[TGD] mensch

*picks himself up* wuhsh? hush? oh waily waily! Aae doonoo wha' aeya'doo!!! *sloshes a mug o spirits* Th' wee lass issa goon! *sniffs* kanne n' find th' lass! me heart ah' brok like lock tae th'spirt cabnet! ... *pauses looking at his drink* Aae dinnae doo it! *falls down drunk again*

Aae doonoo wha' aeya'doo!!! *sloshes a mug o spirits* Th' wee lass issa goon! *sniffs* kanne n' find th' lass! me heart ah' brok like lock tae th'spirt cabnet! ... *pauses looking at his drink* Aae dinnae doo it! *falls down drunk with Billie Holiday playing in the background*

Aae kinna do n' sweedysh Chif! Buh Aae kin do ah nudder Pooe'm *pulls out his Pipes and plays a tune* Tae me laydee, ah luv Pooe'm *clears throat then sticks his tounge out at Joe* Aae kinna promy'e luv ye fer ever'n ah Daye, Buh ah me sweete' luv Aae luv ye inna mae way. Te' the wynd kinna me'r bloo an' there be ah ne' meh Snoo. Te' the Seas kinna find them shor, Aae luv ye ti that tyme kam' An' noot a' syngle Da' me'r. Te' the Suyn ge'a cold an' verye olde an' gae' ta rust, An' the Moon gae' wee thyn an' loos itta skin an' gae' ta dust, Te' this a coom ta pass, An' a the last, The e'rth a' stan'n still, Ae wi luv ye ta that tyme, Ye gonna knaw aae al'wae will. Aae kinna promy'e luv ye fer ever'n ah Daye, Buh ah me luv sum' tings Aae knaw, Aae luv ya inna mae weh', Aae luv ya fer a' loong a this, An' noot a' syngle Da' me'r.

Aae dinna bel'f in na' Oldye oon's. *dances on a hillock shak'n his bag pipes at him*

Oi! bayt' mae undae's lad. Aae dinna cae' wot ya saya's from yer choppers.

a'hem! a wee pooe'm for the Laydee! Gang canny thro’ this world o’ oors, An’ tak’ yer steps wi’ care, An’ never do yer neighbours wrang, But aye do what is fair; For folk fa’ ne'er to rise again Who ne’er hae fa’en before: There’s aye a muckle slippy stane At ilka bodie’s door. An’ if ye see yer neighbour fa’, Oh! dinna pass him by, But lend to him a helping hand, An’ dinna let him lie; The case may be yer ain some day, Tho’ ye hae wealth in store: There’s aye a muckle slippy stane At ilka bodie’s door. There’s slippy stanes where’re ye gang, In palace, hut, or ha’, An’ ye maun tak’ ye steps wi’ care, Or ower them ye may fa’; For emperors and kings may fa’, An’ nobles many a score: There’s aye a muckle slippy stane At ilka bodie’s door.

yer aa big Nippit cuddie? Dannae give me yer havers ye kelpit erse.

What!? ye canna uderstaynds me? what oi say'd wer, What's yours is mine, what's mines is my ain ya Puddock! Na Gimmie!

Ya goot that thaet ryte ye dilly-daw! ye goot a face like the back o' the lum too!

It's noo guid, a wee lad naymed Andrayoos be liv'n there's. Nutt'n wurt when's hes Grinye is nashers, poop ye oot aa hooler'n lik a batty koot'n dat mak ye jump oot at the windea ta ends it all. [ January 30, 2005, 11:55 AM: Message edited by: [TGD] mensch ]

Aye, ah they danna hur much affe ah dae or two. Ken ye oogl'es oof me teets tae yersel ye windaelicker.

Boo Ye canna preach oot o yer ain pulpit. Bu'caa me what ye like, but dinna caa me ae durty coo. keep yer tounge a prisoner, an yer body will gang free or yer canna Kiss my fit, there's mair fleesh on't. [ January 29, 2005, 06:03 PM: Message edited by: [TGD] mensch ]

Wi a mak ah wee pome fir ye! tha wa wi doo! There is an auld gytehoose near Lincoln, but ah wullnie mention ony by name. Cos the balmy beggers in theer, wid like aw visitors ti play their game. Owd Wull is paint'n' the ceiling, so he ordered matt white frae the shoap. But the idiots gid hem gloas paint, noo he's washi'n' the flair wi' a moap. Next day he went wi' a Minder, and slammed the gloss paint oan the bar. "Ah wuz want'n' matt!" he greeted hoarsely and Matt White sashayed up to the bar. Matt wuz aye dealin' wi' nutters, and telt bloke he hed poot paint oan back ti front. Then the bloke telt Matt weer 'e cid shove et, and when it wuz dry 'e cid awa en paint hez wee punt. Then there was owd Yorky Fred the ex-Bricky, warblin', "Wer… wer.. wot the heck am ah doin' 'ere? Ah'm stuck 'ere ber… ber… buildin' this bleed'n' wowl, an' ah can't ge… ger… aht fer a ber bleed'n' beer." The Manager then approached Owd Fred and Fred maintained he was quite sane. And the boss man said he would look into it, then turned and took off again. That's when Fred picked up a loose brick, and threw it with just enough force. To knock the Managers cap off, and Fred grinned showing no remorse. "Thee weern't fergit wot ah telt thi, ah'm as sane as any bugger 'ere! An ah'll prove it, if tha'll lend me a Fiver. A'l be in yon pub suppin' Lincoln's finest beer." Then we met Taffy the Welch horse mangler, who de-nutted gee gee's wi' two bricks. He tied their back legs asunder, so's not to get his head smashed in by kicks. Grasping two heavy house bricks firmly, he would crouch between the hind legs then crash heavy bricks together sharply, while horse gasped at about ten megs. One bystander groaned on observing the ritual, and commented, "Jings! But dis that no herrt?" "On-ny if yer gets thu-mbs twixt bricks, boyo." grinned Taffy as he adjusted his shirt. We saw a Chippy making a cabinet, and busy sawing a plank to fit. And a bloke hanging from the light socket, pretending he was a new globe just lit. We asked why the chap was hanging up theer, but he wouldn't come down wi' oot a ficht. cos his mate was making him a new cabinet, and he couldnie see ti werk wi'oot a licht. [ January 29, 2005, 05:19 PM: Message edited by: [TGD] mensch ]

Good lord a meekes preaching??? oh waily waily! wot a wi a do?

LOL wow these guys are more anal then Senachiepoo.. what the hell happened here? *looks for him* you tied him up didn't you?

.. wow just realized boo is from Akron, Ohio U.S.A. No need to insult him, he's capable of doing that by himself just being from there. *case closed*

Boo needs to live a little and stop worrying about what others write. It makes him look almost as bad as Seanachipoo when he's sober. Nothing better then to see saps like this refried eggroll get all bundled up over typos and commas LOL this is the cess, insulting someone on punkt'u'ation is so 1999s *watches him get all flustered over this post*

impressive picture boo, is that your hot l33t fashion skillz? I'm amazed you actually know how to post pictures it shows you can rub those two brain cells of yours and to get them to work; kinda. I'm amazed you actually worry about grammer, only church choir boys being man handled by some older gents dressed in red robes worry about puncuation or was that penatration, well I guess you would know all about that.

a nobody like mace he's a nobody, well at least his wife continues to say so.

I was talking about your crap-o-ramma pope church idea. it appears you have trouble reading between the lines. hmm scratch that it appears you can't read.

Wrong Jarhead, I came back with Jar Jar Binks and now he's nicking your stuff *points at mace* look there he is now! GET HIM!

so he can be fresh to kick your lame ass on reading skills

don't forget they like little boys.

Church is for those who lack faith in themselves and have things called popes who are in reality old drooling half dead men dressed in robes to hide the fact they have panties on.

yup a clan nickname to those of you halfbaked moldy prairie oysters, seeing you couldn't grasp the idea I won't bother wasting my breath or get your one brain cell that you stole from a lab monkey and share amonst the 18 of you over to post comments here. Besides most of you belong to one already it's called "grumpy old stuffy mens club" muahahah.. I still look younger then you all old farts. muhahaha I'll give you a hint how to look and feel younger, try that thing called Oxygen and see that bright thing in the sky people call the sun. With any luck you'll shrivel up in a ball of dusty mold and a officer of your local department of health will spray you with some nasty goop and be forever entombed in tupperware.