FabSwingers.com forum: The weekend ‘Come Hither’ thread inc Robert Burns!

By *iamondCougar OP Woman
over a year ago

Norfuck! / Lincolnshire

I thought I’d change up the PHWOAAR thread to something different this weekend. Instead of the usual this weeks is a sexy ‘ Come Hither’ thread so off you go fab forumites!

Since it is also Burns Night celebrating the life of Robert Burns - for those of us off to enjoy Haggis, Tatties and Neaps tonight have a great time...

Selkirk Grace:

The ‘Selkirk Grace’ is a well-known thanksgiving poem said before meals. It is usually said after guests have sat down to enjoy a Burns Night supper, before the first course is served.

Some hae meat and canna eat,

And some wad eat that want it;

But we hae meat, and we can eat,

Sae let the Lord be thankit.

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By *rAitchMan
over a year ago

Diagonally Parked in a Parallel Universe

The Haggis

https://youtu.be/7apCNIpyOvk

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By *irth.Minge.FireMan
over a year ago

Seen in far off places

Pour me a double Haig Club single malt...

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By *iamondCougar OP Woman
over a year ago

Norfuck! / Lincolnshire

"Pour me a double Haig Club single malt..."

Please!

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By *irth.Minge.FireMan
over a year ago

Seen in far off places

"Pour me a double Haig Club single malt...

Please! "

Oh yes, and a pretty one of those...

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

I'm not a fan of haggis so I won't be indulging tonight

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By *nabelle21Woman
over a year ago

B38

My dad's Scottish, I wonder if he's familiar with the poem..I happen to be at his. I'll ask him when he wakes

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By *ottielayWoman
over a year ago

by the bay

Can I have a Highland fling please DC x

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By *heBirminghamWeekendMan
over a year ago

here

After the haggis is piped in the traditional address to the haggis

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,

Great chieftain o the puddin'-race!

Aboon them a' ye tak your place,

Painch, tripe, or thairm:

Weel are ye worthy o' a grace

As lang's my arm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,

Your hurdies like a distant hill,

Your pin wad help to mend a mill

In time o need,

While thro your pores the dews distil

Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour dight,

An cut you up wi ready slight,

Trenching your gushing entrails bright,

Like onie ditch;

And then, O what a glorious sight,

Warm-reekin, rich!

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an strive:

Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,

Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve

Are bent like drums;

The auld Guidman, maist like to rive,

'Bethankit' hums.

Is there that owre his French ragout,

Or olio that wad staw a sow,

Or fricassee wad mak her spew

Wi perfect scunner,

Looks down wi sneering, scornfu view

On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him owre his trash,

As feckless as a wither'd rash,

His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,

His nieve a nit;

Thro bloody flood or field to dash,

O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,

The trembling earth resounds his tread,

Clap in his walie nieve a blade,

He'll make it whissle;

An legs an arms, an heads will sned,

Like taps o thrissle.

Ye Pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care,

And dish them out their bill o fare,

Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware

That jaups in luggies:

But, if ye wish her gratefu prayer,

Gie her a Haggis

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By *iamondCougar OP Woman
over a year ago

Norfuck! / Lincolnshire

"Pour me a double Haig Club single malt...

Please!

Oh yes, and a pretty one of those..."

There ya go GMF - enjoy!

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By *iamondCougar OP Woman
over a year ago

Norfuck! / Lincolnshire

"Can I have a Highland fling please DC x "

You certainly can Lottie!

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By *iamondCougar OP Woman
over a year ago

Norfuck! / Lincolnshire

"After the haggis is piped in the traditional address to the haggis

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,

Great chieftain o the puddin'-race!

Aboon them a' ye tak your place,

Painch, tripe, or thairm:

Weel are ye worthy o' a grace

As lang's my arm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,

Your hurdies like a distant hill,

Your pin wad help to mend a mill

In time o need,

While thro your pores the dews distil

Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour dight,

An cut you up wi ready slight,

Trenching your gushing entrails bright,

Like onie ditch;

And then, O what a glorious sight,

Warm-reekin, rich!

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an strive:

Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,

Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve

Are bent like drums;

The auld Guidman, maist like to rive,

'Bethankit' hums.

Is there that owre his French ragout,

Or olio that wad staw a sow,

Or fricassee wad mak her spew

Wi perfect scunner,

Looks down wi sneering, scornfu view

On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him owre his trash,

As feckless as a wither'd rash,

His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,

His nieve a nit;

Thro bloody flood or field to dash,

O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,

The trembling earth resounds his tread,

Clap in his walie nieve a blade,

He'll make it whissle;

An legs an arms, an heads will sned,

Like taps o thrissle.

Ye Pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care,

And dish them out their bill o fare,

Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware

That jaups in luggies:

But, if ye wish her gratefu prayer,

Gie her a Haggis"

Thank you

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By *heBirminghamWeekendMan
over a year ago

here

Translation for the sassenachs

Good luck to you and your honest, plump face,

Great chieftain of the sausage race!

Above them all you take your place,

Stomach, tripe, or intestines:

Well are you worthy of a grace

As long as my arm.

The groaning trencher there you fill,

Your buttocks like a distant hill,

Your pin would help to mend a mill

In time of need,

While through your pores the dews distill

Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour wipe,

And cut you up with ready slight,

Trenching your gushing entrails bright,

Like any ditch;

And then, O what a glorious sight,

Warm steaming, rich!

Then spoon for spoon, the stretch and strive:

Devil take the hindmost, on they drive,

Till all their well swollen bellies by-and-by

Are bent like drums;

Then old head of the table, most like to burst,

'The grace!' hums.

Is there that over his French ragout,

Or olio that would sicken a sow,

Or fricassee would make her vomit

With perfect disgust,

Looks down with sneering, scornful view

On such a dinner?

Poor devil! see him over his trash,

As feeble as a withered rush,

His thin legs a good whip-lash,

His fist a nut;

Through bloody flood or field to dash,

O how unfit.

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,

The trembling earth resounds his tread,

Clap in his ample fist a blade,

He'll make it whistle;

And legs, and arms, and heads will cut off

Like the heads of thistles.

You powers, who make mankind your care,

And dish them out their bill of fare,

Old Scotland wants no watery stuff,

That splashes in small wooden dishes;

But if you wish her grateful prayer,

Give her [Scotland] a Haggis!

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By *ottielayWoman
over a year ago

by the bay

"Can I have a Highland fling please DC x

You certainly can Lottie!

Thank you

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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago

Happy Haggis Day Fabsters

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By *iamondCougar OP Woman
over a year ago

Norfuck! / Lincolnshire

"Happy Haggis Day Fabsters

Afternoon PB

indeed!

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By *MP3Man
over a year ago

Between Scylla and Charybdis

"Can I have a Highland fling please DC x

You certainly can Lottie!

Weel done, Cutty-sark!

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By *MP3Man
over a year ago

Between Scylla and Charybdis

I'll skip on the Haig Club and have a Macallan please, DC

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By *heBirminghamWeekendMan
over a year ago

here

"Can I have a Highland fling please DC x

You certainly can Lottie!

Weel done, Cutty-sark!

And in an instant all was dark

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By *iamondCougar OP Woman
over a year ago

Norfuck! / Lincolnshire

"I'll skip on the Haig Club and have a Macallan please, DC

Afternoon SMP3

anything for you but since it’s only a Macallan...... there you are and enjoy x

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