A Scottish old timer in Scotland, in a bar, talking to a young man.

Old Man:

Lad, look out there to the field. Do ya see that fence? Look how well its built. I built that fence stone by stone with me own two hands, piled it for months. But do they call me McGregor-the-Fence-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 labor, for eight days. But do they call me McGregor-the-Bar-builder?

Nooo…

Then the old man points out the window.

Eh, Laddy, 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 McGregor-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 . . .