Skinny Malinky Longlegs!


And right he may be a tall and thin person, but pure dead brilliant all the same.   So, to all the skinny Scotsmen, and especially those in kilts…
A little dialogue between the lunatic and the fringe…

The timid young woman approached her idol, hoping for a word and possibly an autograph.  Little did she expect what would ensue.
He was, at first, congenial and willing to sign her program.  Unexpectedly, he started to converse in the Scotch Gaelic dialect, and she with only a smattering of understanding.
“D’ye spaek Scots?” Oh, she groped for a reply, hoping to imitate his lovely brogue.
“Aye, juist a wee bittie”, so relieved to have managed that little phrase.  Then she thought of something else, and saw no harm in it until after it had escaped her lips…
“Foo d’ye say  “‘Dig the outfit, babe” in Scots?”
His eyes took on a look of concern, and then offense at the untoward request.
“Lae me aloyn! ” He fairly shouted at her, then attempted to turn on his patent leather heels and flee her presence.
“A’m sairy!” Her remorse was too late, and she lamented at her faux pax.  Then, in a rush, she fairly sang out another phrase from the guidebook, confusing it with what had been in the next column.  Instead of her intended plea, Good sir, we can sweep it all away with bloodshot eyes,(and even that did not fully convey her apology), she shocked the crowd by screaming at the top of her lungs… 
“Goad a’michty! Ma dampt hoovercraft’s breemin’ ower wi bluiddy eyls!”
Those in attendance looked fervently in every direction, trying to locate the hovercraft she spoke of,  security quickly secreted the tall Scot away in his tartan regalia, and she, poor thing, went back to her hotel without an autograph. 
“Ane leid is ne’er enough”, she mumbled to no one in particular, and vowed to study the strange language even more diligently before she next approached a tall skinny Scotsman.
The moral of the story is this: 
Don’t follow a Scotsman when he decides to turn on his ‘eels.

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