Not long ago I put up a silly post about cow farts and climate change which generated quite a lot of good natured, bawdy banter. Amazingly one of the "liberals" here took exception to fart jokes and declared everyone involved in the thread infantile and unworthy of their place in this forum for intellectual discussion.
Farts aren't infantile and neither are fart jokes, in fact anyone who has done stand up will tell you a far joke can be a life saver when you are dying on stage. Everyone loves a fart joke. Except of course for humorless liberals like the prissy cow who turned that thread into a bad tempered squabble and the big girl's blouse whom I noticed yesterday trying to do the same with my fiend Sue's thread by whining that "ass" was a bad word.
This week I have been enjoying some banter between former colleagues who are Scottish and were celebrating Burn's Night last weekend. Part of the Burns Night tradition is a reading of the poem Address Tae The Haggis.
One of the guys, a rather august businessman and senior layman of the methodist Church gave us a poem for the day after Burns Night: Address Tae A Fart (author unknown) which was published in a Scottish newspaper a few years ago.
All I can say to the pusillanimous liberals of gather is, don't visit Scotland, there's too much real life there for people like you.
Address Tae A Fart
Oh what a sleekit horrible beastie
Lurks in yer belly efter the feastie
As ye sit doon amongst yer kin
There sterts tae stir an enormous win'
The neeps an' tatties an' mushy peas
Stert workin' like a gentle breeze
But soon the puddin' wi' the sonsie face
Will have ye blawin' a' ower the place.
Nae matter whit the hell ye dae
A'body's gonnae have tae pay
Even if ye try tae stifle
It's like a bullet oot o' a rifle
Hawd yer bum ticht tae the chair
Tae try an' stop the leakin' air
Shift yersel fae cheek tae cheek
Pray tae God it disnae reek.
But aw yer efforts gan asunder
Oot it comes like a clap o' thunder
Ricochets aroon' the room
Michty me! A sonic boom
God Almighty, it fairly reeks!
Hope I huvnae crapped ma breeks!
Tae the bog I'd better scurry,
Ach, whit the hell, it's no ma worry.
A'body roon aboot me chokin'
Yin or twa were nearly bokin'
I'll feel better for a while
Cannae help but raise a smile.
Wis him! I shout with accusin' glower,
Alas! Too late! He's just keeled ower
Ya dirty bugger, they shout and stare
A didnae feel welcome ony mair
Where e're ye be let yer wind gang free
Sounds like just thon wee jobby for me
Whit a fuss at Rabbie's party
Ower the sake o' ma ane wee farty.