JOHN’S DOWN UNDER ToT CHALLENGE

I Don’t Follow Instructions

Because I’m too bloody old to do as I’m told!

I am sick of writing about me — me — me, although it’s probably the only thing I know anything about.

My reluctance to spruik on about Raine Lore means I either don’t do this ToT challenge or, tah dah — I do it my way! (With apologies to any reader upside of down under).

John Hansen’s, charming ToT choices appear in bold throughout the following conversation.

One Saturday morning down at the billabong —

“Whatcha reckon, Wal? Do you prefer Kangaroos or Koalas?”

“That’s a silly bloody question, Bill. I reckon roos are a blinkin’ nuisance. They wreck me fences, eat me crops and drop shit all over me patio. Drives the missus to drink.”

“Cull ’em, then!” Bill responded.

“Naw, the missus would kill me if I did that!”

“I thought they drove her to drink.” Bill scratched his head.

“She likes a tipple. What can I say?” grinned Wal.

“Bundaberg Rum or Victoria Bitter Beer?”

“Oh, I reckon she’d go a coldie most times, on the patio, but when we go to the local, she bungs it on with a Bundy Rum.”

“Showing off, then?” surmised Bill.

“Yeah. Just like she did at Straya Zoo. Wanted to cuddle all the bloody koalas. I’m not keen on the stupid things. All they do is growl at night and sleep durin’ the day. Load of useless fur balls if ya ask me — don’ know why they were ever invented. Okay for a tourist attraction, I guess.” Wal scratched at the hair growing just inside his earhole.

“Gum Tree or Wattle?” Bill slickly slipped in another question.

“I can’t go out and exterminate all the effin’ koalas, so I guess we hafta keep the eucalypts for them and what about shade for the roos? Keep ’em both, I say.”

Wal stuck a finger further into his ear. “You gotta match on ya, mate? I need to investigate what’s goin’ on in me lug,” he muttered.

“Christ, you’re not gonna try and melt your ear wax, are you?” asked Bill, suddenly alarmed.

“Nope, just want a diggin’ tool!”

Bill decided to ignore his bogan mate. “Kangaroos, then?” he insisted, returning to the original subject.

“Guess so, mate — never gonna get rid of ’em anyway and koalas are on the goin’ down the plughole list. Might as well go with what’s available.

“Beach or Bush or Outback?” enquired Bill, anxious to dispose of the ToT questions. He knew his wife, Jan, was pouring a mid-morning coldie — she’d start with or without him!

“What’s with all these stupid, effin’ questions? I dun know what’s got into you, Bill. Fair dinkum, you’re startin’ to give me the irrits.”

“Yeah, well your ear-diggin’ is makin’ me agro. Just answer the bloody question. Beach or Bush or Outback?”

“Might as well ask me, Uluru or Daintree Rain Forest?” grumbled Wal. “Far as I can see, we need all of it to keep an eco… eco…”

“An ecological balance?” Bill suggested.

Wal began scratching in the dust with his bare toes. “I think you’re having a lend of me. All these daft questions, and now you hafta help out with the answers. Ya think I’m a wanker, don’t ya?”

“I will if you rupture your eardrum with that bloody stick you just shoved in your ear,” admonished Bill.

“Yeah, well,” said Wal, attempting to change the subject, “where we gonna take the sheilas for lunch? Macca’s or Hungry Jacks?”

“Good question, mate. Both places sell stupid bloody French Fries. Much rather have Hot Chips and a Meat Pie. I could go A Sausage Roll as well. I’m getting hungry right now!” Bill emphasised his hunger by rubbing a grubby, unmanicured hand over his protruding, blue-singlet-clad belly.

“Know what?” exclaimed Wal, looking very pleased with himself. “I reckon we’ve solved that question, no wukkas! We can get all the good tucker at the bakery then take the sheilas to the harbour. They’ll like taking pictures of the Opera House or the Sydney Harbour Bridge.”

“Reckon my old girl will drive us nuts raving on about the magnificent sails on the opera house.” Bill attempted a posh face and extended his little finger. “Me, I’d rather look at the bridge. Lots of engineerin’ went into that little mother,” he declared, his face becoming animated.

“Yeah, you’re right, Bill,” agreed Wal, happy now that he didn’t feel as useless as tits on a bull.

“Know what else is good?” continued Wal, afraid he was going to lose his advantage. “Going to the bakery means we don’t have to put up with that Pickled Onions or Gherkins shit. Yuppy food, I call it!”

“Don’t mind me a pickled onion,” mumbled Bill, aware he was stepping on Wal’s feeling of superiority.

Bill needn’t have concerned himself; Wal was still on a roll.

“There’s lotsa bonzer stuff at the bakery. I even fancy a Burger with Beetroot? Yes, coz you know what they say, “You can’t beat a root!” Wal guffawed loudly at his hackneyed joke.

Bill gave a weak smile, then added thoughtfully, “I just thought of something else I could try. The little woman is always on about Vegemite scrolls and Cream Cheese with salmon sangers.”

“You won’t get cream cheese and salmon sangers at the bakery, mate,” advised Wal. “I think yer old girl is bungin’ it on a bit.”

“Yer right, Wal,” agreed Bill but we could get a bit of dessert. Whatcha reckon? Scones or Pikelets? Maybe Lamingtons or Pavlova? Maybe we could get the lot and make a proper picnic for the sheilas.”

“For sure!” Wal grinned. “They’d be choc a bloc after that little lot — reckon that’d give us brownie points for a month.”

“Your dirty mind is back on roots again, isn’t it, ya grub?” Bill punched Wal on the arm, playfully.

“I think we’re goin’ a bit Over the Top for a couple of Down Under Blokes,” grumbled Wal.

“You wouldn’t be complainin’ if you were tryin’ to impress Cate Blanchett or Nicole Kidman, would ya?” suggested Bill. “Might be good to spoil our birds once in a while; treat them like a couple of posh tarts.”

Deep in thought, Wal transferred his ear stick to the corner of his mouth. “You get too weak with the ol’ lady and you’ll find ‘er wantin’ to trade up for somethin’ like Hugh Jackman or Chris Hemsworth.”

“Jackman, maybe,” mused Bill. “Don’t think my old lady would go for any of those Hemsworth blokes. They can’t sing, or anything, can they?”

“Guarantee they can’t de-knacker a calf, either,” said Wal, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, nah, reckon our sheilas know when they’ve got a good thing goin’. Nuthin’ more attractive than a bloke that’s no stranger to hard yakka.”

The two mates walked slowly back towards Bill’s farmhouse; Wal still moving the ear stick around in the corner of his mouth.

“What’ll it be tonight after we treat the sheilas?” asked Wal. “Rugby League or Aussie Rules on the idiot box?”

“Not for me, mate,” replied Bill. “Goin’ all out with the other half tonight. It’s our tenth wedding anniversary. Got her a DVD for a pressie. At first, I couldn’t decide on Iggy Azalea or Delta Goodrem but I settled for Delta. She’s pretty grouse, I reckon.”

“If ya ask me, that’s like choosin’ between a Funnel Web Spider or a Blue-Ringed Octopus? I’ll stick to me footy,” mumbled Wal. “Might listen to a bit of Chad Morgan during the breaks, though.”

Wal pull the ear stick from his mouth and thoughtfully examined the yellow gunk clinging to the end. Shrugging, he casually flicked the implement into the nearest shrub.

“See ya after we get cleaned up, then,” Bill called.

“Yeah,” agreed Wal. “Guess we can take the girls to the bakery on the way to the harbour — save a bit of time; don’t wanna be late for the game.”

“Onya, ya dickhead,” called Bill affectionately.

“Right back at ya, ya galah,” replied Wal with a grin.

Can’t understand a word of this? Go here. Over 125 Australian Slang Terms & Phrases | Guide to Aussie Slang (nomadsworld.com)

John Hansen presents a ToT challenge with a distinctly Aussie flavour.

And then John responded to his own challenge. Duh!

Adrienne Beaumont responded to John’s challenge which makes a lot more sense than responding to your own. Right? Right!