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Lament for a Lost Dinner Ticketby Margaret Hamilton. See ma mammy See ma dinner ticket A pititnma Pokit an she pititny Washnmachine. See thon burnty up wherra firwiz Ma mammy says Am no tellnyagain Noty playnit A jis wenty eat ma Pokacrisps furma dinner Nabigwomdoon... The wummin sed Aver near clapsed Jistur heednur Wee wellies stikinoot. They sed wot heppind ? N'men ma belly Na bedna hospital A sed a pititnma Pokit an she petitny washnmachine. They sed Ees thees chaild eb slootly Non verbal A sed Ma Bumsair Nwenty sleep |
Graffitiby Janet Paisley. Johnny Scramble, nae preamble, draws oan waws whin naebody's lookin, yaises aerosol cans, rins away fae polis vans. Coarnered yisterday, he wis. Ken whit the stupt eejit dis? Pents hissell tae match the waw, thocht they*d no see him at aw. Johnny Scramble* jist a ful, noo he's in the hoaspitul whaur naebody hus oany peety fur sic a rare case o Graffiti. |
Wallies(anon) An auld wife went tae hur doactur, Wi a blush aw ower hur face For she hud a shuge big bealin Oan a finna ridicklus place. "Whit happened?" asked the doactur She answered, "Ah'm feart te tell "As Ah wis loupin owra ma bed. Ah went an bit masel" "Ye must be a coantoartioist tae dae a thing say gallus." "Dinnae be sae daft!" the auld wife said: 'Ah jist sat doon oan ma wallies" |
Unrelated Incidentby Tom Leonard. this is thi six a clock news thi man said n thi reason a talk wia BBC accent iz coz yi widny wahnt mi ti talk aboot thi trooth wia voice lik wanna yoo scruff.if a toktaboot thi trooth lik wanna yoo scruff yi widny thingk it wuz troo jist wanna yoo scruff tokn. thirza right way ti spell ana right way ti tok it. this is ma trooth. yooz doant no thi trooth yirsellz cawz yi canny talk right. this is the six a clock nyooz. belt up |
Street Rhymes(Taken from the book "Tell it Tae a Glaswegian" by anon. Langside publications) As a wiz walkin doon thi sterr Ah met a man that wizna the He wizna there again thi day Ah wish tae hang he'd go away. Murder murder polis, Three sterrs up The wummin in thi tap flat Hit mi wa a cup. Ah took her tae a ball Ah took her tae hur supper She fell ower a cherr An stuck her nose in ra butter Ra butter, ra butter Ra holy - margerine Two black eyes an a jeely nose an a face a paintit green Kiltie klitie Calder couldnae play a drum His faither took the belluzis An' blew him up the lum Tam Tam, the funny wee man Washed his face in a frying pan Combed his herr wi thi leg o a chair Tam Tam, the funny wee man. Hi diddle dandy Black suger candy Gie yie waens whit yi like But dinnae gie them brandy |
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