Thursday, January 26, 2006

Humour

It has been suggested that we at "What Would Puskas Do?" are humourless, holier-than-thou types, with giant chips on our shoulders, and a paraniod self-righteousness which overspills into all aspects of our lives. This is self-evidently true, but even so, we present the following joke, topical for tonight. Or, rather, last night, since it's gone midnight. Dusted down once a year, for its annual outing. Just don't expect us to approve...

Tony Blair is being shown around a hospital. Towards
the end of his visit,
he is shown into a ward with a number of people with
no obvious signs of
injury. He goes to greet the first patient and the
chap replies:
"Fair fa' your honest 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."
Tony, being somewhat confused grins and moves on to
the next patient and
greets him. He replies:
"Some hae meat, and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it,
But we hae meat and we can eat,
And sae the Lord be thankit."
The third starts rattling off as follows:
"Wee sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an chase thee,
Wi murdering pattle!"
Tony turns to the doctor accompanying him and asks
what sort of ward this
is. A mental ward?
"No," replies the doctor,
"It's the Burns unit."

4 Comments:

Blogger plymouth rock said...

very good!

7:26 PM  
Blogger Neil said...

Nice joke. But am astounded to find the royal "we" in your intro. Any explanation? Are you becoming a TV station?

7:33 PM  
Blogger Brindle said...

Cats have nine lives. Simultaneously.

8:04 PM  
Blogger Puskas said...

Re: Royal we - there's me and there's Puskas. She has editorial control, I merely do the "grunt work"...

1:14 AM  

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