One day Mr. McSomething told his wife: "Honey, are my pants?".
His wife, looking sorry replied: "Sorry dear, but in the last battle against the English * spits on the ground * the rajaste you in all your holy buttocks."
The Highlander, which no pants could not leave (because Scotland is a place where it's cold), reproached him: "What I now until I get me some new things ? "But his wife could not give an immediate solution. Faced with the terrifying vis
ion of an entire evening at home with his wife, not beer, Mc Something was forced to take drastic measures: he took the first thing that caught her white buttocks to cover Scotland, in this If a skirt of his wife, and went in the direction of the nearest bar.
When walking through the streets of the village and its parishioners saw him looking like that began to laugh. But the rude Scots attacked them punched and kicked it clear that this garment was not a skirt, but a kilt, a cloth carrying their ancestors ancestral male and had a clear difference from towhat evenings entertain my Christmas vacation ...
Be happy!
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