One for the Scots...

Tony Blair is opening a new hospital in Edinburgh. Some PR bright spark says it would be a good idea to get some snaps of Tony talking with some of the patients, so a consultant duly leads Tony onto the nearest ward.

Up at the first bed, the patient sits bolt upright in bed, grabs Blair's arm and says:
"Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie! Thou need na start awa sae hasty, Wi' bickering brattle!"

Quickly onto the next bed where the patient stares Blair up and down and says:
"Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face, Great chieftain o' the puddin-race! Aboon them a' ye tak your place, Painch, tripe, or thairm:"

Finally the last bed where the patient, with eyeballs whizzing round and round says:
"Ha! whare ye gaun' ye crowlin ferlie? Your impudence protects you sairly;
I canna say but ye strunt rarely Owre gauze and lace,"

Blair has finally had enough and turns on the consultant: "It's a stitch up, you've brought me onto a psychiatric ward deliberately!"

"No," replies the consultant, "this is the Serious Burns Unit."

Coming out of the closetBest Venn Diagram EverBran muffinsThe life science examinationThe moral of the storyenjoyed the jokes?
treat John to a coffee

...and maybe a sticky bun :)