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Re: [TR] Skirted thermostats

To: Dave1massey@cs.com,triumphs@autox.team.net
Subject: Re: [TR] Skirted thermostats
From: "spook01@comcast.net" <spook01@comcast.net>
Date: Fri, 12 Apr 2013 07:34:54 -0500 s=q20121106; t=1365770097; bh=D5Adb07ptBAQ0HkjbheyI2asTlq90aan6bM/YNDsmIo=; h=Received:Received:To:From:Subject:Date:MIME-Version:Content-Type; b=gs5V+vIkkOFY/LBfj58PyqjVPhkvw8UeNlnvQuJXYRMt0d/loFSvFRqzcgwkLP2rd zFi5PWScHyC1FDTx0lB6e+xGl81+UsLJ4VO3FathtHwt8oIPA3CBUfUF57J0lfJTCx W27+dyBJwHpOS3O4ZpVkqmToeWLKJOuMpBq9yqpcIxMx6VdnmChN2qacQ6Ft7FrUxi Moua+spRaZWHz7kRDxdBqR3EqgvA2KpVol0Pb02anCLAtkE0V5fXf3igmZ5JktEDbk qbCLnxfprkmSY0VHEBFyXuVWgx9Qgp5RrxAlHsQUT7w015gbrEMppY0P5nV3uMCuYv qUXYYiV2Rs3ww==
Delivered-to: mharc@autox.team.net
Delivered-to: triumphs@autox.team.net
Two young girls came by and one said to the other, "Nell, I want to know what 
these Scots wear under their kilts"!
Her friend was enthusiastic, too, and so they pulled up the lads kilt.
After admiring the length and breadth, one girl playfully tied a hair ribbon 
around the member, and the girls laughed about it on the way home.
In the morning, the young scotsman awoke and with a sore head went to relieve 
himself.
As he stood behind a bush he was startled to find the ribbon!
"Lad, I don't know where ye've been, but you've won first prize!"

Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone

----- Reply message -----
From: Dave1massey@cs.com
To: <triumphs@autox.team.net>
Subject: [TR] Skirted thermostats
Date: Fri, Apr 12, 2013 07:08


Scotsman clad in kilt left the bar one evening fair
And one could tell by the way he walked that he drunk more than his share
He fumbled round until he cold no longer keep his feet
Then he stumbled off into the grass to sleep beside the street.

http://www.lyrster.com/come-back/ring-ding-dittle-little-eye-de-o/www.thebar
ds.net/music/lyrics/The_Scotsman.shtml


In a message dated 4/12/2013 4:05:28 AM Central Daylight Time, 
mmarr@mail1.notwires.com writes: 
> Ah just got doon fra' the Isles o' Skye, Ah'm no' very big an' ah'm awfu' 
> shy, an' the lassies say, when I go by, "Donald, where's yer troosers?"

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