A Welsh old timer, in a pub, talking to a young man.
Old Man:
"Boyo, look out there to the field. Do ya see that wall? Look how well it's built. I built that wall stone by stone with me own two hands, piled it for months. But do they call me Jones-the-Wall-Builder? Nooo.."
Then the old man gestured at the bar.
"Look here at the bar. Do ya see how smooth and just it is? I planed that surface down by me own achin' back. I carved that wood with me own hard labour, for eight days. But do they call me Jones-the-Bar-builder?
Nooo..."
Then the old man points out the window.
"Eh, Bach, look out to sea. Do ya see that pier that stretches out as far as the eye can see? I built that pier with the sweat off me back. I nailed it board by board. But do they call me Jones-the-Pier-Builder? Nooo... "
Then the old man looks around nervously, trying to make sure no one is paying attention.
"But ya fuck one sheep . . . "
