A day in Scotland, ....pretty nice? I'd say so. Guess it pays off to not spend every waking moment at the pub. I guess I'd feel tired if I wasn't so busy fantasizing about running through the fields in a kilt swinging around my broadsword.
Wait, a local? No,... he looks thirsty. There's some water at your feet buddy.
Why is it called a fork? All I see is grass and sky,... and another guy looking for something.
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