Whae dis she think she is? Eh?
Furst minister, is it? Tell ye what, ah'd gie her a guid doin' if she came roon' here, walkin' aroon in they tartan fuckin' shooz and talkin' about Indyref2 a' the time, gets oan ma tits, so it does.
They fuckin' nashnalists, what a fuckin' state, eh? A' their fuckin' lies about livin' aff the oil an' that.
Pile o' keech.
The oil's no' worth hardly nothin' these days, dae they think we're daft or suhum?
That fuckin Sammin kens fine well we'd be up the swanny wi'oot a lifeboat.
Fat lot that pie muncher cares, he's aye on the golf course wi' his best mate Trump. No' him who'd be aff the dole.
An' thon Sturjin's niver aff the telly. Thought the pie muncher was bad but she's fuckin' worse, gaun oan aboot the Eeyoo an' lettin' a' thae foreigners in an' that. Takin' oor joabs.
No mine. Ah'm oan the Disability like, cozzy ma depreshin, it's right depressin' gettin' sacked fae every joab fer nickin' stuff aff the buildin' site.
But they'd be efter ma joab if ah fuckin' hud wan.
So whatthefuck diz she want to be in the Eeyoo fur? They're a' terrorists anyway.
So the guys roond the pub reckon there'll be another Indyref2 cozzy Brexit, annat.
An' my Nan's a' 'Oh, no! Whit the fuck dae they want to bring that up again fer?'
But I'm furrit.
Fuckin'. bring. it. oan.
Nothin' ah like better than mashin' up fuckin' nashnalists on the weekends.
Fuckin' Bravehearts, cannae fight for toffee.
Maist a' them are wummin an' the wans that arny might as well be, they fuckin' run awa' an' greet like wummin.
That's why I fuckin' hate them.
Independence. Fuckin' pish.
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