jokes

[Shaki]

Ta. So, he's asking if her fanny is red and no, it's just the reflection off her shoes he says.

I think that quite effectively ruins the joke.

Well, he's asking if she is the aforementioned pretty young lady called "Fannie Reid" but the altar boy thinks he's asking if her vagina is red, because in doric the sentences:

"Is that Fannie Reid?"

and

"Is that fanny red?"

would be pronounced the same.

[Le Stu]

Like Peter Reid fae Peterhead is dead.

Volvo for sale.

[JaseyBoi]

Like Peter Reid fae Peterhead is dead.

Volvo for sale.

No no no

Peter Reid fae peterheed is deed

[Le Stu]

No no no

Peter Reid fae peterheed is deed

Yeah, I fucked that up... oh well.

Why can't people in Scotland speak properly anyway? I was born and raised here and I don't speak like that. True, I got the shit kicked out of me at school for being 'posh' but mere physical violence cannot lower my standard of engrish.

[fatboy]

Yeah, I fucked that up... oh well.

Why can't people in Scotland speak properly anyway? I was born and raised here and I don't speak like that. True, I got the shit kicked out of me at school for being 'posh' but mere physical violence cannot lower my standard of engrish.

WTF

you're the one that doesn't speak properly, your from aberdeen! why shouldnt you speak like that?

its called local dialect!

Im prood 'o thi waye I spik,

and i hate it when people who think that speaking in local or common tounge is a bad thing

why!

[Le Stu]

WTF

you're the one that doesn't speak properly, your from aberdeen! why shouldnt you speak like that?

its called local dialect!

Im prood 'o thi waye I spik,

and i hate it when people who think that speaking in local or common tounge is a bad thing

why!

Don't be offended, I don't think there's anything wrong with your crazy moon language. It's just that it would be more economically advantageous for me to put the effort into learning Mandarin.

[aberdoom.com]

Lady Gaga and Kanye West are releasing a duet

Its going to be called

'I have one, I am one'

[I'm Your God Now]

Yeah, I fucked that up... oh well.

Why can't people in Scotland speak properly anyway? I was born and raised here and I don't speak like that. True, I got the shit kicked out of me at school for being 'posh' but mere physical violence cannot lower my standard of engrish.

I find it very hard to understand Aberdeen lingo at times, it's fucking insane.

Don't get me wrong, I the Glaswegian accent comes on thick and all the slang is out when I'm with my mates back home, even then it's not that hard to understand, but anywhere else I try to speak close to the Queens purely for the fact of other people understanding what I say.

One thing that annoys the utter life out of me is when you're abroad and there's someone trying to order/buy something while speaking in their local dialect then complain that they don't understand English.

Anyway.

What has 132 legs and 8 teeth?

The first row of at Parkhead.

[Teabags]

Don't be offended, I don't think there's anything wrong with your crazy moon language. It's just that it would be more economically advantageous for me to put the effort into learning Mandarin.

You think people learnt dorich? like, they sat down with a book and then got a yearly exam on what "Pretty ken fit yer on aboot min!?" meant?

[Lemonade]

Anyway.

What has 132 legs and 8 teeth?

The first row of at Parkhead.

Similarly:

What has 100 legs and no pubes?

The front row of a Boyzone* concert.

(* or whoever the kids are listening to these days. Miley Cyrus or something)

[Le Stu]

You think people learnt dorich? like, they sat down with a book and then got a yearly exam on what "Pretty ken fit yer on aboot min!?" meant?

Well, I had to read Sunset Song at School. So, YES.

[Skubbs]

My school actually handed out doric dictionaries and told the kids to write a doric poem for Standard Grade... strangely one of the kids who grew up on a farm and did the highland dancing won both 1st and 2nd prize. She hung about with the pupils who wore rugby tshirts and cat boots to school, and even I couldn't fucking understand them.

What does (probably wrong spelling but it's how it sounds) fiachy mean? And kyard?

* oh and the local primary school is making the kids learn doric poems for "poetry week"... one was "skinky malinky long legs, pinty lang beak, wint tae the fermyard but couldnae find nae meat...."

It's definitely being forced on the kids, seeing as a lot of them are English and haven't a clue what they're singing.

[Scootray]

It's hardly being forced on them.

They are at school in a doric region.

[Lemonade]

We had to do Doric poetry readings at school. Most of them were by a guy from Peterhead called Peter Buchan who came into our school a few times to judge the readinds. He was a lovely old man, sadly no longer with us.

I remember having to do a poem called "Twa-legged mice" in front of the whole fucking school. Complete with actions.

My mither says that we hae mice

That open air-ticht tins

And eat her chocolate biscuits

And cakes and sic like things.

Nae doubt it is an affa shame

That mice should get the blame

Its really me fa rypes the tins

Fan left alane at hame

But jings I get fair hungert

And biscuits taste sae nice

But dinna tell my mither for

She thinks it is the mice

We also did this one:

The Sair Finger

by Walter Wingate

You've hurt your finger? Puir wee man!

Your pinkie? Deary me!

Noo, juist you haud it that wey till

I get my specs and see!

My, so it is - and there's the skelf!

Noo, dinna greet nae mair.

See there - my needle's gotten't out!

I'm sure that wasna sair?

And noo, to make it hale the morn,

Put on a wee bit saw,

And tie a Bonnie hankie roun't

Noo, there na - rin awa'!

Your finger sair ana'? Ye rogue,

You're only lettin' on.

Weel, weel, then - see noo, there ye are,

Row'd up the same as John!

[Soda Jerk]

I wish they taught Yorkshire lingo at my school. Infact it was almost completely banished. We weren't even allowed to say "Lecking", which meant Playing. If you asked anyone if they wanted to "leck soccer" you got a right wagging of the finger.

[Lonz]

* oh and the local primary school is making the kids learn doric poems for "poetry week"... one was "skinky malinky long legs, pinty lang beak, wint tae the fermyard but couldnae find nae meat...."

It's definitely being forced on the kids, seeing as a lot of them are English and haven't a clue what they're singing.

Ha ha, I was always taught the big banana feet version of that rhyme, had completely forgotten all about it until I read your post.

Skinny Malinky long legs

Big banana feet

Went tae the pictures

And couldnae get a seat

When the picture started

Skinny Malinky farted

Skinny Malinky long legs

Big banana feet

Still makes me smile.

[Shaki]

A doric-spikkin mannie eence telt me 'is een fan I wirked at the Royal Breetish Leejyin:

Fit div ye cry twa coloured loons in a yella van?

The Cooncil

(Note: That's not me telling a joke the punchline of which centres around a racist slur, that's me telling a story of another person who once told me that joke. I was disgusted)

I love old people who aren't racist at all but still call people "coloured" cos they just da ken.

[MC Nice Andrew]

I remember sare fingger. We were forced to read that and other traditional scottish poems in a dialect every year as part of some competition; I still retained some of my yorkshire accent at this point and every year was a hilarious embarresment, ridiculous hopeman rules. I subsequently lost a good chunk of my native tounge as an attempt to not be laughed at and fit in; godamn my young impressionable self, i miss having a novelty accent.

I digress, with everyone else.

There was a family of balloons, Daddy Balloon, Mummy Balloon and Baby Balloon.

They were all sitting around watching TV when an advert came on for the scary film which was showing next. Baby Balloon asked his dad if he could stay up and watch it:

Daddy Balloon: 'No son, you know what happens, you'll get too scared and end up sleeping in our bed; you've got to learn to grow up and stay in your own bed.'

Baby Balloon: ' Please Daddy, I promise i'll stay in my own bed! It dosn't even look that scary!'

Daddy Balloon: 'No.'

After much nagging and whining, Daddy Balloon eventually caved in and let his son stay up and watch the scary film, with the agreement he stay in his own bed.

So they all stayed up and watched the film and went to bed. Baby Balloon though maybe that he shouldn't have stayed up to watch the film, as it was pretty scary. After lying in the dark, scared witless of every small sound and shadow, he decided to go against his father's word and sneak through and try to get in his parent's bed without waking them.

When he got there, there wasn't enough room for him to fit in between his mother and father. He went to the bottom of his dad and untied him so he could let a little air out, in the hope of making more room for himself. He tried to squeeze in again, but there was still not enough room. He untied his mother's knot and let some air out of her too. 'Still a bit too tight', he thought before letting a small amount of air of himself. Perfect, and he drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, His mum and dad were standing over him as he woke, clearly angry with the realisation of what had done last night.

Daddy Balloon: 'Son, I know what you did last night. I'm not angry, though you let me down, your mum down, buit most of all you let yourself down.'

[Le Stu]

I now have this in my head:

The de'els awa, the de'els awa, ;the de'els awa wi ciseman

He's danced awa, he's danced awa...

Fucked if I can recall the rest. Something about tax collectors? Fucking hated doing this pish. Calleigh dancing too. I wanna ride my bike and wear my Airwolf mittens.

[Lemonade]

As my Gran used to say:

"Reed and green should nivver be seen,

For at's the colour o' the devil's een".

I still remember that on the rare occasions when I'm wearing red and green together. Mind you she was a bit mental.

[Le Stu]

How many engineers does it take to change a lightbulb?

None, call maintenance.

At least I'm back on topic.

[Skubbs]

Ha ha, I was always taught the big banana feet version of that rhyme, had completely forgotten all about it until I read your post.

Skinny Malinky long legs

Big banana feet

Went tae the pictures

And couldnae get a seat

When the picture started

Skinny Malinky farted

Skinny Malinky long legs

Big banana feet

Still makes me smile.

This is what I remember from her poem (with actions)

Skinny Malinky lang legs, pinty lang beak

Wint tae the fermyard but couldnae find nae meat,

When the fermer came by, bubbly jock said "aye aye"

and I can't remember the rest.

The thing is, they're not taught any other poems, it's all doric. When I was at Skene Square primary I don't recall being taught doric poems, but when I started at Alford that was all we learnt - apart from that Grampian Poetry Competition where we had to write a poem and submit it, and the winners from the class would get it published in the book. That wasn't allowed to be in doric for some reason.

[Skubbs]

In the sleepy village of Erbum, near the town of Tillet, Hertfordshire, lives a woman called Linda Lykes. She's the landlady of the local pub, The Cockwell Inn, and for some unknown reason she gets embarassed whenever her mail arrives:

Linda Lykes,

The Cockwell Inn,

Erbum,

Tillet,

Herts

Yes, I laugh at crap jokes

[Lemonade]

We studied and recited doric poetry right through primary school, but you weren't allowed to speak Doric in the classroom. ?(

[JaseyBoi]

So i heard today Heather mills is officially gold digger of the year 2009....It got me thinking......

Would she get that leg on a spade?.....And would it effect her balance?.