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.
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 . . .