Stu Savory blogs today about Robbie Burns, except I can understand nary a word of it as he’s written it in real and phonetic Scots. Naturally, my demented sense of humour makes me think of Edmund Blackadder (the Third), discussing the Welsh and Wales with his dogsbody, Baldrick. Scotland isn’t Wales, I know, but after trying on the dialect, I think these lines (remembered verbatim) fit:
Never ask for directions in Wales, Baldrick, you’ll be washing the spit out of your hair for a fortnight!
It’s full of tough sinewy men terrorising the countryside with their close-harmony singing. You need half a pint of phlegm in your throat to pronounce the place names.
{ 2 comments }
Be grateful that I merely blogged in Scots and not in Gaelic, Yule!
Stu 😉
Hmmmm. The comments are not working again on the next article.
Comments on this entry are closed.