Kenny Haggis Loving Grant

.muffy. · #1 (**permalink**) Jul 06, 05

I know we say this alot but we should really get together sooner rather than later and make haggis together

soon friend!

ffa · #2 (**permalink**) Jul 06, 05

/\ ewwww... that stuff is gross! :-)

-f.

mapleleaf4ever · #3 (**permalink**) Jul 06, 05

I love it! If it's made right, it's damn tasty. If it's made wrong, you're going to need more Scotch than normal to wash it down.

cubed · #4 (**permalink**) Jul 06, 05

Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face,

Great chieftain o’ the puddin-race!

Aboon them a’ ye tak your place,

Painch, tripe or thairm:

Weel are ye wordy of a grace

As lang’s my arm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,

Your hurdies like a distant hill,

Your pin was help to mend a mill

In time o’ need,

While thro’ your pores the dews distil

Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour dight,

An’ cut ye up wi’ ready slight,

Trenching your gushing entrails bright,

Like onie ditch;

And the, O what a glorious sight,

Warm-reekin, rich!

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an’ strive:

Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,

Till a’ their weel’d kytes belyve

Are bent like drums;

Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,

"Bethankit!!" hums.

Is there that owre his French ragout,

Or olio that wad staw a sow,

Or fricassee wad mak her spew

Wi’ perfect sconner,

Looks down wi’ sneering, scornfu’ view

On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! See him owre his trash,

As feckless as a wither’d rash,

His spindle shank a guid whip-lash

His nieve a nit;

Thro’ bluidy flood or field to dash,

O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,

The trembling earth resounds his tread,

Clap in his walie nieve a blade,

He’ll make it whissle;

An’ legs, an’ arms, an’ heads will sned

Like taps o’ thrissle.

Ye Pow’rs, wha mak mankind your care,

And dish them out their bill o’ fare,

Auld Scotland want nae skining ware,

That jaups in luggies;

But, if ye wish her gratefu’ prayer,

Gie her a Haggis!