joeac.net-symfony/scripts/blog-migrated/euhwc_toast_to_the_lasses_2024.yaml

title: EUHWC Toast to the Lassies 2024
hidden: true
description: >-
    At the <a href="https://www.euhwc.co.uk">EUHWC</a> 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!
pubDate: 2024-01-29

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