Lechyd Da

Half a lifetime ago I found myself working in Port Penrhyn,a small,bleak fishing port at the
entrance to the Menai Straits in North Wales.I found it to be most unfriendly and miserable,
not unlike it's inhabitants who were also dour and miserable.I've had no time for the sullen
bastards ever since and over the years have taken great pleasure out of any misfortune
to have fallen on their Soccer and Rugby teams,the jabbering Welsh-speaking cunts.My
reasons for being there were manyfold,but mainly because I was in an un-cooperative
mood with the local constabulary,and was unwilling to help them with their enquiries into
an unsolved arson case in which a "Listed" hotel was gutted.The Corporation had wanted
to preserve the hotel,a property developer took the opposite view,An "Italian Barbeque"
settled their dilemma and I fuckled off on the Mailboat.

All the sourness and dourness started to get me down so one day I approached a local in the
pub (even the pubs were miserable,closing all day on Sundays ),

"What is it with you Welsh people,I try to be friendly and all youse seem to do is ignore me
or worse still,turn your backs and jabber away in welsh."

Somewhat taken aback,he answered

"well you see,it's like this.North Wales is a Welsh-speaking area,is very old-fashioned and
we don't trust you English.As soon as you open your mouth we know you're one of THEM."

Ignorant of his unintended insult, he continued,

"What you want to do is learn a little of the language to impress the locals,they'll loosen
up a little then."

"You must be fuckin' joking."

"No no no,Boyo.(I swear he said this) Its not hard,for instance,Lechyd Da means Good Day."

"Yakkie Daw" I repeated.

"Close enough "says he."and Bori Da and Nos Da mean Good Morning and Good Night "

"Borrie Daw,Nos Daw,Yakkie Daw."I mimicked.

Full of resolve to try out my newfound linguistic skills ,I went out and headed back home
through the pissing rain and cold,in truth it was more like a mini-hurricane.Just to spite
me there wasn't a Welshman to be seen anywhere,the miserable cunts.After walking about
half a mile I came across a car broken down in a huge pool of water with the unfortunate
driver knee deep in water and half under the bonnet.If anything the poor fucker was even
wetter than me as the wind drove the sheets of rain directly at him.

Not being put off by a little thing like two foot of water,I waded out and tapped him on the
shoulder,"Yakkie Daw" I said proudly.The poor fucker got such a fright he banged his head
on the bonnet and dropped his tools in the water.He looked at me with disgust and temper
and in a venomous English accent spat,

"Fuck off,you Welsh bastard."