By-Tor.com

How's it goin', folks. Funny story. When I was living in in Toronto a couple of years ago I was bitten on the finger by a moose. I was renting an apartment and had only been there about two days. Anyway, I was having breakfast one afternoon when I heard the squeaking. I knew what it was but I didn't know where it was coming from. Eventually I found it. You guessed it, caught in a trap. Being the soft get that I am I tried to release it. No chance, stuck fast. Then the wee bastard bit me! Right on the tip of my finger. About two seconds later the beast was dead. You don't need the details. Anyway, distressed, and already hung over from the excesses of the previous night, I retired to my bedroom for a spliff. Three doobies later and my sense of humour returned. I'd heard about Rabies in Canada and though this looked unlikely the weed can have a powerful effect when you're all alone. I needed to see a doctor. I found the number of a local clinic (corner of College & Major) and started to phone them. While I waited for someone to pick up the phone at the other end I saw the comic potential. "Hullo, ah've bin bitten by a moose". They asked if I needed an ambulance but I told them it probably wouldn't be neccessary but that I could attend within minutes as I was only round the corner. I walked in clutching the wrong finger (I'd forgotten which one it was) and immediately got a bollocking off what must have been The Matron. Most of the staff in the office thought it was a hoot. I waited an hour and a half to get one lousy prick. The doctor was very old, I mean Methusellah Old. "Scottish, right"? "Aye", said I. Try to imagine Gollum here. "Whisssky", said he. Turns out, his sister married into a Scottish family and once a year, without fail, he visits his sister (and her insufferable husband) on the pretence of playing Golf. Needless to say, he hates Golf. But he just loves whisky. Two strange things here. His sister lives in my hometown and, he'd heard my joke before. Although, funnily enough,the fact that his receptionist hadn't, filled him with great pleasure.P.S. There's nae Rabies in Ontario. The moral of this story? Perhaps just the two joints would have been enough

P.S. awip2062

Nae' chance!

rorythedog wrote:P.S. awip2062

Nae' chance!

Oh? So I can stalk you as much as I please and you willae go away?

hmm...

*Stalking RTD*

Disnae' bother me.

So we can't scare youaway that easily, eh? Maybe we will try harder.

Still waiting for our lesson, RTD.

Why would you want to scare me away?

Cuz you haven't given us any more Schufanity lessons!

rorythedog wrote:How's it goin', folks. Funny story. When I was living in in Toronto a couple of years ago I was bitten on the finger by a moose. I was renting an apartment and had only been there about two days. Anyway, I was having breakfast one afternoon when I heard the squeaking. I knew what it was but I didn't know where it was coming from. Eventually I found it. You guessed it, caught in a trap. Being the soft get that I am I tried to release it. No chance, stuck fast. Then the wee bastard bit me! Right on the tip of my finger. About two seconds later the beast was dead. You don't need the details. Anyway, distressed, and already hung over from the excesses of the previous night, I retired to my bedroom for a spliff. Three doobies later and my sense of humour returned. I'd heard about Rabies in Canada and though this looked unlikely the weed can have a powerful effect when you're all alone. I needed to see a doctor. I found the number of a local clinic (corner of College & Major) and started to phone them. While I waited for someone to pick up the phone at the other end I saw the comic potential. "Hullo, ah've bin bitten by a moose". They asked if I needed an ambulance but I told them it probably wouldn't be neccessary but that I could attend within minutes as I was only round the corner. I walked in clutching the wrong finger (I'd forgotten which one it was) and immediately got a bollocking off what must have been The Matron. Most of the staff in the office thought it was a hoot. I waited an hour and a half to get one lousy prick. The doctor was very old, I mean Methusellah Old. "Scottish, right"? "Aye", said I. Try to imagine Gollum here. "Whisssky", said he. Turns out, his sister married into a Scottish family and once a year, without fail, he visits his sister (and her insufferable husband) on the pretence of playing Golf. Needless to say, he hates Golf. But he just loves whisky. Two strange things here. His sister lives in my hometown and, he'd heard my joke before. Although, funnily enough,the fact that his receptionist hadn't, filled him with great pleasure.P.S. There's nae Rabies in Ontario. The moral of this story? Perhaps just the two joints would have been enough

I think you mean a mouse lol. Moose are big bovine like animals , relatives of the deer, look like a funny horse

I think you mean a mouse lol. Moose are big bovine like animals , relatives of the deer, look like a funny horse
Sir Myghin, are you serious? That's the joke! In Scotland (at least in the Central Belt) mouse is pronounced moose! Just as a dog is a "dug", a horse is a "hoarse" - which is two sweary words rolled into one - and a cow is a "coo". A cat is still an "arrogant, psychotic mammal better worn as a hat"

rorythedog wrote:I think you mean a mouse lol. Moose are big bovine like animals , relatives of the deer, look like a funny horse
Sir Myghin, are you serious? That's the joke! In Scotland (at least in the Central Belt) mouse is pronounced moose! Just as a dog is a "dug", a horse is a "hoarse" - which is two sweary words rolled into one - and a cow is a "coo". A cat is still an "arrogant, psychotic mammal better worn as a hat"

i figured it as such, but i'd razz you anyway, and i hate cats too

The Big Bang, the ultimate hero of low frequency.
A devine, intergalactical bass drum,
Connecting the tribes of our Solar System.

If we could communicate,
From our tiny piece of solar driftwood.
Into another galaxy, what would we say?

We can send out pictures, symbols,
Chemical formulas or language.

The magic of music is a sign of consciousness,
That could be understood on far flung worlds.
Millions of light years from our horizon.

Music is an interstellar language from a highly insignificant planet,
One of nine in our system, which sails through time and space.
Until the next one, the next, inevitable Big Bang.

*Stalking RTD*

You be nice to my kitties or I gonna kill you then kill you again!

obviously I'm bored .....I forgot about this and it made me laugh ma fuckin arse off

btw

Gonna gie's a break, fur christs' sake! It's ba'bag. Two "l"'s are missing, no "w" is inserted. Profanity is in the eye of the beholder. We Scots have many ways of expressing ourselves (though it's probably fair to say that few are quite as productive as the odd piece of verbal colloquialism). Need more?

fucking bullshit!......so it's ba'bag as in the sheep's fucking bleat bag.......this guy was obviously an arsehole!

dont listen to him as a tutor...it is really bawbag......still a blast from the past and cheers again fur the laff

better say a few shits as well eh
shit shit shitting shit

Mumsey, do we need to start more threads so you won't be bored?

rorythedog wrote:How's it goin', folks. Funny story. When I was living in in Toronto a couple of years ago I was bitten on the finger by a moose. I was renting an apartment and had only been there about two days. Anyway, I was having breakfast one afternoon when I heard the squeaking. I knew what it was but I didn't know where it was coming from. Eventually I found it. You guessed it, caught in a trap. Being the soft get that I am I tried to release it. No chance, stuck fast. Then the wee bastard bit me! Right on the tip of my finger. About two seconds later the beast was dead. You don't need the details. Anyway, distressed, and already hung over from the excesses of the previous night, I retired to my bedroom for a spliff. Three doobies later and my sense of humour returned. I'd heard about Rabies in Canada and though this looked unlikely the weed can have a powerful effect when you're all alone. I needed to see a doctor. I found the number of a local clinic (corner of College & Major) and started to phone them. While I waited for someone to pick up the phone at the other end I saw the comic potential. "Hullo, ah've bin bitten by a moose". They asked if I needed an ambulance but I told them it probably wouldn't be neccessary but that I could attend within minutes as I was only round the corner. I walked in clutching the wrong finger (I'd forgotten which one it was) and immediately got a bollocking off what must have been The Matron. Most of the staff in the office thought it was a hoot. I waited an hour and a half to get one lousy prick. The doctor was very old, I mean Methusellah Old. "Scottish, right"? "Aye", said I. Try to imagine Gollum here. "Whisssky", said he. Turns out, his sister married into a Scottish family and once a year, without fail, he visits his sister (and her insufferable husband) on the pretence of playing Golf. Needless to say, he hates Golf. But he just loves whisky. Two strange things here. His sister lives in my hometown and, he'd heard my joke before. Although, funnily enough,the fact that his receptionist hadn't, filled him with great pleasure.P.S. There's nae Rabies in Ontario. The moral of this story? Perhaps just the two joints would have been enough

I just saw this thread and got a really good laugh where was I don't know for sure but it wasn't me either. I'm going to have to go back and read this whole darn funny thing the now.