Tarzan's Tripes Forever, and Other Feghoots

The Web's Original Shaggy Dog Story Archive


Bobbing Along

Category: Rated G

This is a new one from Bob Levi [boblevi@mindspring.com] who reports a friend sent it to him. Very excellent and thanks.


An Englishman is being shown around a Scottish hospital during the Great War. At the end of his visit, he is shown into a ward with a number of patients who show no obvious signs of injury.

He goes to examine the first man he sees, and the man proclaims: “Fair fa’ yer sonsie face, Great chieftain e’ the puddin’ race! Aboon them a’ ye tak your place, painch tripe or thairm: Weel are ye wordy o’ a grace as lang’s my arm.”

The Englishman, somewhat taken aback, goes to the next patient,and immediately the patient launches into: “Some hae meat, and cannaeat, And some wad eat that want it, But we hae meat and we can eat, Andsae the Lord be thankit.”

This continues with the next patient: “Wee sleekit cow’rin tim’rousbeastie, O what a panic’s in thy breastie! Thou need na start awa saehasty, Wi bickering brattle I wad be laith to run and chase thee, Wi murdering prattle!”

“Well,” the Englishman mutters to his Scottish colleague, “I see you saved the psychiatric ward for the last.”

“Nay, nay,” the Scottish doctor corrected him, “this is the Serious Burns unit.”

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