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Burns Night 250th Anniversary


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Burns Night Suppers are one of the annual highlights of Scottish culture and this year to celebrate the 250th Anniversary of the birth of the iconic poet Robert Burns Tuskers joins with the Scottish community in Chiang Mai to bring you a night of theatre, feasting and whisky. There is much ritual and ceremony which will be evocative for Scots and a great cultural eye opener for other nationalities.

The full Burns Night programme with a bit of an explanation of the various ceremonies is available on the Tuskers website.

If you would like to join us please book early so we are able to sort out all the catering arrangements.

All very welcome. :o


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I think we can manage something for the 23rd JackR :o and any other national day anyone would like to celebrate. It's part of the benefits of living among such an international community.

So did you manage to get a Haggis???? Did you order online????

I spoke to my local butchers and he said alot of his orders go overseas. Crombies Edinburgh

Glad to see you got a Haggis.

The bard of all time. Rabbie Burns.

Address to a Haggis.

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,

Great chieftain o the puddin'-race!

Aboon them a' ye tak your place,

Painch, tripe, or thairm:

Weel are ye wordy of a grace

As lang's my arm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,

Your hurdies like a distant hill,

Your pin wad help to mend a mill

In time o need,

While thro your pores the dews distil

Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour dight,

An cut you up wi ready slight,

Trenching your gushing entrails bright,

Like onie ditch;

And then, O what a glorious sight,

Warm-reekin, rich!

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an strive:

Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,

Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve

Are bent like drums;

The auld Guidman, maist like to rive,

'Bethankit' hums.

Is there that owre his French ragout,

Or olio that wad staw a sow,

Or fricassee wad mak her spew

Wi perfect sconner,

Looks down wi sneering, scornfu view

On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him owre his trash,

As feckless as a wither'd rash,

His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,

His nieve a nit:

Thro bloody flood or field to dash,

O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,

The trembling earth resounds his tread,

Clap in his walie nieve a blade,

He'll make it whissle;

An legs an arms, an heads will sned,

Like taps o thrissle.

Ye Pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care,

And dish them out their bill o fare,

Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware

That jaups in luggies:

But, if ye wish her gratefu prayer,

Gie her a Haggis!

Then there is this

Holly Willie's Prayer.

O Thou that in the Heavens does dwell,

Wha, as it pleases best Thysel,

Sends ane to Heaven, an ten to hel_l,

A' for Thy glory,

And no for onie guid or ill

They've done before Thee!

I bless and praise Thy matchless might,

When thousands Thou has left in night,

That I am here before Thy sight,

For gifts an grace

A burning and a shining light

To a' this place.

What was I, or my generation,

That I should get sic exaltation?

I, wha deserv'd most just damnation

For broken laws,

Sax thousand years ere my creation,

Thro Adam's cause!

When from my mither's womb I fell,

Thou might hae plung'd me deep in hel_l,

To gnash my gooms, and weep and wail,

In burning lakes,

Whare damned devils roar and yell,

Chain'd to their stakes.

Yet I am here a chosen sample,

To show Thy grace is great and ample:

I'm here a pillar o Thy temple,

Strong as a rock,

A guide, a buckler, and example,

To a' Thy flock!

But yet, O Lord! confess I must,

At times I'm fash'd wi fleshy lust;

An sometimes, too, in warldly trust,

Vile self gets in;

But Thou remembers we are dust,

Defil'd wi sin.

O Lord! yestreen, Thou kens, wi Meg

Thy pardon I sincerely beg

O, may't ne'er be a livin plague

To my dishonour!

An I'll ne'er lift a lawless leg

Again upon her.

Besides, I farther maun avow,

Wi Leezie's lass, three times I trow

But, Lord, that Friday I was fou,

When I cam near her,

Or else, Thou kens, Thy servant true

Wad never steer her.

Maybe Thou lets this fleshly thorn

Buffet Thy servant e'en and morn,

Lest he owre proud and high should turn,

That he's sae gifted:

If sae, Thy han' maun e'en be borne,

Until Thou lift it.

Lord, bless Thy chosen in this place,

For here Thou has a chosen race!

But God confound their stubborn face,

An blast their name,

Wha bring Thy elders to disgrace

An open shame.

Lord, mind Gau'n Hamilton's deserts:

He drinks, an swears, an plays at cartes,

Yet has sae monie takin arts,

Wi great and sma',

Frae God's ain Priest the people's hearts

He steals awa.

And when we chasten'd him therefore,

Thou kens how he bred sic a splore,

And set the warld in a roar

O laughin at us;

Curse Thou his basket and his store,

Kail an potatoes!

Lord, hear my earnest cry and pray'r,

Against that Presbyt'ry o Ayr!

Thy strong right hand, Lord, mak it bare

Upo' their heads!

Lord, visit them, an dinna spare,

For their misdeeds!

O Lord, my God! that glib-tongu'd Aiken,

My vera heart and flesh are quakin,

To think how we stood sweatin, shakin,

An pish'd wi dread,

While he, wi hingin lip, an snakin,

Held up his head.

Lord, in Thy day o vengeance try him!

Lord, visit them wha did employ him!

And pass not in Thy mercy by them,

Nor hear their pray'r,

But for Thy people's sake destroy them,

An dinna spare.

But, Lord, remember me and mine

Wi mercies temporal and divine,

That I for grace an gear may shine,

Excell'd by nane,

And a' the glory shall be Thine

Amen, Amen!

Epitaph on Holy Willie

Here Holy Willie's sair worn clay

Taks up its last abode;

His soul has ta'en some other way

I fear, the left-hand road.

Stop! there he is as sure's a gun!

Poor, silly body, see him!

Nae wonder he's as black's the grun

Observe wha's standing wi him!

Your brunstane Devilship, I see

Has got him there before ye!

But haud your nine-tail cat a wee,

Till ance you've heard my story.

Your pity I will not implore,

For pity ye have nane,

Justice, alas! has gi'en him o'er,

And mercy's day is gane.

But hear me, Sir, Deil as ye are,

Look something to your credit:

A cuif like him wad stain your name,

If it were kent ye did it!

The scottish church will never forget our immoral friend of scotland.

a famous line up for a burns supper.

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So did you manage to get a Haggis???? Did you order online????

After the appropriate research I am going to cook the haggis myself :D:o

As dishes go it doesn't seem particularly difficult (famous last words I know :D )

I have had advice from various people and the halal butcher recommended by TigerBeer has been extremely helpful so it has become a joint venture across several cultures and nationalities. All the fault, should it go pear shaped is of course entirely attributable to me :D

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I am not sure who authored the following, nor whether Rabbie would have approved or not, but can assure that the following verse, recited with a good Scots accent, preferably after a dram or two, provides a uniquely satisfying effect.

Oh, Flo ! I love her so

Especially in her nightie

(And) when the moonlight flits

Across her t*ts

Oh, J*s*s Chr*st, Almighty!


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I am not sure who authored the following, nor whether Rabbie would have approved or not, but can assure that the following verse, recited with a good Scots accent, preferably after a dram or two, provides a uniquely satisfying effect.

Oh, Flo ! I love her so

Especially in her nightie

(And) when the moonlight flits

Across her t*ts

Oh, J*s*s Chr*st, Almighty!


It is from a comedy sketch called derek and clive live aka peter cook and dudley moore both of whom are sadly no longer with us :o

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I hope that the Scots in attendance in kilts will do the decent thing and wear undies. Clean or unclean, it doesn't really matter. The thoughts of eating haggis (which I'm sure is delicious in itself) preserved in sheeps innards is daunting enough without the meat and two veg dangly bits on show :D:D:o

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  • 2 years later...

Its that time of the year agao and we have 3 booked for over the next 10 days.

Keep saying one day in LOS but maybe next year..... :D

Update...The Next Robert Burns Supper (Burns Night) will take place upstairs at the George Inn on Friday 28th January 2011 from 7-30 pm onwards .

Pipe Majour Rebecca will play again and we will also have our friends from the Royal Academy of Music and RADA with hopefully the usual assortment of Bishops,Local Government Ministers and maybe even some minor royalty.

Tickets are limited but still available....Fair Fa yer honest sonsie face.....

Tics all gone but if anyone in area...good for a pint.Piper will play in the yard @ 7-30.....Hoots mon


site also good for finding local London Thai pubs-Rest etc.

..incid I have NO Connection..Just FYI.

Slange....... :partytime2:

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