Memories of the Highlands

[Barry Hodges]

Whiniver ah hear any gadge talkin' aboot the Heelands
it brings a tear tae mah eye and ah cannae stop frae greetin'
so pin back yer feckin' lugs and lissen tae mah tragic tale
d'ye not ken what ah'm tellin' ye,ye daft radge, eh?
Ah wuz gaein' out wi a bonnie fat lassie called Beth
(an' ah kin tell ye she was an awfy guid ride in the scratcher)
so when she conned hersel' a guid handoot frae the Social Security
ah thought ah'd tak' hir fer a wee holiday far awa'
frae the feckin' polis on her rundoon crappy Scheme,
an' mebbe we could wean hir oaf the Eckies.

So we checked into a B&B wi' an ay sorft double bed
and just after ah'd goat mah hole away wi' hir
Beth wuz lookin oot o' the windae and she saw this huge felly
built as big as ay a shithoose door giein' a puir skinny wee lassie
a guid thumping and an ay fierce kickin' on hir erse an' aww.
-What the make love roughly d'ye think you're deein? Beth yells oot,
but the mad bastard didnae bother answer tae hir,
which Beth said wuz ay oot o' order and she was nae havin' it,
so the daft hoor pulls hir cardie oan and gies doonstairs
tae sort the fecker oot (anticipatin' erroneously ays be doon too).

Ah huvtae sey as ah watched through the windae safely
that Beth was as braw as braw cuid be that day
but none th' less, the huge felly kicked her wee heid in.
An', if ah'm hornest w' mahsel, ah huvtae admit that Beth
wuz feckin' askin' fer it, interferin' between a felly
an' huz wee hoor wi'oot as much as by yir leave.
O what a sad sight there wuz doon thair on the groond,
twa lassies feckin' spread-eagled on the purple heather
wi' their tartan skirts up roon their pudgy waists and
wi' their barry fannies display'd for the world tae see.

Ah can tell ye ah totally pished meself wi' terror
when ah saw the big felly lookin' up at mah windae
so, deciding that discretion was the better part o' valour
(if ye ken the cliché) ah kept mah heid well doon
as ah didnae want mah bawws kicked oot mah breeks
by some lumbering feckin' monster o' a Heeland brute.
In any case, wee Beth had left hir purse behind
wi' at least a hundred poonds, so I kent guid' n' well
ah cuid huv a slap-up meal and an undisturbed nicht's kip
before takin' the bus back tae Auld Reekie in the morn.

Attachments:

[I-Love-My-Midget]

Not much about midgets here. I tend to be excited by any mention of little women.

[spamheid]

Whit a bonny wee pome! Pits me in mind o' the works o' the monarch o' the glen, Mad McShuggie McHaggis o' the McTumshie clan. Ah notice that ye didnae state precisely whit airt o' the Heelans ye visited. Could it hiv been the wee hamlet o' Snatchyerfannie?

[Edna Sweetlove]

I will have to ask Barry to be a bit more specific about the location of his adventure. I suspect Pitlochry as I saw several giant Highlanders beating up some women there once after a Hunt Ball.