My 75 y/o Scottish grandpa told me this at a family lunch.

A farmer walks into the bar and sits down beside me looking extremely agitated.

“What’s goin’ on with ya Pete?”

“Ah jesus, Brian. So I got up early and was milking my biggest cow in her stall. I had a pail just about full when she kicked her right leg and spilled the entire thing.”

“Aw Christ, Pete. I’m sorry about that.”

“So, pissed off, I found a length of rope and tied her right leg to her stall so she wouldn’t kick again and went back to milking her. I had this second pail just over half full when CRASH her left leg jolts and knocks it all over the floor. I’m fuming so I went and found another length of rope and tied her left leg to her stall nice and tight and propped the pail up again. No way to kick it over now, right?”


“Well about a quarter full, her tail whips around the handle of the bucket and sends it flying. So I go stomping around looking for another length of rope but couldn’t find anything. I thought, ah, this bitch deserves the belt anyways. So I took off the belt holding up my pants and tied her tail to the crossbeam above her stall.”

“Don’t tell me she kicked it over again.”

“Nah, then my wife walked in.”

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