Reminds me of the old joke:
An old man walks into a pub in Scotland, his feet shuffling, his back bent. He drags himself onto a stool and orders a beer.
Placing the full glass in front of him, the bartender inquires upon his sad face.
The man answers with a smoky and trembling voice and a Scottish accent:
Ah, tell ya man! This pub, this very pub we're just sitting in. I built it, with me own hands! But do they call me the Pubmaker? Naa!
See the wall over there, that protects our town? I built it, with me own hands! But do they call me the Wallmaker? Naa!
And the bridge, you know, that crosses our river, I built it, with me own hands! But do they call me the Bridgemaker? Naa!
But I tell ya, man! ONE GOAT! ONE GOAT!
