Ron Swanson: [aside to camera] All my life I've avoided Europe and its multitudes of terribleness. But it turns out, much to my surprise, there is actually one place in Europe that is worth seeing: these tiny islands off the coast of Scotland, where God's chosen elixirs are distilled, barreled, and prepared for consumption. This is worth the trip. "Dear Ron, you have now reached the cliffsides overlooking the islands. As you sit here and gaze upon the waters, please read out loud the poem by the great Scotsman Robert Burns. Love, Leslie."
"Oh, were my love yon lilac fair, with purple blossoms to the spring, and I, a bird to shelter there, when wearied on my little wing, how I would mourn when it was torn by autumn wild and winter rude, but I would sing on wanton wing, when youthful may its bloom renewed." I don't know what she thought I'd get out of that.