Warts in Matilda, warts in Matilda . . . .
No - perhaps better not.
I for one compliment you on your original, catclysmic and disgusting (I mean that in a nice way, possums) Down Under style of Bush poetry, Paul L.
No worries. Good on yer, blue. She'll be right.
Would you mind awfully returning our Ashes for a while, you wild Colonial boy otherwise I shall have no alternative but to release the ghost of Douglas Jardine amongst you.
PS. Did Ned Kelly really have a tin head or was that what passes for designer headgear in the Outback?
PPS. You ain't seen my boomerang over there have yer, mate. It won't come back whatever I do - just like the wife.
Toss another shrimp on the barbie, Bruce
Stick a few tins in the 'fridge
Sheila's sh*gging me best mate Shane
'Neath Sydney Harbour Bridge
Me boomerang's in orbit
The b*st*rd just won't come back
Kylie's ferreting through the bush
Trying to find a crack
In which to insert a reedy thing
And suck up some amber juice ****
So stick another shrimp on the barbie
And stop sh*gging that wallaby, Bruce.
**** That's Castlemaine XXXX, of course.
Many apologies. I don't do poetry but I'm OK at childish doggerel, schoolboy humour and gratuitous filth.
I've got it Rolf.
You're Helen of Troy, ain't ya.
Took me ages to work this out until I realised that the beard, glasses and three legs were just cunning red herrings - if you can imagine such a thing.
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