A Scottish old timer (Jeremy Saxton at 65) in Scotland was
sitting in a bar, talking to a young man. Lad, look out there to
the field. Do ya see that fence? Look how well its built. I built
that fence stone by stone with me own two hands. I piled it for
months. But do they call me Saxton-the-Fence-Builder? Nooo..
Then the old man gestured at the bar. Look here at the bar. Do ya
see how smooth and just it is? I planed that surface down by me own
achin back. I carved that wood with me own hard labour, for eight
days. But do they call me Saxton-the-Bar-builder? Nooo
Then the old man points out the window. Eh, Laddy, look out to
sea. Do ya see that pier that stretches out as far as the eye can
see? I built that pier with the sweat off me back. I nailed it
board by board. But do they call me Saxton-the-Pier-Builder?
Nooo
Then the old man looks around nervously, trying to make sure no one
is paying attention. But ya fuk one goat
