A bit of culture for Burns Night- some bawdy big cock verse!

Discussion in 'Et Cetera, Et Cetera' started by Nottswanker, Jan 25, 2010.

  1. Nottswanker

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    From "The Merry Muses of Caledonia", a private collection of smutty poems published by Robert Burns in 1799:

    Nine Inch Will Please a Lady

    "Come rede me, dame, come tell me, dame,
    "My dame come tell me truly,
    "What length o graith, when weel ca'd hame,
    "Will sair a wumman duly?"
    The carlin clew her wanton tail,
    Her wanton tail sae ready--
    I learned a sang in Annandale,
    Nine inch will please a lady.--

    But for a koontrie cunt like mine,
    In sooth, we're nae sae gentle;
    We'll tak tway thoum-breid to the nine,
    An that's a sonsy pentle:
    O Leeze me on my Chairlie lad,
    I'll ne'er forget my Chairlie!
    Tway roarin handfus an a daud,
    He nidge't it in fou rarely.--

    But weary fa' the laithron doup,
    An mey it ne'er be thrivin!
    It's no the length that maks me lowp,
    But it's the dooble drivin.--
    Come nidge me, Tam, come nidge me, Tam,
    Come nidge me ower the nyvel!
    Come lowse & lug your batterin ram,
    An thrash him at my gyvel!
     
  2. crescendo69

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    I need a translator; sounds baudy!
     
  3. D_Ted Riding Hooded

    D_Ted Riding Hooded New Member

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    Are you going to 'Address to the Haggis' Notts?
     
  4. Nottswanker

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    Matthew you great chieftain o' the puddin-race!
     
  5. StrictlyAvg

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    Hmmm, coulda been a post on here this next:

    Ken ye na Oor Lass, Bess?
    ken ye na oor lass, Bess?
    An ken ye na oor lass, Bess?
    Between her lily white thies
    She’s biggit a magpie’s nest.

    An ken ye na oor lad, Tam?
    An ken ye na oor lad, Tam?
    He’s on o a three-fitted stool,
    An up to the nest he clamb.
    An what did he there, think ye?
    An what did he there, think ye?
    He brak a’ the eggs o the nest,
    An the white’s ran doun her thie
     
  6. Nottswanker

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    There's so much stuff in the Merry Muses that basically reads like a Rocco Siffredi movie.
     
  7. naughty

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    Workin' up a good pot of mad!
    I missed a friend's Burn's night party on Saturday. I think I am going to just sit back and enjoy the show...
     
  8. StrictlyAvg

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    LOL :biggrin1:
     
  9. StrictlyAvg

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    Wonder if this one would find favour with current fashions?

    Nae Hair On’t

    Yestreen I wed a lady fair,
    An ye wad believe me,
    On her cunt there growes nae hair,
    That’s the thing that grieves me.

    It vexed me sair, it plagued me sair,
    It put me in a passion,
    To think that I haed wad a wife,
    Whase cunt was oot o fashion.
     
  10. D_Kissimmee Coldsore

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    The Reels o Bogie

    You lads an lasses a’ that dwell
    In the toun o Strathbogie,
    Whene’er you meet a pretty lass,
    Be shuir you tip her coggie.

    The lads an lasses toy an kiss,
    The lads ne’er think it is amiss
    To bang the holes whereout they piss,
    An that’s the reels o Bogie.

    There’s Kent, an Keen, an Aiberdeen,
    An the toun o Strathbogie,
    Where every lad mey have his lass,
    Nou that I’ve got my coggie.

    They spreid wide their snaw-white thies
    An rowe aboot their wanton een,
    An when they see your pintle rise
    They’ll dance the reels o Bogie.

    A trooper gaun ower the lea,
    He swore that he wad steer me,
    An lang before the brak o day,
    He giggled, goggled near me.

    He put a stiff thing in my hand,
    I could not bear the bangin o’t
    But lang before he went awa
    I suppled baith the ends o’t.

    His pintle was o largest size,
    Indeed it was a banger,
    He socht a prize between my thies
    Till it became a hanger.

    Haed you but seen the wee bit skin -
    He haed to put his pintle in,
    You’d sworn it was a chitterlin
    Dancin the reels o Bogie.

    He turned aboot to fire again
    An gie me t’other sally,
    An as he fired I ne’er retired
    But received him in my alley.

    His pebbles they went thump, thump,
    Against my little wanton rump,
    But suin I left him but the stump
    To dance the reels o Bogie.

    Said I, young man, mair you can’t dae,
    I think I’ve granted your desire,
    By bobbin on my wanton clue,
    You see your pintle’s a’ on fire.

    When on my back I work like steel
    An bar the door wi my left heel,
    The mair you fuck the less I feel,
    An that’s the reels o Bogie.
     
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