of manhoods and more

I set my pint on the counter
an’ leaned forward a wee bit mair,
hoping thereby tae gather
some meager comprehension.

It was not an act of manliness,
no by any means, for after all
the warming whiskey in my belly
forbade me from standin’ erect.

Yet he seemed tae think rather
I was trying tae come off as mair
intimidating than I had intended
tae be at that precise moment.

So “Fuck off!” he declared
leaving me bemused and anxious.
“I meant nothing by it, mate,”
he concluded most decisively.

I had nae desire tae explain
to this wee gormless pillock,
who clearly had nae idea
what it meant tae be a man.

Instead I thought it enough to slur,
“ ‘Tis not the size o’ your cock
that truly matters, mate,
but the content o’ yer character!”

Then grinning I fell off my stool,
climbed back up off the floor,
and stumbled oot the door thinking,
‘You sure told him, ya prick.’

7 thoughts on “of manhoods and more

    • Insults in Scots are a lot of fun. The greatest variety are just different ways of calling someone an idiot, like tube, bampot, roaster, numpty, dobber, walloper … and the list goes on and on. Gives the impression that Scots are a bit on edge, doesn’t it?

      Liked by 1 person

    • Cheers, Lia. I especially remember the stumbling. And being helped to the car. And my wife tells me that I cheerfully greeted everyone we passed on the way to the car. I’m not so sure I remember that part of it. Still, nice to think that when it comes down to it, I’m naught but a happy drunk.

      Liked by 1 person

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