From: glen mccready To: 0xdeadbeef@substance.abuse.blackdown.org Cc: sam@qnx.com, tracy@qnx.com, tanya@qnx.com, barbara@qnx.com, lasb@cyberus.ca Date: Mon, 14 Jul 1997 11:11:47 -0400


Forwarded-by: Keith Bostic <bostic@bostic.com>
Forwarded-by: "Daniel V. Klein" <dvk@lonewolf.com>

The Setting: An old-timer in a bar in Scotland:

"Lad, look out there in the field.  Do ya see that fence?  Look how well
it's built.  I built that fence by stone with me own hands.  Took me four
months.  But do they call me McGreggor the fence builder?  No.

"Look at this bar.  Do ya see how smooth and just right it is?  I planed
that surface down by me own achin'back.  I carved that wood with me own
hard labour for eight days.  But do they call me McGreggor the builder?
No.

The old man points out the window.  "Eh, Laddy, look out to sea.  Do ya
see that pier that stretches out as far as the eye can see?  I built that
pier with the sweat off me brow.  I nailed it board by board.  But do they
call me McGreggor the pier builder?  No.

"But you fuck one pig...