Greetings, loyal minions. Your Maximum Leader was just saying how there were too many things to celebrate going on this past weekend. One of them was Robert Burns Day (which was yesterday). Just like Lunar New Year sneaking up on him, this one snuck up on him too. Sure he got the little reminders that he sets for interesting cultural remembrances like Robert Burns Day. But he disregarded them… So… He didn’t celebrate the great day. Sadly, no one invited him to a Burns Dinner either…

While your Maximum Leader didn’t have a haggis last night, he did have lamb (which if it had been allowed to grow up would have become a sheep suitable for making into haggis). He didn’t read any Burns poetry either.

As sad as it might be that there wasn’t formal celebrating, the day did not pass unnoticed by your Maximum Leader’s loyal readers…

One “Haggis McHaggis” posted a wee little poem for your Maximum Leader’s edification at last year’s Burns Day post. It made your Maximum Leader chuckle so that he feels he must repost it here.

Tae A Fart

Oh what a sleekit horrible beastie
Lurks in yer belly efter the feastie
As ye sit doon amongst yer kin
There sterts tae stir an enormous win’

The neeps an’ tatties an’ mushy peas
Stert workin’ like a gentle breeze
But soon the puddin’ wi’ the sonsie face
Will have ye blawin’ a’ ower the place.

Nae matter whit the hell ye dae
A’body’s gonnae hae tae pay
Even if ye try tae stifle
It’s like a bullet oot o’ a rifle

Haud yer bum tight tae the chair
Tae try an’ stop the leakin’ air
Shift yersel fae cheek tae cheek
Pray tae God it disnae reek.

But aw yer efforts gan asunder
Oot it comes like a clap o’ thunder
Ricochets aroon’ the room
Michty me! A sonic boom

God Almichty, it fairly reeks!
Hope I huvnae s**t ma breeks!
Tae the bog ah’d better scurry,
Ach, whit the hell, it’s no ma worry.

A’body roon aboot me chokin’
Yin or twa were nearly boakin’
I’ll feel better for a while
Cannae help but raise a smile.

Wis him! I shout with accusin’ glower,
Alas! Too late! He’s just keeled ower
Ye dirty bugger, they shout and stare
A didnae feel welcome ony mair

Where e’r ye be let yer wind gan free
Sounds like just the job for me
Whit a fuss at Rabbie’s party
Ower the sake o’ one wee farty.

That there is funny. Your Maximum Leader is curious to learn which of his readers might be “Haggis McHaggis.” If you would like to fess up - your secret is safe with your Maximum Leader…

Carry on.