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Post by Niffy on Mar 25, 2009 21:54:18 GMT 1
JIM O'SHACHTER
Intae the wids amongst the trees Jim bared his erse, his cheeks tae ease Nae sooner had his breeks gan doon Than shity flees were swarmin roon
Intae the wind he bared his baws And frae his erse a big keeck faws The reek it curled amongst the trees Twis enough tae mak the birdies sneeze An a the beasts in burn and ditch Got a whiff o something awfy rich
Big Jim he wis in awfy pain It came out his erse like a nine pun wean There wis a tear faw fae his ee Fur a bigger shite you'd never see
Big Jims erse wis raw and sair Says Big Jim I'll shite nae mair Yonder it lay among the grit A steemin, stinkin muckle shit
There it lay sae soft sae fresh Nae hair ,nae teeth, nae brains, nae flesh Tae wipe his erse Jim yaised a docken While a aroon the birds were boacken
Jim happed it ower wi stanes and stoor Then sauntered off across the moor A wee bit quicker wi bein sae light Efter riddin himself o that muckle shite
Noo a've telt ye this tale for a wee bit laughter A tale ye can tell for ever after A tell ye noo, a swear its true The tale o Jim O'Shachter
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