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PostPosted: Mon Jan 16, 2006 10:54 am 
Help. Ive been asked by the legion to do the reply from the lassies on burns night, but for the life of me i cant come up with any really rude jokes. I showed one lad my original speech and he ripped it up and said it wasnt dirty enough so now im back to square one. I have to put men down.....sorry lads so i need your help.
Dirty men jokes and put downs will be graciously acepted. :D :D


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PostPosted: Mon Jan 16, 2006 11:00 am 
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Flo....That must be a first....I can't come up with any rude jokes. Tell me Flo are getting old ????????.


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PostPosted: Mon Jan 16, 2006 11:45 am 
Och Tab, ive got a few but nothing really really rude!!. Honestly mate im struggling on this one.


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PostPosted: Mon Jan 16, 2006 12:38 pm 
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Don't know if this helps. Use or disregard as needed. Enjoy!

http://www.lotsofjokes.com/cat_253.htm


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PostPosted: Mon Jan 16, 2006 1:34 pm 
cheers Mate,

Absolutely brills, heard a few of them before but definately will be using this.

Thanks again :D


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PostPosted: Wed Jan 18, 2006 1:51 pm 
Ahoy there Flo!

I found this on Once A Marine

http://civviestreet.proboards19.com/ind ... 1137069933


Quote:
I'M GLAD I'M A WOMAN
I'm glad I'm a woman, yes I am, yes I am.
I don't live off of Budweiser, Beer Nuts and Spam.
I don't brag to my buddies about my erections.
I won't drive to Hell before I ask for directions.
I don't get wasted at parties, and act like a clown.
And I know how to put that damned toilet seat down!
I won't grab your hooters, I won't pinch your butt.
My belt buckle's not hidden beneath my beer gut.
And I don't go around "re-adjusting" my crotch,
or yell like Tarzan when my headboard gets a notch.
I don't belch in public, I don't scratch my behind.
I'm a woman you see-I'm just not that kind!
I'm glad I'm a woman, I'm so glad I could sing.
I don't have body hair like shag carpeting.
It doesn't grow from my ears or cover my back.
When I lean over you can't see 3 inches of crack.
And what's on my head doesn't leave with my comb.
I'll never buy a toupee to cover my dome.
Or have a few hairs pulled from over the side.
I'm a woman, you know-I've got far too much pride!
And I honestly think its a privilege for me,
to have these two boobs and squat when I pee.
I don't live to play golf and shoot basketball.
I don't swagger and spit like a Neanderthal.
I won't tell you my wife just does not understand,
or stick my hand in my pocket to hide that gold band.
Or tell you a story to make you sigh and weep,
then screw you, roll over and fall sound asleep!
Yes, I'm so very glad I'm a woman, you see.
Forget all about that old penis envy.
I don't long for male bonding, I don't cruise for chicks.
Join the Hair Club For Men, or think with my dick.
I'm a woman by chance and I'm thankful, it's true.
I'm so glad I'm a woman and not a man like you!


I tried posting it yesterday but must have fluffed it.


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 Post subject: Burns Night
PostPosted: Wed Jan 18, 2006 2:20 pm 
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Heres one Flo



Another of my wife's poetic gems...


My Husband's Pipes

Last year I told you about Bennett's sexual yearning,
How lines from Burns get his testosterone churning.

Well this year I have another confession to make.
I trust you'll all be silent as my reputation is at stake.

You see the tides have turned in our bed at night
And now it is my loins which Burns words do light.

And worse, it's not only Burns' verse that sets my libido on fire.
it's all things Scottish - Haggis, bagpipes, even the name McIntyre.

When I'm feeling relaxed and randy
I place Bennett's kilt by the bed handy.

I make sure it is washed and neatly pressed.
With special care I fondle the Fischer crest.

When the children are bathed, all snug and asleep,
The final preparation I make with a leap.

I position the bagpipes within Bennett's easy grasp,
As I take them from the closet I give a little gasp

Now it is time for the fun to begin.
I know it is wrong, I know it's a sin.

As Bennett dons his kilt I watch in fascination.
Only this sonsie lad can cause me such excitation.

Maybe it is the placement of his knitted tam
That makes me the ewe to his ram.

As he starts to recite Nine Inch Will Please a Lady
He knows it's time for the bagpipes or I'll go crazy.

I'll spare you the details of our climatic expedition,
Suffice it to say it may be the reason for our eviction.

With amazing grace, dexterity and skill
He doesn't stop til this lass has had her fill.

There, I've said it. My secret is finally out.
I feel relieved though still the lout.

But the moral of this tale I don't want you to misconstrue,
My advice from last year still holds true.

If into your bed a kilted mate does creep
Just pretend you are fast asleep.

You see, although pleasurable the pipes are too large
Unless, of course, you sleep on a barge.

Two in our bed was the way it used to be.
Now I'm only satisfied when there is three.

Aye

John_D

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PostPosted: Wed Jan 18, 2006 2:31 pm 
John you are a star. I had a practice of my script hoping it was 10 minutes long (which ive been told its meant to be ) and unfortunately it is only 5 min 47 seconds so using the first poem the jobs a good un!!

cheers oppo


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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Fri Jan 27, 2006 3:47 am 
Ahoy there Flo!
How did the Burns Night go?


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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Fri Jan 27, 2006 7:31 am 
Its tommorow night,

here is a copy of my speech, can anyone give me any pointers to make it more amusing.

Quote:
A REPLY FAE THE LASSIE’S



Oh John having a critic praise you is like the hangman saying you have a pretty neck.

Im sure you’ll agree with me ladies when I say that ‘men are great’ – I just couldn’t eat a whole one!

On behalf of the lassies that are convened here tonight, I wish to thank you kind Sir, for your kind words, witty comments and eulogy of the better specimen, otherwise known as wimmin! Some of your speech whilst a wee bit inaccurate was actually quit amusing, but on saying that it is a well kent fact that Scotsman do actually have a sense of humour, but then again that will be because it is free!! Oh and the occasional flashes of silence made the conversation perfectly delightful.

But im wondering just where you got your information from, if it was from the internet then I hope you saved it on hard disk because us wummin will not stand for a 3 ½ inch floppy. But judging by our previous speakers wee comments and innuendos ‘the cantankerous wee bugger’ its obvious he has been trying out the new Viagra eye drops to try and make him look hard. But John being the canny wee Scotsman that he is doesn’t spend too much money on Viagra, why? Because he doesn’t want to be hard up. As we heard, some of John’s jokes were quite short, but then again that is only so he as a male can remember them. It’s a true fact that men forget everything, that’s why on the sports channel they have instant replays.

When I was asked if I would be prepared to do the reply fae the lassies I have to admit I pondered a bit and it was only when John Lindsey said the immortal lines of, ‘Fiona we need your accent.’ that I realised that I really had no choice in the matter. So off I went with pen in hand and my thinking cap on, to come up with something suitable for tonight’s venue. When I tested out my original script to a few of the lads one Sunday here in the legion, it was grabbed out my hands and ripped up for not being rude enough, so after many attempts and the culmination of yet another rain forest being eradicated, I hope I have succeeded, and if I do offend anyone tonight then may I respectfully suggest you gang awa an bile yer he’ad. In English, the door is that way. But don’t ask me what it is in German cause I canny fathem oot the language cause it’s no as posh as mine.

It wasn’t so much the lack of time to come up with something, but the fact that the reply while illustrating the vices and lack of morality of the members of the ‘unfairer’ sex, i.e. men was to end on a complimentary note. That last bit got me stumped!

But after listening to the previous speech I feel that the speaker got his facts from the thinnest book in the world, it’s called, ‘what men know about women’. Well let me enlighten you, a conversation went on in heaven and Man says to God, ‘God why did you make woman so beautiful?’ god says, ‘So you would love her.’ But god the man replies, ‘Why did you make her so dumb.’ God replies back, ‘So she would love you.’

But in fairness women have strengths that amaze men, they carry children, they carry hardship, they carry burdens, but they hold happiness, love and joy. Men whereas are like blenders? You need one but your not quite sure why?
But on the other hand we do have Novum at the bottom of the road. God bless the rampant rabbit and anything latex.
One day my housework challenged husband (Jed) decided to wash his sweatshirt. Seconds after going into the utility room he shouted to me, ‘What setting do I use on the washing machine?’ It depends I replied, what does it say on your shirt? He yelled back university of Oklahoma. And they say blondes are dumb!!!
But give his due he is very trying, he said to me last night Fiona shall we try swapping positions tonight? I said that’s a good idea you stand by the ironing board while I sit on the sofa and fart!
But men are like dogs,
Both take up to much space on the bed.
Both have irrational fears about vacuuming
Both are threatened by there own kind
Both like to mark there territory, isn’t that right Jed, next time clean up after you.
Both have an inordinate fascination with woman’s crutches.
Both fart without looking shameless
Both are suspicious of the postman
And they are always playing with balls, but ladies as we all know men are proof that we ladies can take a joke.

As the great Robbie burns once said, A mans a man for aw that. For all what I ask? Their idea of planning for the future is to buy two cases of beer instead of one. They buy a double bed but give you 6 inches (behave), and more annoyingly they snore and fart in bed. Now I know why the female black widow spider kills the males after mating; it’s to stop the snoring before it begins. Their idea of housework is lifting their feet so we, the wummin, can vacuum underneath They squeeze the toothpaste in the middle of the tube, and then proceed to leave the top off. They haven’t yet mastered how to change a toilet roll and they always leave the toilet seat up; but I have discovered why men whistle when they go to the toilet….its so they can remember which end to wipe. But there are two things that no man will ever admit he cannot do well, drive and make love, and the only exercise they excel at, is sucking in their bellies on the beach every time they see a lassie walk by in a bikini, but despite their shortfalls, still we love them.

Now Rabbie Burns didn’t wear a kilt he wore tro’es, but that didn’t stop him being a ladies man and having his wicked way with a number of ladies including those mentioned tonight in the immortal memory, but personally I am surprised that he never chose to wear the plaid as it was easy access and judging by the fact that he was a rogue a romantic and quit guid looking I have to say that I wouldn’t of minded havin a go at him myself, had I lived in his time. And who knows there could have been a poem named after me. But they do say that a hard man is good to find or was that a good man is hard to find. Ay a mans a man for a that!


Do we agree ladies with the statement that the kilt is an aphrodisiac? And what do Scotsmen really wear under their pleats? Well im sure a few of the men gathered here tonight will only be too willing to show you after a few whiskies! But remember if he tell you it’s about 9 inches long, Please remember that a mans idea of honestly in a relationship is actually giving you his real name, and if he talks to you for more than half an hour….Run, that’s a males perception of foreplay!

But us ladies know when a man is well hung? It’s when you can just barely slip your finger in between his neck and the noose. But….

As a lass I think
I speak for all
There nae a man
Too wee nor tall
Nor stout nor lean,
Nor slightly built
Wha disnae look fine
When he’s wearin a kilt

And if you should
To go without
Be prepared lad
For a lassie to shout
O’delight and Joy
At what she see’s
A dandy pair
O’knobbly knees!

So wear it men
With passion and zest
Knowing full well
That you’re looking yer best!
And surely some lassie
Will proudly proclaim,
‘Hands off girls
I’m takin him hame!!!’

The big question in a lot of relationships is who wears the trousers? I think it was summed up by the late Denis Thatcher, who when asked who wore the pants in his house, he replied, ‘I do, and I also wash and iron them.’ Aye a mans a man for aw that!
I have to admit that myself and Jed have a 50/50 relationship, I cook/he eats, I clean/ he dirties, I iron/ he wrinkles. I get frisky/ he’s finished. Aye John yer right, men are such strong individual.

This brings me to a wee poem by Robbie Burns called, Braw lads of Galla water, It ne'er was wealth, it ne'er was wealth, That coft contentment, peace, or pleasure, The bands and bliss o’mutual love, O that’s the chiefest warld’s treasure. Now this dissected means that the fairer sex isn’t after your money, we are after the simpler things in life like contentment, love and fun. But if we can’t get hold of the remote control, how can that be achieved. And when we complain to them about there selfishness, they say its our hormones, well don’t you find it strange that Men-tal anxiety, Men –opause, Men-strual pain, Men-tal breakdown, Guy-nocology and His-terectomy which are all women’s problems, begin or involve the male species.


However Scotsmen have acquired a few social graces over the past hundred years – they don’t belch in the faces of women they are married to and some of them (so im told) even take their socks off before having sex. (Jed take note)


But the question is, ‘would or could we do without o’er muckle gallus galoots?’ and for those who dinnae understand the twang, that’s Scottish for men! …………The answer is simple. No we could not.

Its only right we toast the lads
Because they help us so
Without them sad would be our lot
And long the path we go.

They take us on such scenic trips
To sites remote and wide.
Lads never ask directions
They just trust their inner guide!

They save us from the stress and strain
Of deciding Yes or No.
Lads always know what we should do,
And, are pleased to tell us so.

Ah, but when the lads ask us to dance
It gives our hearts a tilt
For petranellas are superb
When they add a flash of the kilt

Yes lads cherish and protect us
And they help us reach our goals
With a wink, a smile and a helping hand
They’re music to our souls

But we love them for their honor
For their courage and their pride
Indeed there’s nothing we can’t do
With a guid laddie by our side

For the bonnie flower O Scotland
Is one that ne’er wilts
It makes a lassie say with pride
Down wi trousers up wi kilts

But while we stand here tonight and ridicule the male species it’s a well kent fact that at the end of the day we are all Jock Tamsons’ bairns, and a man needs his lassie as much as a lassie needs her man. So if any of you lassies here tonight are still searching for Mr Right the message is clear head to Britain and to a special place just north of the border called Scotland.


But despite their vices – their immorality, and all the troubles they may heap upon us, we continue to love them, even when they insist on throwing their dirty undies on the floor.

But in reality our laddies are like pipers in the mist, they bring music to our hearts and many a time a tear to our eye.

lads and lassies gan thigither just like Scotland and the thistle, whiskey and Freedom, mince and tatties, the hi’land games and the caber, and of course kilts with nae knickers.


I may be Scottish by birth, British by law but im highland lass by the grace of god, So from this highland lass, I ask you lassies gathered here tonight to please stand, seize your drinks and raise yer glasses.


Lassies I proudly give you our strength, our loons, our laddies………..shlangiva.


Remember these are not spelling mistakes, its written in Scots dialect.............honest :wink: Y'Ken.

Any views on improvement greatly appreciated.


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PostPosted: Fri Jan 27, 2006 1:19 pm 
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Bloody good effort that man :P
You could use the old "what`s worn under the kilt?" gag, Fi
"Nothing, Madam, it`s all in perfect working order"
Twist it around a bit though,
"You know men are lying when you ask them what`s worn under the kilt and they say ......" sort of thing.:wink:
Enjoy yer haggis Fi 8)


Quite by coincidence, I happened to be searching for a particular version of Clan Machackedoff tartan and was reminded of summat I`d forgotten ages since.
The motto of my Clan is Per Mare Per Terras :o terras means "lands"

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Fri Jan 27, 2006 7:34 pm 
Flo ...... excellent stuff!

Knock 'em for six, mate! :drinking:

Jayne xx


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PostPosted: Sat Jan 28, 2006 3:15 pm 
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:lol: Brill!!!

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PostPosted: Sat Jan 28, 2006 6:03 pm 
Regtl Burn's night tonight. Can't go, thouhg, as the Mrs and the youngest both have viral pneumonia. I shall miss my Alberta prime rib and haggis with whisky gravy! Ho hum.

The usual drunken exchange will occur between us and the messes at BATUS. Some of their offrs/SNCOs will come to our do (the BATUS CO and RSM usually attend or send reps) and a bunch of our heathen colonials will reciprocate (my big word for the day) next week.

Last time I was at the BATUS mess ('99), I arrived at 15:00 and met the RSM who promptly pumped Black Bush' into me for an hour (as you do, apparently, when you're an Irish donkey whalloper). 40 winks, then changed into mes kit. Back at the mess at 18:45, piped in to dinner at 19:45 and didn't get up from the table until 01:45. Not so much as an "ease springs". My bloody neck was breacking! Finally left the mess at 05:00. Got two hours sleep, then an hour and a half's drive to the starting point for my leg of the Banf-Calgary relay race. Best time ever ... didn't feel a thing (or even remember much of it!!). Sweating pure single malt did not exactly endear me to the more sensetive of the civ pop, however. Fark 'em!


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PostPosted: Sat Jan 28, 2006 6:33 pm 
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Black Bush you say? Was a big big fan of all things Bushmills till oi found the Tullamore Dew, then it was Endex.
Me latest fascination is the short batch/over strenght version of the Laphroig.
Kin luvvsit oi duz. :roll:
Not quite as much as Jembrant mind, while the Deer`s on the barby and the sun`s still warm..... 8) And way to the west is Hardanger Fjiord.
Good craik, good beer and good food, what else is there?
Apart from outragious sex of course :P Yee haw 8)

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