I don't know if I can convey a truly pommie experience to you kiwis,who will find this weather perfectly normal but I'm gona give it a go.
Yesterday I took a break from polishing fatbob to have a ciggy and chew the fat with the bride. So I'm stood outside in me y fronts,flip flops er jandals,looking through the palm tree things,down the lush green valley and out to sea.The suns beating down on me bald heed and I said to the bride, "how wierd is this, its nearly december, me head looks like a big ugly red tomato and I'm hot man".The bride says" you aint that hot chook and I aint fooled by them polishing cloths stuffed down your y-fronts either". Ignoring the cheeky mare,I went on to discuss all the boys back home wearing a couple of fleeces each, getting the bikes ready for winter storage
, you know full tank o gas,new oil,wd40 everywhere and not forgettin the rocksalt on the roads(do you have that here?) you can stand and watch your bike rot infront of your own peepers
.I look back at fatbobby nearly ready to go and we're chuckling to ourselves how lucky we are to be here,then,oh my god,then.
A truck load of father christmas's comes trundlin up our street
tuggin on there instruments playin xmas carols.In d fuggin sun, in d daylight past the palm trees and the ocean blue,sweatin there cobs off.you gota remember this is through pommie eyes. It's just fuggin sureal,it must be like santa commin to visit in june for you guys. Me and the bride are pissin ourselves
. And some poor little girl struggles up our drive with a coin box to be confronted by two histerical pomms and I'm patting down me y-fronts lookin for coins with tears in me eyes.This poor kid looks mortified and the li'll darling is trying to give us her little intro ,I represent etc.The bride gives her a couple o bucks appologises and the kid takes off like a scalded cat. sorry gota go I can't see to write any more,attack o the giggles. bless
![]()
Bookmarks