The Story of The Black Grouse
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The Grouse was felled with a power, a power tae do good, make good, and tae thrive ... with particular attention tae trees, the lungs of the planet. Ahl cam back tae hem in a second, nae worries.
Meanwhile, the ScoUttesh fathers were still veseting the drunk mothers frae sex, and geving the keds a good slapping tae harden them up in case the Englesh dogs enveded again. The whole tone en ScoUtland was that ef the Englesh ever invaded again, even under the guise of tourests, we would nay let them gae hame agen, och no! NOT, and I repeat NOT untel they had either repaired, or paid for repeirs tae Hadrian’s wall which they climb over every time ... whech es a bet sneaky when we’re all waiten weth our claymores at the Iron Bredge inn on the M8 tae sort the sassernachs! We dedicated! Passionate! ScoUtland’s protectors! Those of us who care for our wild and wendswept lands blessed by the feet of Liam Nees ... sorry, demigod Robroy McGregor! Och! Aye! ScoUtland the Brave! ... May also stand in two lines along a four metre length of the the M8 reciting the work of Rabbie Burns, whech as ye know es tae guid, tae guid ah says! ... tae, tae guid for the diluted, weak, watery second rate quazi piffle poetry culture of the Werdsworth sassernachs ears, and es like holding garlec up tae Dracula ... and constructs a pow-errrr- ful ‘poetic firewall’ to keep the uncultured rabble oot! Och Aye!
Noo, as a lettle recreational break and a cultural scrub for the mind, my mate Patreck from the jolly emerald green isles of our friends the Oirish. Patreck playe the herdy gerdy and sengs, so he’s gean tae dae us a couple ag good ehld Rabbie Berns poems written when he wes en the true character of ScoUtland ... drunk!
As ye ken see, en thes pecture I have of Rabbie, he has the characteristic red nose, fortunately not shared by all of hes cheldren’s ancestors.
Red Red Rose
By R S. Bun (a name he sometimes used on hes finest werks tae see ef he was stell popular when hes fans thought et wasnae hem).