Two Young men from Glasgow, Archie and Jock, are sitting in the pub discussing Jock’s forthcoming wedding .”
Ach, it’s all going like magic,” says Jock. “I’ve got everything organized already -the flowers, the church, the cars, the reception, the rings, the minister, even ma stag night…..”
Archie nods approvingly.
“Man, I ‘ve even bought a kilt to be married in!” continues Jock.”
A kilt?” exclaims Archie, “That’s grand, you’ll look pure smart in that! And what’s the tartan?”
“Oh,” says Jock, “I’d imagine she’ll be in white.
(h/t Jonathan Wilton)ÂÂ
*rim shot*
Tartar!? I barely know ‘er!
In college, I took a course in psychoanalysis with a Weedgie philosophy professor. One day he told us the following “joke”:
The sinners roasting in the fires of hell cried up to God, “Lord, spare us! We didnae ken!”
God replied, “Ye ken the now.”
He was an odd sort.
D’jer Mak’er?
<sotto voce> Phil, I’m not sure the Irishfolk that hang around here will know what “Weedgie” means. </sotto voce>
Ach, I ken loads o’ Glaswegians, McGehee.
GLASWEGIAN!!!!11!!
Soapdodgers!
Okay. I was afraid you lot would think a Weedgie was a board for communicating with spirits.
I’ve read several of Irvine Welsh’s books, so that gives me a leg up.
God be wi’ ye’.