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Plurrsh.


Charles Bannerman

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Whilst walkeen down the street today in sanny Invarness

I stambled on a baker's shop whose menu duhd ampress

I wandered in and ordered, then the weetrass said to me

"There's yer bah'ered scones, jawm donahts an' yer cap o' tea."

Now had I crossed the ruhver and gone to the West End Chapper

I could have bough' a con uv Coke and a fine Block Poodeen Sapper

That is, of course if I could stond the teedyass strang of text

"Ya wan'een sol' an' vanagar? Eny'heen else? Two-eigh'y! NEXT!"

A wander over by the Haugh down to the Bellfield Pork

Where local tennas players proctas strokes from dawn 'til dork

These days, their treenurs cost the earth, the soles have rabber sackers

In my day lads wore plamsoles, and the girls - punk, frully knuckers

So there you go, my tale of woe it really is a putty

That we should change what was 'the town' into a flameen sutty

We should dispel that age-old rumour, source of endless anguish

When people say we are "Best speakers of the Unglash longwudge".............Rite enufff

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OMG!

Now we have two intellectuals on the site. Bannerperson and Bucket with two "T's".

There could be 3, I suppose, but Scarlet is so modest and rettiring that I don't think I can coax him to postt sometthing really eruditte in case his compettition destroys his fragile ego with ttheir ttempesttuous jealous ttirades in response.

(Darn!--Buckett has impressed me so much that I have just noticed that I am now even putting in ttwo "T's" in everything.)That poem--awesome, like.

Charles, will you please correct my grammirrr and spellnig. That's probably because I am also T Total as well as ttruly ttiresome. And I don't want to tttinker with words, I wantt tto gett itt rightt, I really do.

Look after my boy,now, will you? He tries hard in really difficult circumstances. After he came to Codswallop Hall (still at the George, yes)the power went to his head a wee bit and he does need some guidance from time to time. From real Intellechuals , that is.

Sincerely,

DADDY PIMPERNEL --STILL GOING STROONG AT 86 YEARS OF AGE.WHAT A GUY!

:sarcastic:

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Whilst walkeen down the street today in sanny Invarness

I stambled on a baker's shop whose menu duhd ampress

I wandered in and ordered, then the weetrass said to me

"There's yer bah'ered scones, jawm donahts an' yer cap o' tea."

Now had I crossed the ruhver and gone to the West End Chapper

I could have bough' a con uv Coke and a fine Block Poodeen Sapper

That is, of course if I could stond the teedyass strang of text

"Ya wan'een sol' an' vanagar? Eny'heen else? Two-eigh'y! NEXT!"

A wander over by the Haugh down to the Bellfield Pork

Where local tennas players proctas strokes from dawn 'til dork

These days, their treenurs cost the earth, the soles have rabber sackers

In my day lads wore plamsoles, and the girls - punk, frully knuckers

So there you go, my tale of woe it really is a putty

That we should change what was 'the town' into a flameen sutty

We should dispel that age-old rumour, source of endless anguish

When people say we are "Best speakers of the Unglash longwudge".............Rite enufff

Backu'tt... cheershmun! Reedeen throo tha powumm makes me hink ah'm lisneen t' Jud in Tha Leejun! Hafta go, though.... ah'm burshteen!!!! :twothumbsup:

I've actually added this edit to return to a more serious and sombre note. The book I referred to further up the thread (which I can inform PMF I wasn't trying to plug since it is all but sold out) was my third Royal Academy book "Right Up Stephen's Brae". The first of a number of exchanges in broad Sneck involves a "bowsher" (message boy) whom, after I had listened to what I had written, I could only call Hamish Munro.

That was because I realised that the inspiration for that particular passage had been the many conversations I had had with Hamish... glass of Black Bottle in hand (but not "blazeen" :smile: )... in the Social Club post match.

I am actually so pleased that Hamish managed to read that book, including the passage dedicated to him, just before he died back in May.

Edited by Charles Bannerman
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Heard in Marks and Spencer today -

"They've got twoo plurrsh un an a kupla plurrsh bock."

The gentleman was wearing a Celtic hat so I don't know if he was referring to the Hearts team news or not, but this was pure classic Sneck!

Which reminds me of what I once heard as the recorded message in the lift in Raigmore Hospital.

"Doarsh opneen.... doarsh klozeen!"

:laugh::laugh::laugh:

would someone kindly translate that for one? i'm afraid i haven't a heavenly clue what any of it means!!!! :tongueincheek:

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"They've got twoo plurrsh un an a kupla plurrsh bock."

"Doarsh opneen.... doarsh klozeen!"

would someone kindly translate that for one? i'm afraid i haven't a heavenly clue what any of it means!!!!

I'm not entirely convinced you're not on a wind up here, but just in case you are having genuine difficulty...

The first statement is by a football fan who is apprehensive about the fact that his team's opponents have a pair of new recruits to their ranks as well as a similar number now available once more for selection... presumably following injury or suspension.

The second statement quotes the (apparently locally) recorded message in the lift in Raigmore Hospital which advises occupants of imminent changes in the availability of access and exit.

Hopefully this explanation, when compared with the originals, also shows how concise a "longwudge" Sneck can be.

Edited by Charles Bannerman
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  • 3 weeks later...

Ha ha, excellent stuff Charles. I love to hear the real Inverness accent, which is probably on the wane now that everybody is influenced by the media and social mobility is far greater. Great memories when I hear it. Why anybody can think otherwise is one of life's great mysteries, but there has always been a dour wee free strain to some of our finest contributors! My favourite chant has always been the criminally neglected "Right enuff, right enuff, right enuff; right enuff, right enuff, right enu-u-ff: right enuff, right enuff, right enuff; right enuff.RIGHT ENUFF!" Pure dead brilliant, and one no other club can possibly claim, let alone understand! Smasheen! (Go on, look up the derivation)

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too much mun, I can sense PMF cringing as he reads this.

any idea who wrote the poem?

See scarlets still drivelling on then.

Not cringing at all. In the context of a poem it is just a bit of fun, mun. The OP was cringeworthy but some people think they can post anything and have everyone else understand it.

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  • 2 weeks later...

I do bemoan the slow demise of broad Invernessian. I well remember having to translate much of my Late father's thick Merkinch accent for Mrs Kingmills, who has the misfortune not to hail from the Highlands, when she first encountered my dad a quarter of a century ago.

I am pleased that my children, who have never spent more than three consecutive nights in 'sneck in their lives, have been known to respond to queries about their general disposition with the response "yoor seeein it".

Was convinced when I was small that the then ubiquitous cooking lard called Cookeen was thus named as it was, indeed, used for that purpose.

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I am pleased that my children, who have never spent more than three consecutive nights in 'sneck in their lives, have been known to respond to queries about their general disposition with the response "yoor seeein it".

Well you must now build on that and get them on to the next stage when they reply "Achyerseeenitmunhowsyersel!?"

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