Sunday, January 25, 2009

Happy Birthday Mr Burns

All the best from the Gurn.

7 comments:

dr-grigor said...

a poem by rabbie written for the gurn from nairn
How wisdom and Folly meet, mix, and unite,
How Virtue and Vice blend their black and their white,
How Genius, th' illustrious father of fiction,
Confounds rule and law, reconciles contradiction,
I sing: If these mortals, the critics, should bustle,
I care not, not I-let the Critics go whistle!

Rubber Buns said...

Ae fond of a guid gurn

neeps said...

where ever you may be
let your gurn gan free

dr-grigor said...

an ode to ayeright

ye chieften o the tv-less race
with muckle plans to change the face
o bankies, beach and pathy's space.
y'er fondness for a little gurn
aboot the ganging's on in nairn
will warm the hearts for those who yearn. news from there beloved Nairn (i know a pretty crappy ending)

iRight said...

Doc,

I am of course honored by your ode to me
But never was a great one for poetry
I haven't managed to get past the first line
Maybe you could help, for I sorely need a rhyme?

"Wee quackin beastie by the name o’ duck"

dr-grigor said...

Wee quackin beastie by the name o’ duck,
is full o sadness coz iright is stuck,
to finish his ode to his pal called doc,
who now hides his breadcrumbs in a dirty old sock,
to keep abody happy and seagulls at bay,
and then the wee baby ducks live one mere day

iRight said...

Doc,
The good folk of Nairn should dig deep in their pockets and commission a statue of you to commemorate you fine writing skills - oh, I see you already have a monument.
How about publishing a book of your work then? Or a plaque on the river at the point where you try and feed your wee pals the ducks?
"Here we were fed by the doc
everyday at one o'clock"
I'm sure you could do better yourself?