
The Coo pat slinger. [Night! And oor hero and Malkie Fu expert is oot and aboot … hunting the phantom coopat slinger. Accompanied by his trusty companion – THE DOCTOR.] The doctor: “Aye weel, it’s a … Continue reading Stammer. →
Scottish Word: Peen.

Diini be feart Flyman for I have Granny Giles’s hat peen tae set ye free. With yin mighty poke I shall burst yer evil bubble. Translation: peen: pin. Do not be frightened Flyman for I have … Continue reading Peen. →
Scottish Word: Loun.

Noo loun, fur I see that ye are a loun. Ah’d prefer if ye had troosers on afore ye sit doon. Kin ye just squat like, but no touch, fur the time being so’s ah can … Continue reading Loun. →

Watch the razor letter boxes doon there, they’ll hae yer fingers aff at the knockles wi-oot care, even’f ye were rackle-haunded like massel. But first ye hae tae drap doon avoiding the shairp stalagmites, lowp o’er … Continue reading Knockle. →
Scottish Word: Croon.

Hey! Hey! Hey huv ye heard the yin aboot the reid neb cat that cut aff its ain croon? Ahn got a plester o blue? Aw because she sterted an set hersel her ain red lines … Continue reading Croon. →
Scottish Word: Growk.

Whit for are ye growkin at me for? I thoucht ye were tae be the same size as the rest o us reid nebs? Whaurs awbuddy else oniewye? Ahn whit are ye daein wi them hats? … Continue reading Growk. →
Scottish Word: Dreid.

Ahm affy sorry wee man ah huv tae use this dreided wee man killer skoosh oan ye. Ahm assured that ‘they’ will nivir use it oan me, nor dis it hae onie effect on massel oniewye … Continue reading Dreid. →

Nae the full shilling, awa in the heid, affen the knot, gytit, no wice, a nine bob note, dementit, deleerit? No a bit o it lassie. Translation: deleerit: delirious, insane, mad. In an incomplete state of … Continue reading Deleerit. →
baking, biscuits, bun, butter, chairs, goggles, hat, jam, monacle, mouse, pyjamas, roses, scones, shortbread, sugar, teacup, treacle Scottish Word: Toorie.

Going by the contermacious invious expression on its dovie pan I think it got it intae it’s skull that it wants yer woolly hat wi the sonsie toorie for itsell. Its nae chance though, dafty that … Continue reading Toorie. →

Pey me weel. Pey me weel. An’ I’ll do ye a deal. Noo Mr Wabster an wee Miss Moffat yer spider silk shin are braw things but I canni pey ye much, an nothing up front … Continue reading Pey me weel. →