Anything Scottish, just for fun!

Jock Rogers.... The Buckfast Buccaneer
Before Buckfast became a national institution, before park benches feared for their safety and corner shops locked their fridges at 10pm, it was little more than a quiet tonic wine made in the south of England.


In the 1880s, Benedictine monks fleeing persecution in France settled at Buckfast Abbey in Devon, where they began producing the fortified wine to help fund the abbey. It was never intended to travel far.....Until 1885.


That was the year Scottish sailor Jock Rogers decided Scotland was being unfairly deprived.


Despite piracy technically being “over” by the early 1800s, Jock refused to accept this decision and assembled a crew made up of volunteers, drifters, and at least one man nobody remembered inviting.


Setting sail from Scotland, Jock and his men reached Devon under cover of fog and extremely loose maritime law.
Posing as harmless travellers with “a keen interest in religion,” the crew gained access to Buckfast Abbey, before carrying out what history now remembers as The Great Abbey Emptying of 1885.


Barrels were rolled. Crates were lifted. Bottles vanished. By morning, the abbey was quieter than ever and Jock’s ship was sitting noticeably lower in the water.
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Upon returning to Scotland, Buckfast’s effects were immediate. Men sang louder. Bad decisions were made far quicker. Several arguments were started with objects that could not reply. Buckfast spread rapidly across the country, quickly becoming one of Scotland’s most popular alcoholic drinks, a title it has stubbornly refused to surrender ever since.
Jock Rogers was forever after known as “The Buckfast Buccaneer.”


Legend says Buckfast allows ordinary people to do extraordinary things, but one night, Jock took this far too literally. Deep in his pirate persona and fuelled entirely by tonic wine confidence, Jock allegedly declared himself “a true buccaneer” and decided to fully commit to the role. What happened that evening has been lost to time, conflicting witness statements, and several men who refused to discuss it ever again.


What is known…is that Jock awoke the next morning with no lower legs, and in their place, two freshly fitted wooden peg legs. Who installed them? How they were attached? And why one was slightly shorter than the other remains a mystery.
From that day on, whenever someone had clearly consumed far too much alcohol, locals would say they were “legless” in honour of Jock Rogers, the first but not the only man in Scottish history to wake up literally legless after a night on the bevvy.
 

Hairy Queen of Shots, Ancient Ruler of the Haggis Realm

Long before modern Scotland, before clocks, calendars, and the dangerous invention known as “just five more minutes,” the haggis community was ruled by one of its most legendary monarchs.



Her name was Hairy Queen of Shots, a rare ginger haggis of royal blood, instantly recognisable by her fiery fur, commanding squeak, and permanent aroma of strong spirits.



Born sometime around “a very long time ago, probably a Tuesday,” the Hairy Queen rose to power during an age of total disorder. Haggis grazed at random hours. Some rolled before dawn. Others didn’t emerge until lunchtime. A few simply screamed into the wind for no recorded reason.




Scotland’s haggis community needed structure, and so the Queen introduced what would become her greatest legacy...The Great Morning Shot Decree.



From that day forth, every haggis in the land was required to take one ceremonial shot at exactly 7am, to properly prepare the body, soul and internal organs for the challenges of the day ahead.



Official royal records list the purpose as, warmth, courage and spiritual grounding
At the sounding of the Queen’s ceremonial horn thousands of haggis would gather across the Highlands, raise their tiny cups, and recite the ancient motto “One wee yin afore grazin’.”

Morale soared.

Confidence and productivity of the haggis community increased.

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However, as with many powerful rulers, the Hairy Queen’s influence began to worry others.
Rival burrows grew uneasy, particularly after the introduction of the controversial “double on Fridays” policy. Whispers spread beneath the heather. Alliances shifted. Cups were counted.
Eventually, the Queen was accused of treason against sobriety, a charge brought forward by those who couldn’t handle their drink.



She was removed from power and placed under long term burrow arrest, confined and heavily guarded. She was permitted visitors, letters… and only very small measures.
Years passed.


Then, on a misty morning, the final judgement was delivered. As legend tells it, the Hairy Queen stood proudly, fluffed her ginger fur, adjusted her royal tartan tuft, and raised one last ceremonial cup. Her final words were said to be, “If ah must lose ma heid… make sure it’s a clean shot.”



Though her reign ended, her legacy could not be silenced. The Great Morning Shot Decree became sacred, passed down through generations.


To this very day, deep in the glens, if you listen carefully at exactly 7am, you may still hear the clink of tiny glasses.


The ritual continues, not in command but in remembrance of Hairy Queen of Shots
 

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A Chinese woman, who is married to a Scot, tells you
what she loves and misses about Scotland.
The video is 8 minutes long, but you can skip through
it, I found it interesting, with truth in it that others miss.

Mike.
 
Just as humans grow up with the irrational fear of a monster lurking beneath the bed, a shadowy figure that comes to represent our deepest anxieties and childhood fears, the Scottish haggis carries a terror of its own.
For haggis, the nightmare is far more specific....A human under the bed.
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From an early age, young hagglets are warned never to dangle a paw over the straw after dark, for fear a hunter’s hand may reach out and snatch them away. Elders speak in hushed tones of breathing sounds that aren’t theirs… and footsteps that circle when the lights go out.

This fear exists all year round, but it becomes especially heightened in the final days of January. As Burns Night approaches, the air itself changes. Fires are lit. Poems are rehearsed. Knives are polished. Across the Highlands, haggis begin sleeping closer together, barricading burrow entrances and whispering ancient prayers passed down through generations.

Parents reassure their young that it’s only superstition. Yet every year, without fail, at least one haggis swears they heard a human coughing beneath the bed… muttering something about neeps, tatties, and “just one more wee slice.”

Whether myth or memory, no haggis truly sleeps soundly during the last nights before January 25th.

Because monsters, after all, are always most frightening, when they’re real and come with cutlery
 
Haggis Communities Flee as Net Wielding Hunters Close In Near Falkirk

Across Scotland, reports continue to emerge of wild haggis communities abandoning their usual safe spaces as hunters close in during the last days of The January Haggis Hunt.

After last week’s magical incident left all firearms mysteriously transformed into thistles, hunters nationwide have been forced to downgrade their equipment…
to nets on sticks.

While officials insist the situation isn't currently ideal, scenes unfolding near Falkirk and Grangemouth tell a very dramatic story.

Earlier today, a small but well established haggis community was spotted attempting a desperate escape after being pursued by net armed hunters across open ground.
With nowhere left to run, the haggis turned toward the only safe haven they could think of…
The Kelpies.

Eyewitnesses described hundreds of haggis charging the base of the colossal structures before beginning to climb the metal panels in a frantic bid for higher ground.

Those who made it first now cling to the towering forms for safety while below, stragglers can still be seen sprinting through the rain, desperately attempting to reach the statues before it’s too late.
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Wildlife experts say this behaviour is highly unusual, noting that haggis normally avoid climbing if they don't have to and Falkirk altogether.

One soaked onlooker commented
“I’ve never seen anything like it…
they just kept running.
Wee legs going like absolute rockets.”

More updates expected as the January Haggis Hunt continues with Haggis communities nationwide watching nervously from under rocks, behind bins, and increasingly…
on top of very large statues.

Will they be able to hold on for 2 days ? Or will their wee paws give up, as hunters wait below?
 
Haggis Communities Flee as Net Wielding Hunters Close In Near Falkirk

Across Scotland, reports continue to emerge of wild haggis communities abandoning their usual safe spaces as hunters close in during the last days of The January Haggis Hunt.

After last week’s magical incident left all firearms mysteriously transformed into thistles, hunters nationwide have been forced to downgrade their equipment…
to nets on sticks.

While officials insist the situation isn't currently ideal, scenes unfolding near Falkirk and Grangemouth tell a very dramatic story.

Earlier today, a small but well established haggis community was spotted attempting a desperate escape after being pursued by net armed hunters across open ground.
With nowhere left to run, the haggis turned toward the only safe haven they could think of…
The Kelpies.

Eyewitnesses described hundreds of haggis charging the base of the colossal structures before beginning to climb the metal panels in a frantic bid for higher ground.

Those who made it first now cling to the towering forms for safety while below, stragglers can still be seen sprinting through the rain, desperately attempting to reach the statues before it’s too late.
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Wildlife experts say this behaviour is highly unusual, noting that haggis normally avoid climbing if they don't have to and Falkirk altogether.

One soaked onlooker commented
“I’ve never seen anything like it…
they just kept running.
Wee legs going like absolute rockets.”

More updates expected as the January Haggis Hunt continues with Haggis communities nationwide watching nervously from under rocks, behind bins, and increasingly…
on top of very large statues.

Will they be able to hold on for 2 days ? Or will their wee paws give up, as hunters wait below?
I was just about to post this same one!!!! Great minds......
 
FINAL DAY OF THE HUNT, Haggis Hold On as Scotland’s Animals Launch Full Rescue Mission

As the final day of the January Haggis Hunt dawned, scenes at the Kelpies were described by witnesses as “emotional,” “windy,” and “far too dramatic for Falkirk.”

Throughout the night, violent winds and relentless rain battered the towering statues, as hundreds of haggis clung on for dear life, fur plastered to metal, tiny legs gripping steel panels with heroic determination.
Cold.
Exhausted.
Still refusing to come doon.

But just as daylight broke, Scotland’s animals answered the call once again.
First to arrive were the Highland coos, forming a slow moving defensive circle around the base of the Kelpies, horns outward, expressions unimpressed, physically blocking any remaining hunters from advancing.

Moments later, the unicorns appeared.
Witnesses reported shimmering hooves, faint rainbow mist, and several hunters immediately losing confidence in their life choices.
Attempts to reach the haggis were swiftly abandoned.

Then… the sky darkened.
From across the Central Belt came a sound feared by all who walk Scottish soil....The midges.
Scotland’s giant midges, usually warning, or a punishment, descended upon the scene in organised swarms.
Rather than attacking the haggis, the midges carefully assisted the rescue operation gently guiding haggis down from the statues, airlifting to safety behind the animal barricade,

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Meanwhile, hunters were also lifted…
though notably not to safety.
Several were last seen being carried eastward, screaming, towards Fife.

Officials say recovery efforts are “ongoing.”
By afternoon, the Kelpies stood once again quiet, no haggis clinging to their sides, no nets in sight, only rain, hoofprints, and a silent scene around the base.

The January Haggis Hunt is nearly over.
And once again, nature has spoken.
Quite loudly.
With hooves.
And horns.
And midges the size of buses
 
Thousands of Haggi have today emerged from hiding as the Ceremonial Highland Cannon was fired, officially signalling the end of the Annual January Haggi Hunt.

After weeks spent sheltering in Scotland, being protected by Nessie, Unicorns, Highland Coo's and Midges, the Highlands were today transformed into a moving sea of Haggi as they triumphantly returned home.

Witnesses described hillsides “rippling with fur” as families were reunited after nearly a month of being separated.

Awaiting them were members of the pro haggis organisation Save The Haggis, who lined the roads and glens, waving banners, and distributing emergency comfort supplies, including a massive ceremonial crate of whisky and teacakes to help the traumatised Haggi readjust to haggis life.

Authorities have confirmed the Highlands may experience “record breaking levels of drunkness, furry chaos, and questionable decisions” over the coming days.
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Normal Haggi behaviour is expected to resume shortly… well until next January unless efforts by The Save the Haggis Campaign to ban the hunt are successful by next year.

Hope everyone had a great Burns Night
Long live the Haggis
 


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