Morning Open Thread is a daily, copyrighted post, from a host of editors and guest writers. We support our community, invite and share ideas, and encourage thoughtful, respectful dialogue in an open forum.
This series was conceived as a haven where folks can drop in to share conversation, ideas, weather reports, and music. Feel free to leave a note, comment, picture, or tune. As always the diarist gets to sleep in, and may show up long after the post is published. Or not. So you know, it's a feature, not a bug.
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When Sockpuppet heard that U.S. Attorney General William Barr is reported to be a top tier bagpiper, she insisted today’s MOT should be about bagpipes.
Story in Pipes & Drums Magazine.
Never one to pass up a challenge, I have undertaken today’s MOT with the idea in mind that this magnificent ancient instrument of the Highlands should be honored, in a fashion appropriate for recognizing the accomplishments of our newest Attorney General.
Aside from Bill Barr, here are a couple more bagpipe jokes.
Q. How is playing a bagpipe like throwing a javelin blindfolded?
A. You don't have to be very good to get people's attention.
A Canadian Officer, pinned down with his unit in 1944 in Italy, sent an urgent signal to his Commanding Officer:
"Need reinforcements to rescue us, please send six tanks or one piper."
A piper finished a long, hot parade and went to the pub to quench his terrible thirst. He hadn't been there long when he suddenly realized that he had locked his car, but had left his pipes in plain view on the seat.
He rushed back to the car, but was too late. The car window was broken,and there were three more sets of pipes on the back seat.
Without further ado, here are some appropriate pipe tunes suitable for this MOT.
A Scot visited America. He came home. His best friend asked about his trip.
The Scotsman replied, "Americans are the rudest people in the world. For example, in New York City I stayed in a fine hotel. I paid a pretty penny, I can tell you, but at nine o'clock in the evening there were people milling around in the hall, noisy and boisterous. At ten o'clock p.m. it was even worse. There were screams, shouting, people pounding on my door. At eleven o'clock people were banging on the walls, and by midnight they were pounding on my ceiling from the room above and on my floor from the room below. You never heard such noise and such language."
"What did you do?" the friend asked.
"Nothing" the Scotsman replied.
"I minded my own business and kept practicing my bagpipes."