah didna realise thet ye wer a licenced 'waste producer' an me thinkin thet ye ye wir chust producin a lot a load o illegal keech . Noo remember that the transport must be licenced tae, an the recipiant must hae a licence fur 'storin' it or hae an 'end user' certificate . If not the wrath o SEPA wull faal on the whole lot o us an weel aw be up in the coort ,an nae excuses accepted .

[Snoddy]

I hope that hand hygiene is being given the prominence that it deserves by the contributors to this thread, as I am becoming increasingly alarmed at the level of excrement that is floating around in a manner that potentially could lead to an epidemic.

If it's not Morenish & his side-kick Bitter End spreading their filth on the fields, then it’s Bubbly Jock and Bochan Mor spouting forth with their verbal loose stools.

To add insult to injury, we have now witnessed the arrival of a sterile, Duffle-coated, senior citizen, who has decided to out-gun them all.

I would like to propose that the EKCC considers installing steri-gel dispensers in the pavilion at Wellpark. May I also suggest that they post out steri-wipes to the afore-mentioned correspondents, inviting them to wipe down their keyboards & tongues in an effort to reduce the level of fowl effluent being produced.

P.S. Dorian, heaven forbid that I ever return to this mortal earth in the image of the mischief maker that is Take_A (Couldn't box eggs)_Pop.

I know which flue to jab on him!

Edited as per the instructions of Rake_That_Crop

[take_a_pop]

Dear Dr Snoby, heavens forbid, how could such an Auld man like myself, even consider, challenging, 2 of this sites finest mouthers. I have just made my peace, with these 2 gentlemen, and now find myself luxuriating, within their fold. Now that i have reached this high level of status, i can sit back and enjoy the trimmings that is bestowed upon such an elite band.
Now auld, yes i may be, but senile, and a bucket mouth, i am not. Perhaps you could edit that slightly, before i have to track you down a give you a jab of my own. If you get my drift.
This could be your pick me up, or maybe knock you down, prescription, and just what the doctor didnt order.

[bubbly jock]

Bochan mor

Heres a wee Xmas card for you
Watch out for BaaRamEwe

Jeest in case I'm taken alive by russtlers

Be nice to your turkeys this Christmas.
Cos' turkeys just wanna have fun
Turkeys are cool, turkeys are wicked
And every turkey has a Mum.
Be nice to your turkeys this Christmas
Don't eat it, keep it alive,
It could be yur mate, and not on your plate
Say, Yo! Turkey I'm on your side."
I got lots of friends who are turkeys
An all of them fear Christmas time,
They wanna enjoy it, but humans destroyed it
And humans are out of their mind,
Yeah, I got lots of friends who are turkeys
They all have a right to a life,
Not to be caged up and genetically made up
By any farmer and his wife."


bubbly

[Ninja Mania]

Noo bubbly, i hae this wee problum,
and share it wae yoo is a must,
Ma bid for ma ane xmas dinnar
haze empteed my wee wumins purse,

because oh oor little dalema
an the fact thut ma wells, noo run dry
means yule naw see anuther new crismas,
perhaps, yoo shuid sit doon an cry.

A ken that yuid lake to have freedum,
tae roam aroon, and jeest cluck,
well am sorry tae tell ye this bubbly,
but yuv jeest aboot, ran oot oh luck.

But bubbly, theres wan consolation,
when yur erse is stuffed full on ma plate,
as am stickin, ma knife in yur parsons,
al toast ye, and say ye wur great.

noo bubbles ave nathen against yeh,
but the bairns,hav got tae be fed.
an this is the rite time oh year noo
fur turkeys lik yoo, tae be dead.

noo since this cuid be yur last xmas
an yur lakes, we ma naw see again
can i wish you a very nice christmas, and
dae yae naw wish yuid been borin a HEN.

[take_a_pop]

Nice one NM, a new Rabbie has been born, well, maybe not.
Hope i never get on your wrong side, hate too think what i would get from you. Maybe we should get you into the fold, with the rest of us Gentlemen. What do you think boys ?.