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 .Glesca Stories I
   ( stories added in no specific order )
A famous incident at Glasgow Sheriff Court was when during a court case one of the witnesses was German and it soon became apparent he could speak little English.
The court clerk in exasperation asked the courtroom if anyone could speak German to translate for the court. A wee Glesga punter in the galleries stood up " I can speak German m'lord, learnt it during the war"
He was asked to come forward and ask the witness his name. He went to to the front of the court cleared his throat and bawled.... " Vot is your name.. eh!"........he was fined for contempt!
Glesca parents would always ask you if you had clean underwear on case you had an accident.
You can imagine your Mother going up to the hospital and the nurse saying, "Mrs McArthur, your son's in a terrible state. He fell off a double decker bus and he is in intensive care. I don't know if I can let you see him right now.....incidentally his underwear was a bloody disgrace!"
Deathbed Confession.
Jimmy was on his deathbed. His wife Agnes, was maintaining a vigil by his side. She held his fragile hand, tears ran down her face. Her praying roused him from his slumber. He looked up and his pale lips began to move slightly. 'Aw hen, ma wee sweetheart,' he whispered.
'Hush, Jimmy,' she said. 'Rest. Shhh. Don't talk.'   He was insistent. 'Agnes,' he said in his tired voice. 'Ah've got tae tell ye something.' 'There's nothing to tell,' replied the weeping Agnes. 'Everything's aw right, go to sleep.'
'Naw, naw. I must die in peace, Agnes. I had an affair with your sister, your best pal and your Ma.'
'I know, I know' she whispered...... 'That's why I poisoned you.'
John Lambie, Partick Thistle manager, when told a concussed striker did not know who he was. 
That's great, tell him he's Pele and get him back on!
One fine Glasgow wet evening, the managing director of Solripe (The Ginger peeple!) went to Parkhead to watch his beloved Glasgow Celtic skelp some other wee Scottish team's bahookie. Finding the car park (?) full he drove his brand new Volvo to park in the famous "side streets" of the holy ground. 
( see 'streets o' Brigton' Barrowfield St )
"The Glasgow wean" who commissioned him with 'kin a watch yur motor mister?' was disappointed when the ginger baron decided to save himself 50p by announcing "No thanks!" Pointing to his new motor, his pride and joy, he commented "I think those two can look after it just fine" - (Two snarling rottweilers echoed) his money saving tip.
After watching "Jinky" Johnstone destroy some other Scottish "Up and Coming" right-back the smug tycoon returned to his motor to find..... 4 flat tyres and a note on his car windae!!....

This bloke is sitting reading his Daily Record newspaper when his wife sneaks up behind him and whacks him on the head with a frying pan. "Whit wis that fur?" he cries.
"That wis for the piece of paper in yir trooser pockets with the name Mary-Rose written oan it," said she. "Don't be daft," he explains,"two weeks ago when I went to the races Mary-Rose wis the name of one o' the horses I bet on." She seems satisfied and, apologises, and goes off to do work around the house.
Three days later he's again sitting in his chair reading when she nails him again with the frying pan, knocking him out cold. When he comes around, he says, "whit the hell wis that fur?" "Your horse phoned!" she said.
A wee Glesca man and a woman who have never met before find themselves in the same sleeping carriage of a train. After the initial embarrassment, they both manage to get to sleep, the woman on the top bunk, the man on the lower. In the middle of the night, the woman leans over and says, "I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm freezing and I was wondering if you could possibly pass me another blanket."   The man leans out and with a glint in his eye, says, 
"I've got a better idea....let's kidd-on wir married." "Why not," giggles the woman.
"Good", he replies. "Get your own blanket!"
A salesman knocks at the door of a home in Glesga and it's answered by a 12yr old boy with a cigar in one hand and a half empty bottle of scotch in the other. The salesman asks the boy, "Excuse me son but is your Ma or Da in?"  To which the boy replies, "Does it look like it?"
.A Glesca woman from Glasgow's west-end was staying in a hotel in Edinburgh, she phoned room service for some pepper. "Black pepper, or white pepper?" asked the concierge. "Toilet pepper!" yelled the woman!
A wee Glesca boy comes home from school and tells his mother he's been given a part in the school play. 'Wonderful. Whit part is it?' The boy says,'I play the part of the Scottish husband.'
The mother scowls and says, 'Go back an' tell that teacher you want a speaking part!'
One day the Primary 1 teacher was reading the story of the Three Little Pigs to her class.
She came to the part of the story where the first pig was trying to accumulate the building materials for his home. She read, "...And so the pig went up to the man with the wheelbarrow full of straw and said, "Pardon me sir, but may I have some of that straw to build my house?'"
The teacher paused then asked the class, "And what do you think that man said?"
One little boy raised his hand and said, "I think he said bloody hell! A talking pig!'"
The teacher was unable to teach for the next 10 minutes.
This did happen on the number 7 'caur' from Bellahouston, hurtling towards Brigton Cross on a Friday about teatime, when we were all dying to get off and either into the pub or onto another tram or just home. A small bloke who had a really bad hunchback was standing down on the running step ready to alight when it slowed down, but couldn't be seen properly by the impatient crowd behind.I heard some of them getting really impatient and shouting for him to hurry up and jump. Turning round to them he fearlessly shouted back.."This is a humph ah've got no a bloody parachute". Well, everyone nearly fell off with laughing.  (Bob Hay)

Glesca marriage secrets revealed :-
Glesca couple reveal secrets to making a marriage last:

  • Twice a week, they go out to a nice restaurant, have a little wine, some good food and companionship. She goes on Tuesdays, he goes on Fridays.

  • They also sleep in separate beds. Hers is in Edinburgh and his is in Glasgow.

  • He  takes his wife everywhere, but she keeps finding her way back.

  • He hasn't spoken to his wife for 18 months. He doesn't like to interrupt her.

  • He knows he definitely married Mrs Right…….he didn’t know her first name was Always!

  • Why do most Glesca men die before their wives? Because they want to.


Bed-wetting...ah heard a great story about a wee boy who shared the family bed with his brothers, this night when his Ma asked which end he wanted to sleep at......... he said " the shallow-end!"
Wee guy from London is coming up to Glasgow for the first time to see his mate who has moved up here and got a job. 'How will I know where to find you?' he asks. 'Get off the bus at the Bridgeton Dogs Home, I live just around the corner' says the exiled Londoner. So, his mate gets off the train at Central Station and gets on a bus for Bridgeton. He says to the driver. 'Could you let me off at the Bridgeton Dogs Home, mate? Bridgeton Dogs Home' The driver kind of nods. Eventually the bus arrives in the Bridgeton area but there is no sign of any indication from the driver to the poor lad from London. Eventually he decides to take potluck and gets off just past the Cross. On his way off the bus he again says to the driver 'Bridgeton Dogs Home!' The driver gives him a blank look. The stranger now completely lost asks scores of people over the next half hour, always with the same words-'Bridgeton Dogs Home' This goes on and on and every time he asks he gets a blank look. Finally he cracks up and is going up and down Dalmarnock Road and into Main Street screaming 'Bridgeton Dogs Home.' 'Bridgeton Dogs Home.' Finally this wee hard looking guy with an angry look on his face approaches our friend and says in a threatening voice. 'Look pal don't go 'roon telling us aw that the Brigton dug's hame, naebody here knew that it wis away in the first place!'
In a wee shop in Brigton there was a sign which read "Beware of the dug". A stranger  entered the shop, looked around, but could only see a harmless old dog lying fast asleep on the floor next to the counter. He asked the shopkeeper "Is that the dog we are supposed to beware of?" The shopkeeper said "Aye". The guy looked surprised and said "Well, he doesn't look dangerous to me, why did you put that sign up?"    He replied "Because people kept tripping over him."
Same Ronnie was reading his local newspaper when he spotted a holiday to be won by the reader who can write the best pun. Ronnie thinks: " well I'm a clever so and so, I'll send in 10 different puns and one of them is bound to win" pun in ten did.
Not a Glesca story but one I like.....urban myth so I'm told
His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the  bog. There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy,  screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from  what could have been a slow and terrifying death. 
The next day, a  fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings. An elegantly  dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy  Farmer Fleming had saved. "I want to repay you, " said the nobleman. "You  saved my son's life." "No, I can't accept payment for what I did, " the Scottish farmer replied, waving off the offer. At that moment, the farmer's  own son came to the door of the family hovel. "Is that your son? "  the nobleman asked. "Yes, " the farmer replied proudly. "I'll make  you a deal. Let me provide him with the level of education my son will  enjoy. If the lad is anything like his father, he'll no doubt grow to be a  man we both will be proud of."
And that he did. Farmer Fleming's son  attended the very best schools and in time, he graduated from St. Mary's  Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout  the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of  Penicillin. 
Years afterward, the same nobleman's son who was saved from  the bog was stricken with pneumonia. What saved his life this time?  Penicillin. The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill. His son's  name? Sir Winston Churchill.
.(Alexander Fleming born at Lochfield Farm near Darvel, in Ayrshire)
Glesca Stories II Glesca Stories III GP Short Stories Adult Stories for over 18s Glesca Adult stories
          ( over 18's only )


Hope you all enjoyed these tales and had a good laugh.......webmaister.



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 Last update 01 July, 2011  


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