Burns! babie? Burns!

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okay, in Cavan we’re cultured though it didint rub off on me, but with some hard work and a good grounding in Catholicism, i crawled my way out . . . i managed to get a job and a bus ticket to Dublin where i slept around and had lots of fun and after a while this culture creeped up on me.  Now! eyem full of Art and Music and Poetry, shi’ite! eyem like our President and his wife Sabinna, proficient in talking crap . . . and Moo Moo is too, though sheez better at it than me.  

Moo Moo is very talented and as we’re going to our first Burns Night this coming Saturday (Robert Burns. Scottish Poet, dead) Wifey decided to write an’ickle poem for the occasion that hopefully sheel recite, in the worst possible Scottish accent anyone anywhere has ever heard.

*

A Wee Dittie Poem

Ruth Moo Moo Mackin.

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Tenite eyel recite a wee dittie

‘Bout Scotland (I’ll strive to be witty)

Where we love a good figh’

Tho’ ar fuhball team’s . . . pretty average . . .

As bad as Birmingham City

***

We hate Brits as much as you Paddies

Weer hirsute, both lassies and laddies

Fuck th’haters and blamers

We all love the Proclaimers

Nah jus’ th’auld Mammies and Daddies

***

Ar clymat is rainfall or blizzard

We dine on intestine and gizzard

Like th’bauld William Wallace

Weer fiercesome an’lawless

An’ashamed by tha’juvenile wizard!

***

Ar writers weer all pretty trite

Bu’tha’ Adam Smith bloke was alright

A true Scot from baptism

He invented capitalism

Mus’be why weer all bloody so tigh’!

***

From England we wanna be free

Sod the Queen! Cricket and cups of Tea!

If we cud steal, beg or borra’

Weed leave ‘em temara

An’awl get roarin’ drunk on Whisky!

***

My wife is fookin’ deadly and eyem a lucky man . . .

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