Scottish Word: Whuffle.
Ye did very weel no buryin mha wee dug when ye heard it scartin n screevin oan the lid o its kist. But I’m no peyin. Will I whuffle. It’s no my fault ye howkit a … Continue reading Whuffle.
Ye did very weel no buryin mha wee dug when ye heard it scartin n screevin oan the lid o its kist. But I’m no peyin. Will I whuffle. It’s no my fault ye howkit a … Continue reading Whuffle.
Dinni worry chiel, wee yins like yersel will hae speelin hecks made o stane when the last o us wid is gone ahn the plastic’s done. Nae speelin oan me. The last o the auld trees. … Continue reading Speel.
Is it no magic this neibourhood, no leaves tae rake or blaw, nae grass tae mow. Nae beasties in the hoose, nae burds crappin oan the car, nae neibours revin up their hedge trimmers, total peace … Continue reading Neibourhood.
Turn aroond, backie up, thur’r crocodile murtherers aheid! Translate: murther, morthour: murder. Turn around, back up, there are crocodile murderers ahead. mʌrðər The Scottish Word: murther with its definition and its meaning illustrated and captioned with … Continue reading Murther.
Yiv done it again wi yer stookie! That’s why naebuddy’ll sign it. Yer wife’s gonna be much mair radge than I wiz yon last time. I widni be surprised if she braks yir ither airm when … Continue reading Stookie.
Ma rings oan fire ahn mha broo’s pappled wi perspiration, ahm reirdin ahn riftin ahn plaisterin the pan wi keech in ways unkent tae man. Ahn still they’re roarin through the door – “mind the cludgie … Continue reading Rift.
It’s grand tae see a chook pouked wi care an consideration by a person instead o hunners by factory machines. I ken yer bunnets for its giblets but I wanted tae show ma appreciation wi a … Continue reading Pouk.
Excerpt from the Robert Burns’ poem: A Winters Night. …Oh ye! who, sunk in beds of down, Feel not a want but what yourselves create, Think, for a moment, on his wretched fate, Whom friends and … Continue reading Pouthery.
Wid it no be better tae gie aw them yurlins boats insteid o the usual brolly? It’d no be cheap but it’d still be a savin on clearin oot aw o their remains frae the branders … Continue reading Yurlin.
I’m ‘feuach’ frae fit tae hunker-bane, deef – gless-ee’d an stumpy. But wi my cairtie vertie n virr, nithin daunted – hardy we maun-dae. Nae ben, heich or brae will stap or stint us – hooanivir … Continue reading Hunker-bane.