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burns night
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"Not me it's yuk yuk yuk. "Oh no, its yummy!!! | |||
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"I'm going for nips and titties "Haha cheeky!! | |||
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"Love Haggis, however, have not got one for tonight. "catch one, they are easy to trap | |||
"Not me it's yuk yuk yuk. "No, it's yum, yum, yum! I think I will stuff a chicken breast with haggis and make a whisky sauce to go with it. | |||
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"haggis , tatties and neaps but I go for Brandy not whisky "  but with whiskey  | |||
And clapshot too 
Followed by cranachan.
And of course a wee dram or two
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Had to get my sporran out to celebrate  | |||
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"All prep done here "so the haggis'd pie is ready?..when can I come over? | |||
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"I have cullen skink, haggis, clapshot and whisky cream sauce and cranachan on my menu today. Frustratingly more people are going for the pulled pork. Grrrrrrr" Now I want Cullen Skink and Cranachan too! Dammit! | |||
"Dave had haggis last night. Was funny watching him catch it. They're slippery critters " did it have shorter legs on the left or the right .. left handed ones are more rare | |||
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"or for the English (though it is a bit more yukky than the unintelligible Mr Burns..... . Fair and full is your honest, jolly face, Great chieftain of the sausage race! Above them all you take your place, Stomach, tripe, or intestines: Well are you worthy of a grace As long as my arm. The groaning trencher there you fill, Your buttocks like a distant hill, Your pin would help to mend a mill In time of need, While through your pores the dews distill Like amber bead. His knife see rustic Labour wipe, And cut you up with ready slight, Trenching your gushing entrails bright, Like any ditch; And then, O what a glorious sight, Warm steaming, rich! Then spoon for spoon, the stretch and strive: Devil take the hindmost, on they drive, Till all their well swollen bellies by-and-by Are bent like drums; Then old head of the table, most like to burst, 'The grace!' hums. Is there that over his French ragout, Or olio that would sicken a sow, Or fricassee would make her vomit With perfect disgust, Looks down with sneering, scornful _iew On such a dinner? Poor devil! see him over his trash, As feeble as a withered rush, His thin legs a good whip-lash, His fist a nut; Through bloody flood or field to dash, O how unfit. But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed, The trembling earth resounds his tread, Clap in his ample fist a blade, He'll make it whistle; And legs, and arms, and heads will cut off Like the heads of thistles. You powers, who make mankind your care, And dish them out their bill of fare, Old Scotland wants no watery stuff, That splashes in small wooden dishes; But if you wish her grateful prayer, Give her [Scotland] a Haggis! " Thank you most kind. It may have escaped your notice but the first one you posted was in English x | |||
"or for the English (though it is a bit more yukky than the unintelligible Mr Burns..... . Fair and full is your honest, jolly face, Great chieftain of the sausage race! Above them all you take your place, Stomach, tripe, or intestines: Well are you worthy of a grace As long as my arm. The groaning trencher there you fill, Your buttocks like a distant hill, Your pin would help to mend a mill In time of need, While through your pores the dews distill Like amber bead. His knife see rustic Labour wipe, And cut you up with ready slight, Trenching your gushing entrails bright, Like any ditch; And then, O what a glorious sight, Warm steaming, rich! Then spoon for spoon, the stretch and strive: Devil take the hindmost, on they drive, Till all their well swollen bellies by-and-by Are bent like drums; Then old head of the table, most like to burst, 'The grace!' hums. Is there that over his French ragout, Or olio that would sicken a sow, Or fricassee would make her vomit With perfect disgust, Looks down with sneering, scornful _iew On such a dinner? Poor devil! see him over his trash, As feeble as a withered rush, His thin legs a good whip-lash, His fist a nut; Through bloody flood or field to dash, O how unfit. But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed, The trembling earth resounds his tread, Clap in his ample fist a blade, He'll make it whistle; And legs, and arms, and heads will cut off Like the heads of thistles. You powers, who make mankind your care, And dish them out their bill of fare, Old Scotland wants no watery stuff, That splashes in small wooden dishes; But if you wish her grateful prayer, Give her [Scotland] a Haggis! Thank you most kind. It may have escaped your notice but the first one you posted was in English x " Granny....the first one has always sounded a bit like gibberish to me .......runs and hides from all my Scottish pals | |||
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"I've always found the whole Burns thing to be just nonsense." Most traditions are but I like this one cos it mean haggis | |||
"I've always found the whole Burns thing to be just nonsense. Most traditions are but I like this one cos it mean haggis "A very fair point well made. | |||
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