[Polo]

In the old days the English and Scottish armies used to fight by gathering their armies on top of the hills and at day break they would run down the hillside into the deep gorge below to fight.

One morning at dawn there was a fog (as thick as pea soup) and the two generals decided to refrain from fighting that day. Whilst the two armies were resting a voice, with a scottish accent came from within the dense fog.

"Any one scotsman can beat any 10 englishmen".

With this, the english general sent down 10 of his soldiers. There was a **** of a fight and NO ONE returned. An hour later, the same voice was heard.

"Any one scotsman can beat any 50 englishman".

With this the english general sent down 50 of his soldiers. The same thing, a terrible fight ensured and again NO ONE returned. An hour later the same voice.

"Any one scotsman can beat any 100 englishman".

Same same, down went 100 of the best. NO ONE returned. An hour later.

"Any one scotsman can beat any 1,000 englishman".

By this time, the english general had enough and was about to send down his elite soldiers, when he saw a lone englishman crawling up the hill. He was battered to a pulp. As he reached his general he said, "Don't send any more troops down, its a trap, THERES TWO OF THE B*STARDS".

This post has been edited by Polo: 09 January 2004 - 04:07 PM

[Polo]

A student at an English university,
by name of Donald MacDonald from the Isle of Skye,
who was living in the hall of residence in his first year there.
After he had been there for a month,
his mother came to visit,
no doubt carrying reinforcements of oatmeal.

"And how do you find the English students, Donald?"
she asked.

"Mother," he replied, "they're such terrible noisy people!
The one on that side keeps banging his head against the wall,
and won't stop.
The one on the other side screams and screams
and screams away into the night!"

"Oh, Donald! How ever do you manage
to put up with these awful noisy English neighbours?"

"Mother, I do nothing, I just ignore them!
I just stay here quietly playing my bagpipes!"

[©allum]

*requests move to joke forum*

[CongressJon]

*Moved*

[SAJOWNS FFS]

I have a scottish joke;
What do you call a scotsman in euro 2004 ?

ref

[Kowboy]

Hehe, soccer jokes?

[SAJOWNS FFS]

[©allum]

I take offence at that joke and demand a bizzilion pounds in compensation.

[©allum]

How is that close?????

[SAJOWNS FFS]

No buckingham palace and scotland are not 20 miles apart

[©allum]

Scotland= Country. Buckingham Palace= Where the Queen Lives (most of the time)

Scotland and buckingham palace are about 200 miles apart.

[Polo]

Distressed Widow

When Big Peter McFlannel dies in Glasgow, his old widow wishes to tell all his friends at once, so she goes to the newspaper and says "I'd like tae place an obituary fur ma late husband"

The man at the desk says "OK, how much money dae ye have?"

The old woman replies "£5" to which the man says "You wont get many words for that but write something and we'll see if it's ok".

So the old woman writes something and hands it over the counter and the man reads "Peter McFlannel, fae Parkheid, deid".

The clerk feels guilty at the abruptness of the statement and encourages the old woman to write a few more things. The old woman ponders and then adds a few more words and hands the paper over the counter again.

The clerk then reads "Peter Reid, fae Parkheid deid. Ford Escort for sale"

[Polo]

One day Wee Hughie bought a bottle of fine whiskey and while walking home he fell.

Getting up he felt something wet on his pants.

He looked up at the sky and said,"Oh lord please I beg you let it be blood!"

[Polo]

Wee Hughie was in the garden filling in a hole when his neighbour peered over the fence. Interested in what the mad man was up to, he politely asked, 'What are you doing there, Hughie?'

'My goldfish died,' replied Wee Hughie tearfully without looking up, 'and I've just buried him.'

The neighbor was very concerned. 'That's an awfully big hole for a goldfish, isn't it?'

Wee Hughie patted down the last heap of dirt then replied, 'That's because he's inside your ****ing cat.'

[stevanh]

Wee Hughie was dying. Tenderly, his wife Maggie knelt by his bedside and asked:
‘Anything I can get you, Hughie?’
No reply.

‘Have you got a last wish, Hughie?’

Faintly, came the answer. . . ‘a wee bit of of that boiled ham over yonder.’
‘Wheesht, man,’ said Maggie, ‘you know fine that’s for the your funeral.’