Mon Apr 07, 2008 1:59 pm
I thought I might try to fit as many stereotypically cryptic Aussie slang terminologies as I could think of into one piece of writing
Strewth! G'day mate. Don't come the raw prawn with me, bugalugs! I was just having a squiz at this bang on, fair dinkum, ridgy didge, brand spanker, you beaut ute. It was a goer! Nothing cactus about this shitbox. Needed someone to take a geez at it but didn't want a bodge job done. Took her for a spin and it handled like a dog on lino. Tried to tee up a dodgy, back hander rego check but this Joe Blake couldn't organise a root in a Polly Waffle. Should have just chucked him a Dunlop cheque. I ended up having a yarn with this deadset derro though who I hadn't seen in donkeys. He was a bit too figjam for my liking so I pretty much kicked him up his freckle and told him to go to buggery. This was all taking place out at a rissole carpark pretty much out the back of Bourke, somewhere beyond the black stump. Wasn't a cooee from where I was heading so I had to shoot the crow and ended up out the back blocks where old mate was apparently having a chunder. I just headed along to spark a few darts down the old razzle dazzle Sunday arvo. You know maybe have a few durries and a sanger with fried bum nuts and pig, you know googs and dead horse. Actually, I was so hungry I could eat a horse and chase the jockey at this point! Even was gonna have a go at the one armed bandits. Maybe even a few schooies (none of that middy shit) of Vitamin VB cause I was as dry as a dead dingo's donger. Ah, drinking with the flies! You know Pat Malone sitting like a shag on a rock. Blimey, you know I reckon it's the reason most pissheads have got the awning over the toy shop. Anyhow, howzat!? I was as full as fairy's phone book. Then, strike a light! This same drongo came a gutsa and had a technicolour yawn all down the arse end of my new ute. Must have been the robbers and thugs, and needless to say despite all the kafuffle I even think he cut the dog in half. Lucky he missed the slab in the back or I would have decked this gronk in the Gregory Peck. What a grot! He was crook as Rookwood. I went berko, pretty much did my block. Told him, "Ya goose! May ya Chooks turn into emus and kick ya shithouse down!". I don't think I've ever been that knotted, but then it was all pretty much right as rain. Mickey Mouse the lot of it. He must of had kangaroos loose in the top paddock. A few snags short of a barbie anyway. Mad as a cut snake!
Then all was not lost just before knockoff I just had a bit of a bo-peep at this glamour. This grouse sheila had me Cadbury! Never a bush pig if I've had a butchers at one. All done up with lippie, scrubbed up well, barely a scrubber though. Probably one of those birds who got the map of Tassie removed and all. Quite a cunning stunt if I ever got the leg over. Bloody oath I wouldn't mind crackin onto that, reckon she'd bang like a dunny door in a thunder storm!
Ken oath, so I chucked a yewie and went down past the servo on me smoko for a Chiko and Solo for Ocker Davo who was on compo, good-o!. He was waiting down the bowlo with Simo who had to get his missus who is up the spout some lolly waters and Winnie Blues at the bottlo. You know how preggers woozas can chuck wobblies. He grabbed some long necks, you know tallies for himself as well to dull the whinging when he got back to the club. He'd been on Kevin Rudd's surf team for yonks. In fact I don't know if this bludger had ever been off the rock n' roll. He's on a pretty good wicket. This one wouldn't shout in a shark attack. You know the type who'd give you the rough end of the pineapple. As slow as wet week to boot
Anyway bonza chinwagging with ya but I gotta shoot through. I'm gonna choof off and hit the frog and toad. Off like a bride's nightie. Off like a bucket of prawns even! Tah for that. Hoo roo, cobba! I'm knackered anyway
"It's better to die upon your feet than to live upon your knees!" - Emiliano Zapata Salazar (8 August, 1879 – 10 April, 1919)