Australian for beginers. lesson 1

by unclebruce 43 Replies latest jw friends

  • SheilaM
    SheilaM

    "Brace yourself Sheila!"

    (That's Australian foreplay, BTW.)

    Englishman.

    OH MYYYYYYYYYY

  • unclebruce
    unclebruce

    That's only rough ol' blokes Sheila - Englishman is twenty years with-out a date.

    post modern new age caveman unc.

    unclebruce: "g'day sheila, like a root?"

    Sheila: "NO!"

    unclebruce: "well, you mind lay'n down while I have one?" ...................

  • blackout
    blackout

    ROFLMAO Keep it up Unc I wanna make sure me languige is up ta scratch.

  • unclebruce
    unclebruce

    oops, I forgot something important.

    In Australia we still use the strict dictionary definition of the word bastard. That is, "a child unclaimed by a man" (as in the saying "lonely as a bastard on fathers day")

    unclebruce

    ===

    for Englishman: (a famous Australian poem from rougher times in Old Sydney Town :)

    The Bastard from the Bush:

    As night was falling slowly,

    On city, town and bush,

    From a slum in Simon's alley,

    Came the Captain of the Push,

    And his Whistles, loud and piercing,

    Woke the echoes of the Rocks,

    And a dozen ghouls came slouching

    Round the corners of the blocks.

    Then the Captain jerked a finger,

    At a stranger at the kerb,

    Whom he qualified politely

    With an adjective and verb.

    Then he made an introduction:

    "Here's a covey from the bush;

    F--- me blind, he wants to join us,

    Be a member of the Push!"

    "Why F--- me dead, I'm Foreskin Fred,

    The bastard from the bush!

    I've been in every two-up school

    From Darwin to the Loo;

    I've ridden colts and brumbies;

    What more can a bugger do?"

    "Are you game to break a window?"

    Said the Captain of the Push.

    "I'd knock a f---ing house down!"

    Said the Bastard from the Bush.

    "would you dong a bloody copper

    if you caught the c--- alone?

    would you stouch a swell or Pommie,

    Split his garret with a stone?

    Would you have a moll to keep you;

    Would you swear of work for good?"

    Said the Bastard:

    "My colonial silver-mounted oath i would!"

    "Would you care to have a gasper?"

    Said the Captain of the Push.

    "I'll take the bloody packet!"

    Said the Bastard from the Bush.

    Then the Pushies all topok council,

    Saying, "F--- me, but he's game!

    Let's make him our star basher;

    He'll live up to his name."

    So they took him to their hideout,

    That Bastard from the Bush,

    And granted him all privileges

    Appertaining to the Push.

    But soon they learned his little ways

    Were more than they could stand,

    And finally their Captain

    Addressed the members of his band.

    "Now listen here, you buggers,

    We've caught a F---ing Tartar.

    At every kind of bludging,

    That Bastard is a starter.

    At poker and at two-up

    He shook our f---ing rolls;

    He swipes our f---ing likker

    And he robs our bloody molls!"

    So down in Simon's Alley,

    All the members of the Push,

    Laid a dark and dirty ambush

    For that Bastard from the Bush.

    But against the wall of Ozzies pub

    The Bastard made a stand,

    A nasty grin upon his dial;

    A bike-chain in each hand.

    They sprang upon him in a bunch,

    But one by one they fell,

    With crack of bone, unearthly groan,

    And agonising yell,

    Till the sorely battered Captain,

    Spitting teeth and gouts of blood,

    Held an ear all torn and bleeding

    In a hand bedaubed with mud.

    "You low polluted Bastard!"

    Snarled the Captain of the Push,

    "Get back to where your sort belongs

    ---That's somewhere in the Bush.

    And I hope heaps of misfortunes

    Soon tumble down on you;

    May some lousy harlot dose you

    Till your bollocks turn sky-blue!"

    "May the itching piles torment you;

    May corns grow on your feet!

    May crabs as big as spiders

    Attack your balls a treat!

    And when you're down and outed,

    To a hopeless bloody wreck,

    May you slip back through your arse-hole

    And break your f---ing neck!

    Henry Lawson. 1893

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