A "golden oldie" in honour of Burns Night.

[Filonian]

The British Prime Minister is being shown around a Glasgow hospital.



Towards the end of the visit, he is shown into a ward with a number people with no obvious signs of injury or disease.



He goes to greet the first patient and he replies:

"Fair fa' your honest sonsie face, Great chieftain e' the puddin' race! Aboon them a' ye tak your place, Painch, tripe, or thairm; Weel are ye wordy o' a grace as lang's my arm."

The Prime Minister, being somewhat confused, goes to the next patient and greets him. He replies:


"Some hae meat, and canna eat, and some wad eat that want it, but we hae meat and can eat, and sae the Lord be thankit."

The third starts rattling off as follows:



"Wee sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie! Thou need na start awa sae hasty, wi bickering brattle! I wad be laith to rin an chase thee, wi murdering pattle!"

The Prime Minister turns to the doctor accompanying him and asks what sort of ward is this. A mental ward?



"No," replies the doctor, "It's the Burns unit."




Graham

[steelsporran]

Gro-oannn

[DaveB]

Dunno what to say really except that's not the punchline I was expecting.. not that I knew what to expect in the first place

ATB

DaveB