t13ony wrote:Do u actually speak gaelic ginger beard? Or r u still around from when the picts and celts wandered our lands above the border?
I'm not fluent, lets put it that way. As you'll probably notice if I've nae doubt spelt the greeting wrong. Some proper old fart may look at it and ask "
why did you wish the lady good haemmorroids?" And I'd struggle to hold a conversation. My Mother taught me bit's n' bobs, and I remember a tiny bit from being taught in school. (Born n raised close to Inverness)
Scots folk are taught important things that come in handy in later years, regardless of "mither tongue" For example:
"HOW feching much?....you're kidding aren't you?", and
"isn't it time you were going?", and
"no ice in my glass thanks, as it takes up too much room"....and
"sorry, but is that your sheep on the road I've just hit?".
As for me being "left over" from days of yore?...yup, I feel like that sometimes. I dress (and have the physical appearance) as though I've just crawled out of a skip. The face I wear looks more sour than an out of date lemon. A smile? What the heck is that? That was an optional accessory when I went through the manufacturing stage. A touch crabbit perhaps, but only on days that have a "Y" in them.
I can't wear the plaid anymore, as my legs would get me arrested for causing fear and alarm. (They don't call me "Vestas" fer nothing y'know!). Underneath all my bike garb, is a body the
same colour it was the day it came out of the packet.
So, a vision no-one wants (and I apologise for it), is imagining me bollock naked, standing upright. Pure white stick with an unkempt Ginger beard..........I look like a lit match.
And I still cannae figure oot why I'm still single?
thanx for all your kind words guys... It's much appreciated!