01 January, 2010

Shagging sheep and learning about it later . . . oh the embarrassment of it all

25 June 2005

R. Linda:

Let me explain the sheep picture for you this way. In Scotland, there are more men to the ratio of women, so to pass the time when you can't get a date, you go shag a sheep. Yes, this is a practice that is hard to swallow (excuse the pun), but hey sheep are greasy, therefore, easy.

Some Irishmen who had been in Scotland on holiday, were taken out for a dram of Scots whiskey and when three sheets to the portside, their hosting Scotsmen took them to the pasture for a good time. The pastures in Scotland are overrun with sheep, and if you are drunk they all look like short blondes in fishnet stockings. Need I say more?

Shameful, it be, but Sean didn't know it wasn't a petite blonde, no indeed. Pictures of blackmail were taken, yes those Scots are devious and so there you have it. Me poor idiot cousin on holiday in Scotland, out with his new friends, given strong Scottish single malt whiskey, told he'd have a good time, and to note that Scottish women like to be chased (yes indeed), and to get his running shoes on, because he'd be having his choice of pretty blondes out in a field no less, under the stars.

Well, me sainted cousin be gullible as you know and stupid, so he believed his Scot hosts. Off he went to the carousing songfest held within an automobile and into the countryside in the dead of night. Most of us if sober, would feel a little uneasy about that, but seeing he wasn't riding in the boot of the vehicle, he trusted those brazenfaced Scotsmen.

Once at the field, they all got out laughing and having a grand old time, and Sean asked where the lassies were at, and without further adieu his new friends grabbed him by each arm and out into the dark pasture they strolled singing, "Barbara, where are ye? Babbbsss." Well, sure enough an answering "Baaaaabbbbbsssss" alerted them to the alluring direction of Barbara, and so they soon came upon her there in the darkness looking quite the belle in her black fishnets tights, long black gloves, bushy blonde hair (undone) and well, she was a petite one she was even if she was down on all fours. But low and behold there were a lot of Barbaras it seemed, and when me cousin rubbed his eyes and blinked to see if his vision was playing tricks on him, the Scots said Barbara had all her many sisters there for them as well, and it was go get her tiger, with the last direction to me dumb cousin, "Babs likes it in the back door!"

Babs gave Sean a run around the field she did, more spectacular he thought because he was running on his own two legs, yet she seemed fast down on all four. But he, laughing and being egged on, caught up to her and it was then that SNAP of the camera flash went off, and there caught forever on a piece of condemning film was me cousin laughing like a hyena pulling "Babs" to his eager loins.

I was terribly embarrassed for him. As once he woke from the drunken stupor to find himself flat out in a sheep pasture, with the offended Bab's standing over him, he realised what had befallen his stupid arse.

Will he live it down? Not on me watch he won't. I rub it in every time I see him.

So there is the sad story of me cousin's holiday in Scotland.


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