diff options
| author | Joe Carstairs <me@joeac.net> | 2026-04-10 15:14:00 +0100 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Joe Carstairs <me@joeac.net> | 2026-04-10 15:14:00 +0100 |
| commit | 5681cf9420ac73d418d2e3a119f56bf158b22753 (patch) | |
| tree | ead01948d4c47d1498515396255d975be3f198be /capsule/content/gemlog/2024-01-29.gmi | |
| parent | db6757652e3e89e7de47af7ae95a025487b5c6b4 (diff) | |
re-organises capsule logs
Diffstat (limited to 'capsule/content/gemlog/2024-01-29.gmi')
| -rw-r--r-- | capsule/content/gemlog/2024-01-29.gmi | 255 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 255 deletions
diff --git a/capsule/content/gemlog/2024-01-29.gmi b/capsule/content/gemlog/2024-01-29.gmi deleted file mode 100644 index ec4ae95..0000000 --- a/capsule/content/gemlog/2024-01-29.gmi +++ /dev/null @@ -1,255 +0,0 @@ -# EUHWC Toast to the Lassies 2024 - -At the EUHWC Burns meet in Ullapool last weekend, I had the last privilege of giving the Toast to the Lassies. Particularly for the benefit of those who weren’t there, here it is in full! - -Published on: 29 Jan 2024 - -Had Burns, instead of his sweet bonnie Jean, -his skills poetical for to mature -had any one of our club’s lassies seen -he would forever have remained obscure. -If he had nothing but this box of worms -Scotia would have been poorer, that I’m sure. -Now none of us can claim to be a Burns, -I’m no poetic master, still, I’ll have a punt, -though let’s be clear, I’ll do it on my terms. -I’ve everywhere avoided being blunt - -politeness matters more than any schema - -but it is hard when Isla’s such a cunt. -It was a challenge to produce a terza rima -I could recite withouten snoring; -you’ve been so stiff I thought youse had oedema. -The bother is this year is you’ll all been boring: -no drugs, no sex, no gossiping or lies, -no rock and roll, and hardly any whoring. -But hey well, rules is rules, I’ve had to try! -At least it can’t be worse than the reply. - -I’ll start with Audrey, the club’s senior member, -for if there’s something that I say which disconcerts her, -it’s fine: the poor old girl, she won’t remember. -She likes to let us think she’s a hard worker -but we’re electing a third social sec… -it’s pretty clear she’s just another shirker. -This lady, half American, half Czech, -for study, moved to Scotland for to do -American history – really, what the heck? -The club is so much louder thanks to you: -impressive vocals for just five foot two. - -That woman, Willow, reggles is bespeckled -with her sickle and her fishing tackle -shackled by the shins while she is heckled; -the way that Willow waddles maks me cackle -like a speckled jackal getting tickles, -worth a shekel in the tabernacle; -I chuckle muckle at her love of pickles -which she wiggles when she has the heart -while work for the Committee’s fickle trickles. -Her modus operandi: you can’t rush art. -Her reimbursements programme’s going great; -any day now, she’ll maybe even start. -She cannot walk without Audrey, her mate: -I wonder when they’re going to consummate. - -Although they make them pretty tough in Peebles, -the thought of actually going up a peak -fills Shona Lewis with the heeble-jeebles. -New car? We miss your beautiful antique! -How long before this one’s also up a creek? - -Once there was a lass called Hannah Collier -whom even hell below regarded nasty, -deeply despised by all that dwells there. -Dating’s proceeding slowly for our lassie; -not far from giving up til she beguiles -a hot Italian in Southsider: classy! -At first, Michaelo seems to be all smiles -till it transpires he’s one of Dante’s demons… -I guess it’s back to posters of Harry Styles. -One day you’ll get a decent boy, keep dreamin; -somewhere there waits a handsome Mr Collier. -Hopefully when she meets him she’ll no be steamin. -Hannah, I’m not sure why you chose to maul your -poor skeleton at Subway (she’s still tetchy) -and then abandon what remains of all your -dignity at Ryvoan with a Frenchie! -I think he wishes that he never met ye. - -And has a quiet Felicia e’er been seen? -The energy she has is frankly wild. -I’ve never seen a hillwalker so keen! -Ssie ischt raschtlos und nie gelangweilt. -She eats raw oats with soggy protein powder: -a camping pot has ne’er been worse defiled. -She uses what her Maker has endowed her -with: her recorder skills are off the charts; -youse think I’m joking, but I wouldn’t doubt her! -This lass of the land of the Rot-Gold-Schwarz -will soon depart, though long we might beseech you -to stay. Of course, you’ll break all of our hearts, -but mine most of all. Any time, Felicia, -Creag Meagaidh calls, I know routes up the rear -dark and under-explored that I can teach you! -I won’t deny I think it’s rather queer -the things you do with chickpeas, but no matter. -You’re keen, you’re quick, you’re cool, that much is clear. -In fact, I think you’d make a damn good faffer: -swoop down on distilleries like the Luftwaffe. - -And now we come to our girl Emily Topness! -You’re keen for social sec. You’d suit the role -because… I’m not quite sure, it’s embdy’s guess. -We met your sister, and she was just as dull. -No, please drone on about Icelandic soil! -Poor Joe here down the front’s bored out his skull. -And since I mentioned Joe – I hate to spoil -it for you – but you’ve got the inferior Joe, -by Jove, no joke, it’s Jock here’s got the style! -Nah, write the boy a sonnet, get in the flow, -Whatever you produce’ll beat by thrice -your Masters thesis. What’d you got to show -for months of hunting for the butterflies? -‘There weren’t any.’ Oh, and have some sense, -cos I’ve heard rumours – I assume they’re lies – -you’ve called yourself the ‘poet in residence.’ -You know you can’t compete, drop the pretence. - -Tereza was our gear sec for last year. -She helped herself to stuff: that’s factual. -Now when she asks to loan a bit club gear -we have to ask her to provide collateral. -She picked up tin whistle pretty sharp! -Which is to say, she’s not a natural. -She’s nowhere happier than under tarp -gazing up at the moon and stars alone -somewhere distant and remote like Glen Tarff. -Now what to say about Lucy Ma-the-soooon.... -she likes… to faff… mm hmmm… well, moving on! - -And now we come to Emilie the French. -She seems to be nice on the trips we see her -but my distrust of frogs will ne’er be quenched. -Claims she’s a ‘pharmacist’? So she’s a dealer. -Need some pills in a pinch? You call, she’s there -at your door in her rally-approved four-wheeler. -One question we have is, why are you here? -Most folk are in uni, you’ve no refutin -you were kicked out after second year! -Now the Engineering grad, Sophia Newton. -Your namesake, Isaac, was a man convicted, -constructed calculus; but no computin, -not even Isaac’s, could’ve e’er predicted -you’d drop the Eng for creative writing! -now that’s what I would call a self-inflicted -inflection point! It must be quite enlightening, -but that doesn’t excuse when you give us an earful. -The blood boils in our veins, the rage heightening, -and you’re an American, that makes me fearful. -What’s your secret? You have us knackered! -What are you on to always be so cheerful? -Now we approach the topic of Merzbacher. -Wait, she’s not here? Abandoned ship? -She says she’s informatics: so she’s a hacker? -She has strong views, she lets her anger rip. -Poor George got an earful, full of future advice, -but why hasn’t she been on another club trip? -We’re cruel to focus on this list of vice; -the fact remains: she’s headstrong and nice. - -On Skye, a lady gave her poles to Sasha, -which was really nice - I mean just the best - -but Sasha really didn’t have to flash her. -Quick history lesson: way back, RBS -led the banking system to self-destruct -and left taxpayers to pick up the mess. -Since then, the name’s so irredeemably fucked -they’ve had to ditch the brand once and for all. -There’s one lassie who I need not instruct -What, these days, the Royal Bank is called -cos NatWest’s nasty history of scandal -didn’t stop Booth from working there at all. -Nothing motivates her more than to trample -upon the working class. They set her free. -She sank the pound quicker than the Belgrano, -because ‘there is no such thing as society,’ -that’s how it is, is it? All right, I see. - -Now, coming all the way from Glenmore Lodge, -it’s Ellie’s turn! We have done what we can, -although I’m scared what she’ll put in my squash. -She wasn’t into Benji, but listen man, -you’re lucky that you dodged her drunken benders. -You’ll wake up in a tent in Kyrgystan, -as for how you got there, no-one remembers, -and if you’d known you’d be sleeping next to Ellie, -you would’ve brought some fucking ear defenders. -She’ll wrap you in bubblewrap, from your ears to your belly, -cotton clothes for none, and no complaining, -applying safety to the max, spare socks in your wellies. -She’s always at her Mountain Leader training, -practicing her night nav in the locale, -pursuing QMDs - unless it’s raining. -But some water should not scare our gal! -She’s had much experience with the wet as of late: -after all, she got on well with our navy pal. -What was the age of that particular first mate? -Older than your ex - always part of the plan? -Ah, of course! He was a spry twenty-eight! -Youth’s for the losers, let’s get you a real man, -mature and rugged, but kind and astute? -Just make sure he’s not as old as your gran. -One request we all have is you ditch the uke: -never have strings been pluckèd quite so shitely; -we would all much rather be hit by a nuke. -And please shut up about your nice society. -We are all glad you had a fun summer, -but bringing it up throws us right back to sobriety. -To lose you of course would be a bummer: -that is, for your carefully groomed newcomers. - -Now time for the main woman, El Presidente! -To here, it’s been like getting stones to bleed, -but in Isla Burslem’s case we’ve material aplenty! -As Holy Scripture says, ‘let those who lead -well be worthy of double honour,’ so -your bit is double length – it’s quite the screed! -I’ll start off with her brilliant boyfriend – oh! -Not boyfriend! Friend? To me this rather smacks -of low commitment, but what do I know? -So far, he’s disappointing, but on track. -What’s he up to Isla: seven minutes? neat! -Despite that, he is never holding back -your blossoming romance with Dr Peat. -Don’t deny it, that launch was pretty hard! -It’s fifth base next: that’s photos of his feet. -It’s fair to say her reputation’s marred. -We all regret that we did once anoint -her President: her premiership’s ill-starred. -Hey - you’re meant to be in charge of this joint! -You’re seldom seen cos of the mountaineering -meets that you’re always on. You’d made your point -before you chose to go off disappearing -to New Zealand… we get the message! Plus -we’ve had enough of all your domineering: -maybe it’s time we put you on a bus! -Nah, I’m just joking. All I’ve said’s refutable. -But the boys, we mean this next bit, all of us, -so stop me Isla if this isn’t suitable -but honestly we think your mum is beautiful. - -Alas, I have to bring an end to this rhyme. -I know it wasn’t much, in our defence, -the fact you used ChatGPT’s a crime. -I hope I’ve not caused over much offence -don’t worry, that is it, I’ve said my bit, -so I’ll turn from the ladies to the gents. -Yeah, don’t look away now, we wrote this shit! -I see you looking at your laces, Chris! -Wit without real goodwill is not legit, -so boys, don’t send sincerity to piss! -Why did God say he’d take our hearts of stone -and give us hearts of flesh? For this, for this! -Here is flesh of our flesh, bone of our bone; -love, and love nothing more but God alone. - |
