WIthout a laddie for a husband,
the nights are long and cold.
We know this for a fact because
By Burns we have been told.
For all that and all that,
He says the man's the gold.
Wo if a lassie wants a laddie,
She need not search the whole world o'er,
But hust turn her e'e to Scotland, and
Find what she's looking for.
For the bonnie flow'r of Scotland
Is one that never wilts.
And it makes a lassie say with pride --
"Down with trousers! Up with kilts!"
Lassies -- Please raise your glasses now and
Where else can one find such superior men who excel
At talking and eating and napping so well?
They can sing, they can dance, they can speak Burns's quotation;
What they're really best at is at procrastination.
But let us not sell our laddies up short.
For they do noble deeds of many a sort.
When they ring Christmas bells outside the mall,
Its then that we're pround and they stand tall...
In spite of their knees so red and cold,
They just smile and present a countenance bold.
Is there any doubt that their genes come from wild men of yore?
Like Rob Roy and Mel Gibson, they're brave to the core.
What's the source of this strength - Is it vitamins? Champagne?
Nay - it must be pure Scotch that runs through their veins.
But those more mild-mannered need not complain,
For the love of the lassies you'll always sustain.
As long as you shovel the snow and you chop the wood,
You're handy, you're dandy (bless your hearts), you're just plain good.
So with one last tribute let me conclude:
That is this age of "cold computer mood,"
Our laddies, like pipers in the mist,
Bring music to our hearts - Thank God they exist
TO THE LADDIES!
But if you wish to sing our praises,
Deed work harder than pretty phrases
Rabid attention to Packer scores
Delays action on household chores
And it's not unmanly with children to speak,
To play baseball, dolls, or hide-and-seek
There is more at home to give you joy
Than any tavern or stadium can employ
So let these words of praise resound
A man's a man, and fine to have around