Facebook

I still can´t understand what Facebook is all about.
When I open it, there are gnomic little items saying things like:

Betty Lou Buggins is cold - brrr!
or,
Charlie Grogblossom is thinking of playing golf.

Am I supposed to care? Do I demonstrate some fundamental lack of fellow-feeling for my fellow humans? Probably. We shall see.


The handsome chap above (although a bit too similar to the buffoon Tom Cruise for my taste) is Robert Burns who has just turned 250. Or would have, had he not died 213 years ago, aged 37.
Fond as I am of the Scots, I have never been all that keen on his stuff. This is almost certainly unfair, as he was not responsible for the dirge-like music that goes with "Auld Langs Syne," or "Coming Through the Rye." At least I don´t think he was. If I am wrong I will swiftly be corrected, no doubt.
And, had I known that the latter is a hymn to casual sex, I would have sung it good deal more enthusiastically when such things seemed important.
Anyway, here is the ditty, in English, more or less.


Coming Through The Rye.

O Jenny is all wet, poor body,
Jenny is seldom dry:
She draggled all her petticoats,
Coming through the rye!

Coming through the rye, poor body,
Coming through the rye,
She draggled all her petticoats,
Coming through the rye!

Should a body meet a body
Coming through the rye,
Should a body kiss a body,
Need a body cry?

Should a body meet a body
Coming through the glen,
Should a body kiss a body,
Need the world know?

Should a body meet a body
Coming through the grain,
Should a body kiss a body,
The thing is a body's own.