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02 September 2005 at 18:52

racial slur

An accusation has been made, and cannot be allowed to go unchallenged.

Hotboy has suggested that I am not Scottish! It's a transparent attempt to annoy me into revoking my share of his royalties in the southern hemisphere. Or perhaps it's a smokescreen to divert attention from his own murderous Irish Viking blood.

Here's proof that I'm Scots, at least from the waist down. And the shadow on the grass proves that there was nothing worn under the kilt.

Match that, Hotboy. Show us your Viking helmet!

 Lee Ann said...

Ah so it's true! I always wondered if the story of what is worn (or lack thereof) under a kilt is fact or fiction. Thanks for clearing that up. *blushing* =)  

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 Hotboy said...

There's nothing the matter with a bit of cross dressing, Adolf. And being a German is cool (apart from the Second World War)(No, we won't talk about that!) especially when it comes to giving and taking orders. I'd show you my viking helmet, but it dropped off when I was chased across a park by some amorous mad cows. How's the new jobbie by the way? Do you get to shoot anyone? Hope this helps! Hotboy  

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 Spinning Girl said...

I like a skirt on a man.  

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 onan the bavarian said...

Spinning Girl. Thanks for that. One suggestion - if you're ever in Scotland, don't refer to the kilt as a skirt, unless you want to start a bloodbath.

Following in my footsteps, our 16-year-old punk has announced he wants a kilt for his birthday. And a sporran (the jockstrap/handbag thing).

What's with young people? When I was young I had to be forced to wear a kilt.

I think he got the idea when we visited Berlin last year, and some punks/goths there wore kilts to go out at night. I've never felt quite so at home in Germany before.  

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 Hotboy said...

Did you visit your old bunker in Berlin, Adolf! Then there was a shot followed by eons and eons in all the hot, cold and occasional hells; then being a bad smell for eons in the worst toilet in the galaxy; then all the time as a fruitfly; then onwards and upwards. Now, look at you! On the Unheard of Island. (I'll be there someday!) There's hope for everyone!Hotboy  

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 onan the bavarian said...

Lee ann, if it turns out you're descended from the Robertson's jam dynasty, you can retire tomorrow. Just remember who told you about it.

Hotboy, take your time, I've increased the dose to 3 bottles a day now, I'll try and drink the whole 144 before you get here, so there'll be nothing to interfere with your samosa levels.

They've filled in the bunker, but I had time to visit one of the old holiday fitness camps.

Did you perhaps unconsciously plagiarise the toilet stuff from Jimmer's place? You seem to be getting the hang of postmodernism now.  

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 Hotboy said...

No, to the jimmy place thing. The only person I remember plaguiar ... stealing from was St Teresa, and a joke from Jack Dee. Fraid the crap is all mine. Has Jimbo got more dirty photies posted? Too busy with ra bliss to have a look. Maybe later. Hotboy  

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 zomba said...

Definitely an impressive shadow, Rob.

Hotboy keeps asking me what happened the last time we went for morning coffee, when the cricket was rained off.

I have no recollection of anything that happened after the rickshaw stopped at the off-licence.

What should I tell him?

MM III  

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 Lee Ann said...

Wow, I wish it were so. My other grandparents are Hilton (Hilton hotels are from a wealthy family here), which I don't think I am descended from that wealthy family either. Hmmm, wish my names Robertson and Hilton could help me in that way:)  

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 onan the bavarian said...

Cher, I am still cute, though nowadays only on the inside. I regularly enjoy your blog, it has a meditative quality that hotboy would appreciate.

MM III - I tried the link; you've clearly been taking HTML lessons from hotboy. Given his intake of poisons, it's admirable that he can remember his name, never mind social events or computer skills.

Lee ann, with your heritage we can corner the market in jam-based hotels. Just what they need in New Orleans.

Hotboy. If your memory is up to it, what was the Jack Dee joke?  

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