Mindin’ o’ JayBo – Here’s a Guid Yin!

“That’s a guid yin, eh?”

James minds guid jokes and laughs:

“I feel a joke coming on.”   

“Aye, here’s another guid yin.”  “OK, hoosaboo’ this yin?”

“Are ye haudin’ yer ain?”

“Ah can see yer no’ feelin’ yersel’ the day.” – “Aye, Ah’ve no’ been feelin’ mahsel’ lately.”

“You tryin’ tae make it hard fur me?”

“D’ye gie her a poke?”  – “Oh, aye … o’ sweeties!” 

“Ocht, will ye no’ haud yer wheesht, mun?!”

“OK, youzyins, mah mad mates! Here’s yin furree.”

“OK, here’s a guid yin tae stop yer girnin’ an’ greetin’.”

OK, nuff o’ tha’, ahll jist say here bah wye o’ interducshun, it’s nae surprise tae me at a’, that this is one of the longer sections in mindin’ o’ James – we passed maist o’ wur time thegither jist huvin’ a lauch at auld situations, 0ft-tellt jokes, daf’ freenz, spikkin’ Sco’ish, or sharing comedians’ jokes we liked, sic as Billy Connolly or Stanley Baxter. I recall how we’d start laughing at something afore either o’ us said onnythin’, such was the knowledge of past memories and jokes. Tom has reported the same kinno thing. (See below in “On Moreton Island”).  Often we jist had tae say yin word to burst oot lauchin’ … like “hingin’ “, “woom!” (see below), “seeza”, “urye fu’ye’?” “mince” or “screwdriver?” (Again see below).

Ah’ll hawn’ ye ower tae James the noo tae tell a guid few jokes … guid yins, tae!

James:  “Jokes were summing ah often shared wi’ mah pals, whether they wanted tae hear them again or no’, ah jist hud tae reiterate ’em  … sometimes ah’d even make ’em up mahsel’!  Ah like tae think they seemed to appreciate them … well, some of them, ah mean some o’ mah mates liked them … ocht maybe they were jist being polite, the fungers! Onnywye, here’s yin o’ mah favourite jokes, oft-tellt. Cannae mind when ah first heard it, but prolly up the back o’ Sandy Bell’s in anither lang-syne drinking lifetime.

An RAF veteran is giving a talk to a class of school children, and was trying to explain what a typical mission would be like.

“So there I was, escorting the bombers to their target, when out of the blue we were attacked by a bunch of Fokkers. There were about 20 of these Fokkers. One took out my buddy, but I managed to shoot the Fokker down. Then one was on my tail and I couldn’t shake the Fokker, but my pal took care of him. Then I took out two more of the Fokkers …”                      

The teacher interrupts: “Children I should explain, the Fokker was a type of fighter airplane used by the German Air Force to stop the RAF bombers and their escorts.”

The RAF veteran looked bemused, and said, “Yes possibly, but these fuckers were Messerschmitts!”

There was another one from way back, could be a bit unacceptable, I suppose but the mair o’ tha’ the be’er in my humble. I told it often, usually to much laughter, which is the main thing:

Twa freens are gaun at it, yin saying,

“I’m telling you, man! It’s W-o-o-m-B … W-o-o-m-B!”

The other says,
“Nah, it’s “W-o-o-M!”                                                                                            

“It’s W-o-o-m-B!”      

“It’s W-o-o-M!”                                  

“It’s W-o-o-m-B!”

They banged oan for a bit, until finally the yin spelling it “W-oh-oh-m” said,

“Listen, I doubt if you’ve ever seen a camel, far less heard one fart.”

“I always loved delivering that line. It was great recounting those auld jokes wi’ mah auld mates, just huvin’ a guid laugh … whit mates ur fur, eh?”

Ocht! One last one, this drove mah freenz daft … aye, same as me! I would say, “OK, joke! Ur ye ready?”  Then I’d say, “What’s the difference between a duck?” After a moment’s silence, someone would say, “And, and … a duck and … ?”  I’d simply repeat more strongly, emphasising each word,  “What’s the difference between a duck?”  And go on like that getting louder until everyone just gave up and had a laugh at nothing … or maybe it was at me! Aye, maybe I didn’t realise how much that pissed some friends off, my daft jokes, but ah really appreciated mah palz fur that.

“OK, ah feel anither joke comin’ oan.”

Want to hear a “Knock, knock” joke?  No? … Well, fuck ye! Yer gettin’ it onnywye! 

Upon receiving an affirmative reply, I would say, “OK, you start.” They’d say, “Knock, knock” and I’d say with delight, “Who’s there?”

“Yeh, tha’ yin pissed people aff, tae! But weel worth it tae hae a guid lauch.”

                                            

                                        “Yeh, a guid yin! Ah dinnae mean the duck yin tho’!”

“OK, yin o’ my favourites, saving’ it tae gey near last, goes something like this:

An old chap went to see his doctor because he was constipated, and the doctor prescribed some large capsules.  The old fella said,“I’ll never be able to swallow those.” 

The doctor told him, “You don’t swallow them, you place them in your back passage.”

So the old chap went away, and the next week he was back at the doc’s complaining they didn’t work.

The doc says, “You did put them in your back passage, didn’t you?”

The old guy says, “We don’t have a back passage so I put them in the front hall, but for all the good they did I might as well have stuck them up my arse.”

Yeh, I’ve heard it usin’ an ointment for rubbing round the back passage.”  The great punchline aye the same.

Then there was, “How do you become a great poet? – Ye fung stand in front o’ the fire till yer Rabbie Burns.”  

Possibly one of my favourites, oft told, tinged with the usual edginess:

“A man goes into a bar, sees someone doing martial art moves, all chopping and twisting. He asks the barman, “Is that Kung Fu?”  The barman says, “Nah, he’s only had a couple of pints.”

“Ocht, another yin!  Cannae stop … no’ when I’m winning!

Bus breaks down, driver gets out, takes his bag of tools to have a look at the engine. The ticket collector joins him and eventually says, “Do you need a screwdriver?”  He replies, “Nah, we’re late enough a’ready.”    

                                       

                             

Then any time we saw a kilt, one of us would say, “There’s nothing worn under there, ye ken.” 

And the other would say, “Aye, ‘s a’ in perfect workin’ order.”

Here’s a guid yin!  On a rainy day, say to someone, “Tickle my arse with a feather!”  When they say, “Eh? Whit?”

You say, “Particularly nasty weather.”   Ok, Ok, maybe better when actually involving someone and seeing look

on their face.

Ok, here’s an appropriate yin tae end oan … nearly end! :  They said it was the coughin’ that kerrit him off, but it wiznae, it

was the coffin they kerrit him off in.

••••••••••

Similar to this is an Aberdonian joke:

An Aberdonian is in a shoe shop and the assistant hands him a pair of shoes. Puzzled, the customer asks: “Fit fit fits on fit fit?”

To which the assistant says, “‘At een on ‘at een, an’ ‘at een on ‘at een! ”

Then there’s this guid yin:

Scotsman goes to dentist.

Dentist tells him to lie back on the couch, and then asks him, “Comfy?”

Scotsman says,  Auchterarder.

Yeh, aye wi’ hoots of daft lauchter,  usually with a different toon anytime we heard

the word “comfy”. 

James and I lo’ed that kinno daft stuff, like this real happening:

A woman talking to her friend, overheard by my mother on a bus in Edinburgh, later much repeated by both

her and by James and me.   “See mah man, see mince, see tatties, mah man doesnae like mince an’ tatties.”

Ahh cun hear James the noo tellin’ this off-colour yin wi’ muckle glee. We baith lo’ed jokin’ an’

talkin’ durrty (some wad say hav’rin’):

OK, ‘erse a door-tae-door survey bein’ done aboot whit kinno’ “pads” women use fur protection in ‘ere monthly time o’ need:

“Hello, madam, what kind of pads do you use?”

“Ah use brillo pads! Hah, hah!”

“Oh aye, a richt bricht cun’!”

Then there was this great yin whaur Dougie went intae the pub to meet Alec:

Alec:  How’re you doin’, Dougie?

Dougie:  Oht, no’ so guid, mah dug’s just died.

Alec:   Ocht, does tha’ mean we’ll hae to ca’ ye Douglas frae noo on?

An’ this yin! While we’re in ra groove!

Alec and Dougie again in the pub.

Alec:  Aye, Dougie, hoorye daen?

Dougie:  Nae sae guid, hud tae huv mah dug pit doon.

Alec:  Oh, naw! Was he mad?

Dougie: Aye, he wuznae very pleased.

OK, thaz fung it, hud ’nuff o’ the lot o’ ye. Ahm awa’ tae mah fung pit.

Mah Faither’s Awfy Scottish Lingo

James and I would often recall my father’s characteristic Scots “spikkin” cos o’ him being from the south of Edinburgh, an

area rich in Scots lingo and much studied by linguists. He would say things that sounded like a foreign language,

which I suppose broad Scots really is.  I’ll always remember a good Kiwi friend saying he just agreed with everything my

dad said because he couldn’t understand much of it.  Try saying some of these quickly, you’ll get an idea of

what James and I enjoyed recalling so much.

“Gie i’ a guid skelp!  Gie i’ a dicht!  Iz a bit ticht unner mah ochsters; Ye’ll get weel drookit if you gang oot in tha’;

Aye, iz a lang wye, mair up than doon, ahm fair pechin’; Turn i’ aff, ah cannae thole tha’ noise;  When he tellt me whaur he’d

been, ah was fair dumfoonert; Gie i’ a dunt on the heid!;  So we were dippin’ the sheep an’ daen awa’, an’ a’ o’ a sudden Jimmy

blurts oot, ‘Time furra drink!’ He was an awfy man for the drink”; “Gie it a guid scart!”;  “Haud oan mun!”; “Ocht! Haud yer wheesht!”

Yeh, prolly no’ a bad idea,eh?

Here’s yin ah tellt James efter ah saw it ootside a bar on Moreton Island one time with Tom.  He

really liked it:

What does a guid bar and a guid wumman hae in common?  Liquor in the front; poker in the back.

Jock’s Jokes July, 71

James and I loved the auld heid gravedigger’s daft jokes. He tellt them in richt broad Scots, usually through teeth

clenched on his pipe as he gied us a hurl in his van to or from a country graveyard. Here’s a few examples.

“Aye, ah woke at 5.00 this morning. The wife turned and said whit are ye daen?’ Ah said, “Ahm rubbin’ ye doon.”

Of a colt in a field:  “He was walloping it aboot like a bairn wavin’ his erm wi’ an apple in his hawn.”

Whit did the left leg say to the right leg?  Aye, there must be a perty upstairs, a roll o’ meat just went up.

Passing through Crieff on a hot day, we saw some young girls walking in hot pants, and Jock says,   

“Aye, it’s when ye see something, ye dinnae hae a gun.”

In Jock’s van we passed a pretty park in Crieff, full of bushes, trees, clumps of rhododendrons.

Jock said, “Aye, plenty o’ hidey places for smoochin’ doon there. It pits me in mind o’ the boy and his girl, she

wouldnae let him hae a go unless she thocht it was the will o’ God.  So he got his friend to hide up a tree,

and when he started to get stuck in, she said, “Oh no! I must hear that it’s a’richt fae the Lord.” 

So he says, “Oh Lord above, oh Lord above, can ah hae a go at my lady love?” His friend in the tree says, “Aye!”

So he’s awa’ an’ awa’ and gettin’ oan … ”  James joined in with “cawin’ his erse” …
Jock continued with a smile, “Aye, an’ after a wee bit a voice comes from up in the tree:

“Oh pal below, oh pal below, when’ll you stop and let me hae a go?”

•   Jock drove us to graveyards at villages, such as Tibbermore, Findo Gask and Forgandenny.

Often we’d pass the crematorium on the outskirts of Perth, and he’d aye say, “Aye boyz, thar’s ra competition!”

Parliamo Glasgow

 James and I shared a liking of many comedians, especially the great Stanley Baxter.  Here’s a description of a sketch by him from his wonderful “Parliamo Glasgow”, a book about how to speak Glaswegian. This is about a barrow seller.

Stanley Baxter is walking with a friend who is tired. They meet Clara with her barrow selling vegetables. Stanley says to his complaining friend, “Wharra hellza me’er?”

She says, “Ahm tired oot, cannae ging nay fur’rer.”

He suggests, “Tak a seat on ra honnle o’ ra barra.”

His friend says, “Iz ower narra, ra honnle o’ ra barra.”

He asks the barrow woman,  “Zarra tamarra on ra barra, Clara?”

She replies, “Naw, iz no a tamarra … iz a marra.”

Stanley’s tired friend, aptly named Mia Farrow, says,  “I think I’ll buy ra marra fur mah farra.”

Stanley says, “Mia Farra borra marra furra farra!” – there are five sets of rolling “Rs” to get the tongue round there.  Then Mia, as she puts the marrow back, accidentally knocks some vegetables out of the barrow, and Stanley says, “Oh, naw! Mia Farra’s couped Clara’s barra wi’ ra marra.”

Billy Connolly

We baith lo’ed him, of course! We’d recount sketches such as “Jobby Wheecher”, “Incontinence Knickers”, “Lions Stalking Wildebeasts” and “The Crucifixion”  in which he likens Christ’s Last Supper to a drunken nicht oot in Glesgae.  An’ then I’d tell James yin mair time aboot how I met BC in Wellington.

Tom’s 70th on Moreton Island in Nov. 2018: I saw James and Tom sitting ootside jist aff the huge living room; they were on the wide deck with a view of the sea. I went out thinking perhaps to join a pleasant conversation, have a bit of a reminisce, maybe share a joke or three. I have no idea what they had been talking about because they were convulsing and heaving in their chairs. I wanted to know what had caused monosyllabic utterances, un-understandable words, the uncontrolled laughing, followed by a grunt and the likes of “Oh, no! Too much!”, then more giggling and guffawing, all  totally off-the-wall stuff, beyond the ken of anyone else. If ye didnae ken them you’d think they were cot cases, unable to speak coherently. I have nae idea what caused their convulsions but I was glad the twa auld doctor mates considered laughter the best medicine and seemed to be haeing a guid time – sharely whit it’s a’ aboot, eh? Efter seeing the funny side of it all, I went back inside, shakin’ mah heid and haeing a wee lauch tae.

Scots names were a great source of fun, such as what people were often called, their first names that is.  So for some unkown reason we’d aye hae a guid cackle at Fergus, Brodie, Erchie, Finlay, Jock and Torquil … if you were a girl, it could be Catriona, Ella (actually my mum’s name!), Moira, Kirsty, Morag, Sheena or Maisie. My dad’s brothers and sisters were Rob, Ernie, Kate, Jackie, Jim, Willie and Alison. I mean how Sco’ish can you get?  On my mum’s side: Jo, John, Charlie, Bill and Eric. So short and simple!

Then there were place names to roll off the tongue with a guid lauch:  Ecclefechan, Ardnamurchan, Auchtermuchty, Gowkthrapple, Freuchie, Ardtullechan and Auchenshuggle … we’d aye hae a guid shoogle a’ tha’ yin.

James aye laughed at my jokes. Aye, the ones I made up myself. Perhaps sometimes it was polite laughter but I like to think he was always appreciative. He liked this one, possibly the last I told him:  Porridge served at high-end restaurants?   Yeh, that’s “oat cuisine”.  And he liked:  “What call Ozzie impasse or deadlock? Yeh, stalemate … mate!”  The cleverer and the dafter the better! Yeh, ah fung made those up! Honest!

James aye said better to hae a guid lauch the noo, coz the morn we could a’ be deid.  I used to agree wholeheartedly and we’d lauch lang and lood, wishing awa’ the dreich day.