Scottish Jokes

[Stirling Thompson]

This tale concerns the Scottish poet, Thomas Campbell.

Campbell, when a young man, was on a walking tour in the South of Scotland and met a very stormy spell of weather in the midst of the Lowther Hills. He made for the nearest inn and, after a hearty meal of ham and eggs, he got himself to bed. It was a wild wet night, but the inn was dark and cosy, and the young Scottish poet lay musing upon his latest poem.

Suddenly there came a gentle tap at the door and the dainty little serving lass, shading a candle with her hand, slipped quietly into the room. She crept up to the bedside table and smiling shyly, whispered, "Sir, could take another into your bed ?"

"With all my heart," breathed the young poet.

"I thank you, sir," said the young lass, "for Johnny MacGrizzle, the Moffat cattleman, has just arrived, soaked to the skin."

And that is supposed to have suggested to Campbell the title of his next volume, The Pleasure of Hope.

[Graham Thompson]

A Irisg Ghost Story. Irish Scottish there close but not. The jock is still funny.   

This story happened a while ago in Dublin, and even though it sounds like an Alfred Hitchcock tale, its true!!!!!   

John Bradford, a Dublin University student, was on the side of the road hitchhiking on a very dark night and in the midst of a big storm.

  The night was rolling on and no car went by. The storm was so strong he could hardly see a few feet ahead of him. Suddenly, he saw a car slowly coming towards him and stopped. John, desperate for shelter and without thinking about it, got into the car and closed the door.. only to realize there was nobody behind the wheel and the engine wasn't on . 

 The car started moving slowly. John looked at the road ahead and saw a curve approaching. Scared, he started to pray, begging for his life. Then, just before the car hit the curve, a hand appeared out of no where through the window and turned the wheel. John, paralyzed with terror, watched as the hand came through the window, but never touched or harmed him. 

 Shortly thereafter John saw the lights of a pub appear down the road, so, gathering strength, he jumped out of the car and ran to it. Wet and out of breath, he rushed inside and started telling everybody about the horrible experience he had just had.   A silence enveloped the pub when everybody realized he was crying and....wasn't drunk.

  Suddenly, the door opened, and two other people walked in from the dark and stormy night. They, like John, were also soaked and out of breath. Looking around, and seeing John Bradford sobbing at the bar, one said to the other...   

'Look Paddy.....there's that f*king idiot that got in the car while we were pushing it!!!!'

[Duke Thompson]

Thanks Graham, I'll be retelling Irish Ghost Story for a month!!!

[Donna]

Hey Graham,
That was a good one!  I'm going to print it out so I don't mess it up when I
retell it.

Donna

[Graham Thompson]

Im glad everyone liked it. My grandma emailed it to me

[Stirling Thompson]

I think this happened on the road from Kelso to Jedburg...

A farmer who's been involved in a terrible road accident with a large truck ended up in court fighting for a big compensation claim.

"I understand you're claiming damages for the injuries you're supposed to have suffered?" Stated the counsel for the insurance company.

"Yes, that's right," replied the farmer, nodding his head.

"You claim you were injured in the accident, yet I have a signed police statement that says that when the attending police officer asked you how you were feeling, you replied, 'I've never felt better in my life.' Is that the case?"

"Yeah, but…" stammered the farmer.

"A simple yes or not will suffice," counsel interrupted quickly.

"Yes," Replied the farmer.

Then it was the turn of the farmer's counsel to ask him questions. "Please tell the court the exact circumstance of events following the accident when you made your statement of health," his lawyer said.

"Certainly," replied the farmer. "After the accident my horse was thrashing around with a broken leg and my poor old dog was howling in pain. This cop comes along, takes one look at my horse and shoots him dead. "Then he goes over to my dog, looks at him and shoots him dead too.

Then he come straight over to me and asked me how I was feeling. "Now, mate, what the hell would you have said to him?"

[Stirling Thompson]

Big Shuggie is on holiday and is stuck at the airport, and proceeds to get very drunk.

After about his tenth big swig at his bottle a little Japanese man accidentally bumps into him, causing the bottle to smash to the floor.

Big Shuggie is furious, he grabs the wee fellah demanding recompense and drags him out of the building.

Next thing he returns with bruises all over his face.

Behind him is the Japanese man who is smiling.

"It is just a small Japanese thing," he explained to the crowd of waiting passengers, who were astonished, "We call it aikido."

But despite having been overwhelmed and tossed to the pavement, Big Shuggie's ire builds up and once more he challenges the Japanese man to 'go ootside'

They do and within a couple of minutes Shuggie is limping back into the building, with the smiling Japanese man behind him

"It is just a small Japanese thing," he explains once more to the impressed crowd, "We call it karate."

As the effects of his mauling at the hands of the wee man wears off, Big Shuggie once more bellows at the Japanese guy that he wants to take him outside and 'batter him wan'

Sighing and shrugging his shoulders, the Japanese man accompanies Shuggie outside.

A couple of minutes later the hushed crowd hear a thud, and Shuggie comes striding back into the airport building, beaming like a champion,

"It wiz just a small Japanese thing," he explains to them, "The bumper aff a Toyota!"

[Barbara]

       Funny jokes fellas, thanks, the laughter is appreciated.

Barbara

[Donna]

Yep, another good one (or two) from Stu! 

Donna

[Stirling Thompson]

It's getting hard to find good, clean ones... found this at some sort seminary!

There was a Scottish tradesman, a painter called Jock, who was very interested in making a pound where he could, so he often would thin down paint to make it go a wee bit further.

As it happened, he got away with this for some time, but eventually the Presbyterian Church decided to do a big restoration job on the roof of one their biggest churches. Jock put in a bid, and because his price was so competitive, he got the job.

And so he set to, with a right good will, erecting the trestles and setting up the planks, and buying the paint and, yes, we're sorry to say, thinning it down with the turpentine.

Well, Jock was up on the scaffolding, painting away, the job nearly done, when suddenly there was a horrendous clap of thunder, and the sky opened and the rain poured down, washing the paint from all over the church and knocking Jock fair off the scaffold to land on the lawn, among the gravestones, surrounded by telltale puddles of the thinned and useless paint.

Jock was no fool. He knew this was a judgment from the Almighty, so he got on his knees and cried: "Oh, God! Forgive me! What should I do?"

And from the thunder, a mighty voice spoke: "Repaint! Repaint and thin no more!"

[Barbara]

    

Barbara

[Stirling Thompson]

Wee Shuggie is in a terrible state and goes to see a private therapist, too terrified to go to a doctor in case they declare him mad!

"So how can I help?" asks the therapist

"It's like this, Ah've started getting these fears at night, and they are getting worse! I keep thinking somebody is under the bed, so I go down under it to look and no-one's there, immediately, my brain tells me there's somebody on top of it and this goes on all night - under - top - under - top. It's driving me mental!"

The therapist thinks for a bit and says, "I am positive I can cure you of this."

"Oh great!" says Wee Shuggie.

"Now, I want you to come and see me twice a week for the next six months for a two hour session each time." says the therapist making some notes.

"And how much will that be?" asks wee Shuggie.

"£60 per session" the therapist informs him.

Shuggie leaves, troubled at the thought of all that money and goes for a consoling drink at his local.

The therapist never sees wee Shuggie again, until one day months later he bumps into him in the street. He is surprised to see him look so well, not the sleep-deprived maniac he had last seen.

"Why did you never come back?" he asks Shug.

"At £60 a pop, twice a week for six months? You must be kidding! The barman at the local cured me for a tenner!"

"How on earth did he do that?"

"He told me to buy a saw and cut the legs off the bed!"

[Stirling Thompson]

Filming in Scotland can be a difficult task given the ever-changing patterns of weather - as the old saying goes - want to experience four seasons? Come to Scotland on a day trip!

A film crew were filming in the highlands when an old Gaelic seer came hobbling by,
"Tommorow rain." he informed them and hobbled on.

Sure enough it rained the very next day.

Again he hobbled past. "Tomorrow sunshine." he let them know, and it was indeed a fine sunny day the next day,

The director was mighty impressed and got the crew to hire him and every day the wise old sage predicted accurately what the weather would be.

But after a couple of weeks the old man didn't show up and eventually the director found him in a bothy.

"Hey, we need your predictions, why aren't you showing up."

"Radio broken." the old man replied.

[Stirling Thompson]

Gloria Finds a Bargain

Gloria was the typical penny-pinching Scottish old maid. So conservative most men thought, no way would she ever land a normal husband.  She was the type who would probably scald him before she agreed to sleep with him. Well, she never did, but that had nothing to do with her persistent love for shopping for a bargain.

One early spring day, Gloria could be found in the ritzy shopping mall, and this time a beautiful red wool suit caught her immediate attention. Rushing inside the store, she asked a clerk, "do you have another of those red wool suits like the one I saw from outside in the window?"

"Yes, lady," the sales clerk began. "Wait here, and I'll check in the back to make sure."

Shortly, the clerk returned, and Gloria's ear-to-ear smile said she was bound to make a purchase within minutes.

"May I try it on?" asked Gloria.

The clerk handed the suit to Gloria and showed her to the dressing room. In seconds, Gloria was back and admiring herself in that nice red wool suit in the closest mirror.

"May I wrap it for you, or do you wish to wear it?" asked the clerk.

"Oh," said Gloria, "I forgot to ask. What's the price? How much are you asking for it?"

"It's $149.95," the clerk answered.

"Damn!" said Gloria, as she rushed back to the dressing area to take off the suit, "no way am I going to pay that much of my hard earned for one wool suit!" Shortly, she was dressed and out of the store.

A little while later in the shopping center, Gloria spotted another dress that looked exactly like the one she had tried on at the first store. She just had to do it, so Gloria went in. This time, her first question was about the price of the red wool suit. Upon learning the price and checking it out to prove to herself that it was, indeed the same suit at a much better price, Gloria paid for the new dress, and with it neatly boxed and under her arm, she rushed back to the first store.

"See here," Gloria all but shouted when she spotted the clerk who tried to sell her an over-priced same, same suit. "Look what I found at another dress shop, and it only cost me $49.95!"

"Yes, lady," the clerk attempted to maintain her temperament, "this is not the same suit. The one you tried on here is made of virgin wool."

Gloria thought about that momentarily, looked deep into the sales lady's eyes, and said, "Damn! I saved $100.00. What the hell do I care what the sheep do at night!"

[Stirling Thompson]

One misty Scottish morning a man was driving through the hills to Inverness.

Suddenly out of the mist, a massive red-haired highlander stepped into the middle of the road. The man is at least six feet four and has the appearance of a walking wardrobe. He has a huge red beard and despite the wind, mist and near freezing temperatures, is wearing only his kilt, a tweed shirt and a tam-o'-shanter at a rakish angle. At the roadside there also stands a young women. She is absolutely beautiful - slim, shapely, fair complexion, golden hair....... heart stopping.

The driver stops and stares, and his attention is only distracted from the lovely girl when the red thing opens the car door and drags him from his seat onto the road with a fist resembling a whole raw ham.

"Right, you Jimmy" he shouts, "Ah want you to masturbate,"

"But......" stammers the driver.

"Du it now...or I'll bluddy kill yer!"

So the driver turns his back on the girl, drops his trousers and starts to masturbate. Thinking of the girl on the roadside this doesn't take him long.

"Right" snarls the highlander "Du it again!"

"But....." says the driver.

"Now!"

So the driver does it again.

"Right laddie, du it again" demands the highlander.

This goes on for nearly two hours. The hapless driver gets cramps in both arms, he has rubbed himself raw, has violent knob-ache, his sight is failing (as promised for years by his priest) and despite the cold wind has collapsed in a sweating, jibbering heap on the ground, unable to stand.

"Du it again" says the highlander.

"I can't do it anymore - you'll just have to kill me," whimpers the man.

The highlander looks down at the pathetic soul slumped on the roadside. "All right laddie," he says, "NOW you can give ma daughter a lift to Inverness."