bubbly jock wrote: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
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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
Aye bubbly, the dark nights and mornings can be stark enough, without the thought of having your neck stretched beyond redemption and gizzards pulled by some phsycho killer, hell bent on stuffing his own alimentary canal and those of his nearest & dearest, with your finest white meat.
I spotted the following picture in the 'Turkey Telegraph' last weekend and thougth that it was quite apt.
It just goes to show: Next time you order mince doon the Longrow, make sure that your back's to the wall and there's naebody or naething dangling from the ceiling!
On another note, did you see that Oban forum highlighted by Iona. It was full of exciting characters like 'Nick' & 'Nick' and I'm nearly sure that there was another 'Nick'. Aye, it averages about 3 postings a year, and most of them are by some poor soul called 'Nick', who's crying out like 'Miranda the Tempest' in an effort to entice posters who have strayed off their path, to founder on his forum. Not for one minute would I even suggest that it's dull as dish-water, but it did remind of me of thon film 'Misery' with the poor man lying in the bed and all the doors of the house bolted from the inside and out. Seems that 'Nick' pulled his most read, albeit controversial thread as it was getting out of hand. And what was it about: 'Kintyre'. There was one noteworthy cheeky 'B', but he was sorted by our Davie P. Imagine calling yourself: 'Don't VisitKintyre'. I hope it's naw a former correspondent from this forum bearing a grudge.
I mean Oban only has one distillery and doesn't even have a smokehoose. The nearest they ever got was the day room in the old County Chest Hospital. The nurses used to leave their blocks of cheddar in a ventilated box that had been strategically screwed to the ceiling, at a point where the highest concentration of smoke could be found. They would have it roasted on toast when all the patients had turned blue and been oxtered back to their oxygen masks, preparing their lungs for the next, and possibly last, blast of tar & nicotine. The nurses were perplexed for a while after smoking was banned in the day rooms. However, luckily for them, the secret of the Bochan Cheese from the Roading wafted with osmotic pressure to the unenlightened. Initially small amounts were circulated through the Street Markets in the West End of Glasgow. Such was the level of smoke, that a gram here and there, eventually found there way onto the Oban train and up to the hospitals. I expect Auld Pop might also have smuggled a quarter pound or two into one of his auld cronies at some point or another.
Anyway, Nick might as well just put a link on his front page straight to Davie P's site, in an effort to arouse and inject a bit of fresh interest. On the other hand, Davie could put some of his fence sitters up there for a week or two, where they will feel quite at home. Anyone that steps out of line, and there are one or two contenders, could be automatically re-directed to Inveraray for the first offence, then Oban if they choose to persist.
Bubbly, at least you and me will be OK, but thon Snoddy, Wetman, Oorly Gourly, Malky, Ninja Mania and Bitter End better watch their step. Auld Pop could be on ground as shoogly as his knees, but at least he could plead amnesia......