Any Of Us On Here Been Caught Out By...
News5 mins ago
Night Sleeper
There was a long queue at the ticket office for the overnight sleeper from Inverness to London, and by the time it reached the end there was only one compartment left, with a young girl and a young man the last two people in the queue.
They both needed to be in London the next morning so they agreed to share the compartment.
They agreed that the girl would take the lower bunk and the man the top bunk.
About an hour into their journey the man said the young girl 'I am so cold, could you get me an extra blanket'.
The girl replied 'Shall we pretend we are married for the night'
'I'm game if you are' said the fellow.
'Well get your own bloody blanket' she said.
They both needed to be in London the next morning so they agreed to share the compartment.
They agreed that the girl would take the lower bunk and the man the top bunk.
About an hour into their journey the man said the young girl 'I am so cold, could you get me an extra blanket'.
The girl replied 'Shall we pretend we are married for the night'
'I'm game if you are' said the fellow.
'Well get your own bloody blanket' she said.
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This is the night train crossing the Border,
Bringing the old man and the young gal to order,
Condoms for the rich, cling-fim for the poor,
The shop at the corner, the girl in the bunk next door.
Pulling up Beattock, a steady climb:
The gradient's against her, but Virgin are on time.
Past cotton-grass and AB's Builder
Shovelling who knows what over her shoulder,
Snorting noisily as she passes
Silent miles of wind-bent farts.
Birds turn their heads as the young girl approaches,
Stare from her bush - this is getting lewd.
AB Moderators cannot turn her course;
They slumber on with paws across.
In the farm they pass no one wakes,
But a jug in Gramps bedroom gently shakes.
Dawn freshens, Is that her name but her climb is done.
Down towards Glasgow she descends,
Towards the orgasm fall yelping down a retro of refrains
Towards the fields of Hoo Coo Dougies, his truck
Set on the dark plain likea gigantic chessman.
All Scotland waits for her.
In dark glens, beside red-helen lochs
TTT longs for news.
Threads of thanks, letters from banks,
Threads of joy from Gness and sunny Dave,
Receipted criticisms and invitations
To inspect newcomer stock or to visit their rowan relations,
And chico solutions for difficult situations,
And smowball's lovers' declarations,
And gossip, gossip from all the AB nations,
News circumstantial, news business and financial,
Threads with netti snaps to enlarge in,
Threads with LJ faces scrawled on the margin,
Threads from uncles, cousins, and aunts,
Letters to Minty from the South of France,
Letters of condolence to Highlands and Lowlands
Written on paper of every hue,
The pink, the violet, the white and the blue,
The AB scatty, the shatty, the boring, the adoring,
The cold and Ed official and the Mod's outpouring,
Clever, stupid, short and long,
The typed and the printed and the American spelt all wrong.
Thousands are still asleep,
Dreaming of terrifying Gully monsters
Or of friendly tea beside the toilets in Klazo's or Crawford's:
Asleep in working Glasgow, asleep in well-set Lothian,
Asleep in granite Aberdeen,
ABers continue their dreams,
But shall wake soon and hope for GMEB letters,
And none will hear the Ed's knock
Without a quickening of the heart,
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?
When he or she hears the words,'You're banned'.
Bringing the old man and the young gal to order,
Condoms for the rich, cling-fim for the poor,
The shop at the corner, the girl in the bunk next door.
Pulling up Beattock, a steady climb:
The gradient's against her, but Virgin are on time.
Past cotton-grass and AB's Builder
Shovelling who knows what over her shoulder,
Snorting noisily as she passes
Silent miles of wind-bent farts.
Birds turn their heads as the young girl approaches,
Stare from her bush - this is getting lewd.
AB Moderators cannot turn her course;
They slumber on with paws across.
In the farm they pass no one wakes,
But a jug in Gramps bedroom gently shakes.
Dawn freshens, Is that her name but her climb is done.
Down towards Glasgow she descends,
Towards the orgasm fall yelping down a retro of refrains
Towards the fields of Hoo Coo Dougies, his truck
Set on the dark plain likea gigantic chessman.
All Scotland waits for her.
In dark glens, beside red-helen lochs
TTT longs for news.
Threads of thanks, letters from banks,
Threads of joy from Gness and sunny Dave,
Receipted criticisms and invitations
To inspect newcomer stock or to visit their rowan relations,
And chico solutions for difficult situations,
And smowball's lovers' declarations,
And gossip, gossip from all the AB nations,
News circumstantial, news business and financial,
Threads with netti snaps to enlarge in,
Threads with LJ faces scrawled on the margin,
Threads from uncles, cousins, and aunts,
Letters to Minty from the South of France,
Letters of condolence to Highlands and Lowlands
Written on paper of every hue,
The pink, the violet, the white and the blue,
The AB scatty, the shatty, the boring, the adoring,
The cold and Ed official and the Mod's outpouring,
Clever, stupid, short and long,
The typed and the printed and the American spelt all wrong.
Thousands are still asleep,
Dreaming of terrifying Gully monsters
Or of friendly tea beside the toilets in Klazo's or Crawford's:
Asleep in working Glasgow, asleep in well-set Lothian,
Asleep in granite Aberdeen,
ABers continue their dreams,
But shall wake soon and hope for GMEB letters,
And none will hear the Ed's knock
Without a quickening of the heart,
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?
When he or she hears the words,'You're banned'.
1 to 5 of 5
