Ye're come o bluid, an sae's a puddin.
Ye're like laird Moodie's greyhoonds-unco hungry like aboot the pootch lids.
Ye're Davy-dae-little an guid for naething.
Ye're fear'd for the day ye never saw.
Ye're fit for coorse kintra wark-ye're raither strang than handsome.
Ye're good enough but ye're no braw enough.
Ye're guid tae be sent for sorrow.
Ye're guid tae fetch the deil a priest.
Ye're leukin ower the nest, like the young craws.
Ye're like a bad liver-the last day there's aye maist tae dae wi ye.
Ye're like a hen on a het girdle.
Ye're like a ill shillin-ye'll come back again.
Ye're like a Lauderdale bawbee, as bad as bad can be.
Ye're ane o snaw-baa's bairn time.
Ye're busy tae claer yersel when naebody files ye.
Ye're ane o the tender Gordons-ye daurna be hanged for gaa in yer neck.
Ye're as braw as Bink's wife,-like the sun on shairney watter.
Ye're as daft as ye're days auld.
Ye're as fou o maggots as the bride o Preston, that stoppit hauf wey as she gaed tae the kirk.
Ye're a man amang geese when the gander's awa.
Ye're as fou o mischief as a egg's fou o maet.
Ye're a queer fish no tae hae fins.
Ye're as lang tuinin yer pipes as anither wad play a spring.
Ye're a sweet nut if you were well cracked.
Ye're as mim as a Mey puddock.