Anywiy wan ae these lassies, an’ yiv goat tae know that
these are no’ whit ye’d ca’ demure
lassies, thir hard as negs itherwise they widnae be daen whit they wur, ane ae
thum grabs ma wee mate Mattie, who’s aboot ages wi’ me, so he’s aboot fourteen
an her an ur mates start draggin um toward the fire escape door (the fire
escape bein where illicit scheme sexual shenanigans took place even though it
stinks ae pish an is full ae used johnnies). Me an a couplae ither bouys get
the lift up so that we can get tae the floor above whare wee matties gonnie get
a seein to. So we’re crouched up ther tryin no ay giggle an the lassies are aw
screetchin and sayin thir gonnie ride wee mattie an that when therz a miniscule
wee brek in proceedings followed by even louder screetchin an laughin.
‘Eys goat skiddies oan ays knickers!’, ane ae them proclaims louder than the human
ear kin bear an they aw fa’ aboot. Poor wee matties left tae pull up said
soiled undergarments and skulk off away hame knowin thit this’ll be roon the scheme
faster thin fanny rash. Ah didnae notice any ae the ither buoys venturing forth
too readily eftir that.
Embdy wantin thir hole indeed!
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