Scotland/England History - A Joke and a Poem...

Edward Longshanks (Edward I of England) Came to Scotland to Conquer the Scots. He brought 4,000 men with him. As he neared the battlefield, there suddenly appeared a solitary figure on the crest of the hill, a short, ginger-haired guy in a kilt.

'Hammer O the Scots?' yells the wee Scottish guy on the hill. 'Come up here, ya English swine, And I'll give ye a hammerin'!'

Edward turns to his commander. 'Send 20 men to deal with that little Scottish upstart, he said. The commander sent twenty of his best men over the hill to kill the Scotsman.
Ten minutes later, at the crest of the hill, The little Scot appeared again. 'Ya English diddies!' he yells. 'Come on the rest of ye!! Come on, I'll have ye all!'
Edward is getting somewhat annoyed... .. He turned to his commander. 'Send 100 men to kill that little guttersnipe!' The commander sends 100 men over the hill to do the job.
Ten minutes later, the little Scot appears at the top of the Hill once more, his hair all sticking up, His shirt a wee bit torn. 'Ya English SCUM!' he yells. 'I'm just warming up!! Come and get me, Ya English beggars !!'

Edward losses patience. 'Commander, take 400 men and personally WIPE HIM OFF THE EARTH!' he yells. The commander gulps, but leads four Hundred men on horseback over the crest of the hill. Ten minutes later, the little Scotsman is back. His clothing is all torn and his face is covered in blood, Snot and Irn-Bru. 'Is that the best ye can do?? You're bloody WUMMIN! Come on!! Come and have a go ya bunch of English Bampots !' he screams ....

Edward turns to his second in command. 'Take 1,000 men over that hill and don't come back Till you've killed him!' he commands. The second in command gathers the men and they ride off over the hill to their fate. Ten minutes later, one of the English troops appears back At the top of the hill. He's covered in blood and sweat and his clothes are all torn. 'Your Majesty!' he yells.

"It's a trap sir ! There's TWO of them!"
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Now 'that' was fun and would be funny to Scots the world over .... The Scots and English have what you would call a love / hate relationship .... Please note the story is given in fun and is 'not' intended to be insulting to the English folk reading this - that is unless you are related to any of the Englishmen who didn't 'make it back' from the foregoing melee .... OK ?
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The next one is a bit near the bone and rather tongue in cheek - Hope if makes you laugh as much as it did me... It was voted Best Joke in Ireland :

John O'Reilly hoisted his beer and said, "Here's to spending the rest of me life!, between the legs of me wife!" That won him the top prize at the pub for the best toast of the night! He went home and told his wife, Mary, "I won the prize for the Best toast of the night" She said, "Aye, did ye now. And what was your toast?" John said, "Here's to spending the rest of me life, sitting in church beside me wife." "Oh, that is very nice indeed, John!" Mary said. The next day, Mary ran into one of John's drinking buddies on the street corner. The man chuckled leeringly and said, "John won the prize the other night at the pub with a toast about you, Mary." She said, "Aye, he told me, and I was a bit surprised myself. You know, he's only been there twice in the last four years. Once he fell asleep, and the other time I had to pull him by the ears to make him come..... Ohhhh my word !
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Anyone who has read this blog previously will know that I'm a sentimental old biddy who loves stories and poems which have meaning and can turn on yer tears . I found a great site which has quite a few of these things which I appreciate and love - so I'm going to add a 'soppy story' or poem to my blog, I hope you enjoy them as much as I do. Hey lom ye'd better get yer hankies ready pal... though this one isn't as sad as some I've earmarked !

First one is called - Housework Can Wait.
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Come in, but don't expect to find
all dishes done and floors all shined
Observe the crumbs and toys galore.
The smudgy prints upon the door.
The little ones we shelter here
don't thrive on a spotless atmosphere.
They're more inclined to disarray
and carefree even messy play.
Their needs are great, their patience small.
All day I'm at their beck and call.
It's Mummy come! Mummy see!
Wiggly worms and red scraped knee.
Painted pictures, blocks piled high.
My floors unshined, the days go by.
Some future day they'll flee this nest,
And I at last will have a rest!
Now you tell me which matters more,
A happy child or a polished floor?...

Author Unknown.
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Cheers from the land of the Tartan and the Heather, Love Kate xxx.