дальнейший брайсон

[gleb]

At length, I found my way over the river and back into the gleaming centre. I had a look at George Square, which is to my mind the handsomest in Britain, and then trudged uphill to Sauchiehall Street, where I remembered my favourite Glasgow joke. (Also my only Glasgow joke.) It's not a very good one, but I like it. A policeman collars a thief at the corner of Sauchiehall and Dalhousie, then drags him by the hair for a hundred yards to Rose Street to book him.
'Oi, why'd ye do tha'?' asks the aggrieved culprit, rubbing his head.
'Because I can spell Rose Street, ye thieving cunt,' says the policeman.

Bill Bryson. Notes from a Small Island