Don't come the raw prawn with me!
I yelled at him.
He was gobsmacked, so I
hightailed it out of there,
grinning like a shot fox.
Bloody galah, I mumbled to meself,
he doesn't half get up me freckle.
Still, I felt bad for coming across
as cross as a frog in a sock,
but fair dinkum I reckon
he had a couple of roos
loose in the top paddock.
I stumbled into home
only to find the missus
had dropped her trackie daks
and was flashing
a mappa Tassie.
Strewth, the old fella
thought he was a joey
and there was
his mother's pouch.
Sheilas act a little daft
if you don't
hide the snagger
on demand, but truth is
I could've done
with a sanger instead.
Honour bound, I got to
slinging me weight
in the right direction
like any good wombat,
then threw on
the ol' feed bag
and forgot
the stupid bastard
ever existed.
--
Andrew
http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
http://www.bam.com.au/andrew
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