Tag: humor, loch, sci-fi, steve-alten

An older, inebriated Scot who looked like he’d been sitting on his barstool all day looked me up and down, then smelled the air. “Heh, neebr, goat a deid an’mal in yer bac’pac, or iz it ye tha’ bloody stinks?”My brain took a moment to translate. “Actually, yes, there is a dead animal in my backpack, but I probably stink, too.

Sheriff, are you suggestin’ the victom was kidnapped?””I’m only statin’ that, at this time, we have no body, only nonvital body parts…

Three lights should be fine.” – Zachary”Aye, well if it wis me, I’d want a bloody lighthoose beacon comin’ oot o’ my arse.” – True MacDonald