A joke for the Sweaty Socks.

President Barack Obama visits a Glasgow hospital …………..
He enters a ward full of patients with no obvious sign of injury or illness,
He greets one.

The patient replies:

Fair fa your honest sonsie face,
Great chieftain o the puddin race,
Aboon them a ye take yer place,
Painch, tripe or thairm,
As langs my airm.

Obama is confused, so he just grins and moves on to the next patient.

The next patient responds:

Some hae meat an canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it,
But we hae meat an we can eat,
So let the Lord be thankit.

Even more confused, and his grin now rictus-like, the President moves onto the next patient, who immediately begins to chant:

Wee sleekit, cowerin, timorous beasty,
O the panic in thy breasty,
Thou needna start awa sae hastie,
Wi bickering brattle

Now seriously troubled, Obama turns to the accompanying doctor and asks, ‘Is this a psychiatric ward?’

‘No’ replies the doctor, ‘this is the serious Burns unit ‘ 🙂

21 thoughts on “A joke for the Sweaty Socks.”

  2. Aye right, toc, pal! Lang may yer lum reek.

    Have always liked this joke and always will.

    A Pedant writes:-

    ‘The Selkirk Grace which begins ‘Some hae meat and cannae eat’ is often attributed to Burns. This is a pile of dingoes’ kidneys. It predates him by at least a century.’

    It’s still a braw joke, to be fair.

  11. LOL – love it Tocino. Just right. I was looking for an opportunity to wish Mr Mackie and JW a very merry Burns Night 🙂

    I will be sinking a wee dram or two of The Macallan in the spirit of Celtic fellowship. (I’ve run out of Old Sheep Dip so it’s on to the good stuff).

  12. janh1 :

    LOL – I was looking for an opportunity to wish Mr Mackie and JW a very merry Burns Night :-)

    I will be sinking a wee dram or two of The Macallan in the spirit of Celtic fellowship.

    Aye weel, janh1. In case nobody noticed, I’m in slightly stroppy mode tonight. I have missed out on three Burns suppers in the last five days, due to tripping over a broken drain cover. On the plus side, Jim Naughtie was giving the Immortal Memory at one of said suppers so it’s an ill wind, as they say.

    A braw, bricht, Burns nicht, my favourite p-Celt. No Macallan left, so I’m drinking an alternative Speyside to your health. Just the merest sensation of a wee cask strength (60%) Glenfarclas.

  16. Jim Naughtie’s wind is invariably ill, JM. I’m so sorry to hear of your inconvenient drain cover and best wishes for the speedy return of your vim and vigour.

    Here’s to you John with your Glengarclas and Sheona too! My Scottish pal in Chelters was in touch earlier but has since lost the power of typing on her Blackberry. She is having a good evening. 🙂

  17. I must immediately correct that second paragraph first line which implies most improperly that you have Sheona in your precincts. Kindly delete and replace with “Here’s to Sheona too!”

  18. I know it’s a few hours late, but I couldn’t resist posting such a charming photo:

  19. Thank you, janh1. Burns Night always revives memories. My parents retired to live in Alloway, so I knew it well. I remember the Glasgow City Archivist tearing his hair out because the amateurs in charge of the Burns Museum used to display their old manuscripts unprotected and when one page faded in the light, they simply turned over to the next page, so they could lose it too. Thankfully things have now changed. My children used to enjoy playing Pooh sticks on the bridge over the river where Tam O’Shanter escaped. How’s that for a blending of literary traditions?

  20. Thanks for the tartan photo, jaimeatdnmyt. I also love the dress Helena Bonham Carter is wearing on the front page of the DT.

  21. Hi Sheona. So very English and so very Scottish! Mine used to play Pooh sticks too. A simple yet absorbing pastime 🙂

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