The Queen was touring a Scottish hospital. She approached the bed of a patient who shouted out: “Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face, Great chieftain o’ the pudding-race!”
Another patient staggered up to her and sang “Should auld acquaintance be forgot.”
Turning to a doctor she asked if she was in a ward for mental patients.
“No ma’am,” he said. “This is the Burns Unit.”
[Editor’s note: look up the works of Scottish poet Robert Burns if you have trouble getting this pun. But, hey, it’s the closest joke I have that is in any way related to writing and the Olympics, which used to have poetry competition as an event. Sadly, no more. Not in the modern Olympics, which I like could use a little literary lift.]
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