Volume 1 No. 5
We had a run with the Bay last week. Big day, big crowd but no wins - the buggers even cleaned up on the gate raffle - as the mayor of Hiroshima was heard to say ”wot da fwuck wozdat?” Similar sentiments came from the club seismologist Phillip who charted a reading on the old figometer before giving it a swift kick in the guts and retiring to gnash his teeth on the front bar.
20 firkin points. It was also pointed out that a couple of the gay shots definitely were. But hey me no complain (much) I was near tempted to grab the old mans Jap sword and join the Hari Kari Club.
Also not too happy with Freds “sister” Zoned Out Zara. If “she” drags out the old dollar sign in reference to Kadoo again a not insignificant number of Pie supporters will be lining up to kick her fair in the money box. Crap like this helped derail our 98-99 campaigns when that wingnut Doozer was “running the league”! We were told then to get a sense of humour. I have one which is censored, but the mouth piece of the Budget is allowed to get away with shit like this.
The Big House celebrated his 200 but without a win. However the mug shot in the Watch made the boy happy. More so with the “Snot” cut from his shoulders. Jessie McPhail got taken out in friendly fire by Auldey and becoming heavily concussed just before the A Grade game. Medico Lubola had him lying down on the trainer’s bench along with a mop to clean up the carrots. This gave Brent Redden a chance to play his first A Grade game.
Team Manager Crouch had a big job on consoling old Slogger, keeping Lubola “lit up” and guiding Fig (as far away as possible from the bench area). The old worry wart telling Crouchy that it was alright and kept in this mind frame even after the game went arse up.
The Big Cock (is that allowed) tail night ended with a re-enactment of the Gunfight at the OK Corral livening the old joint up after the Bahama Mamas kicked in. A few of the guns were still smoking well into the week. Slogger, the Henry Kissinger of the club gave a rousing speech on hormones, bums and ewe girls, which got everyone’s attention before the blue light taxi rocked up to take a couple of residents home. Old mate Gribbsy, now a Mount resident, headed off in the Maxi Taxi tipping the (not Indian) driver with a $100 spew. Arriving in Volcano City the ledge was non compus mentis forgetting where he lived!
Apparently Rosanna was good – unlike her 3 week old bowl of snags, veg and gravy that the unknowing Zac found in the house of horrors fridge. The boy cleaned up the science experiment complimenting Rosanna on her chinese food. Everybody was green with envy (or something). Zac with his guts turning over, the coach and scnitzel thought it was a good idea to put Zac in Chrissys rainwater tank (minus the rain) and roll him up the road a K or 5. Zac thought he was “cruising” but the 4 pack he took with him couldn’t handle the G Forces.
To top his day off Zac was treated to a Mohawk and the newly instated Hilton Hotel Chief Chef (true) has to now wack on a chef hat to hide his nut or Jenny will set her Hilton Hotel lap dogs on him. Matty Gray has spent up on a king sized bed and spent a bit of time fluffing a few feathers after his mutt (still untrained) pissed on it nearly turning it into a waterbed. Woof woof!
A couple of changes to the footy trip team to Cairns with Mister B Jaw staying at home for his mums 70th (good boy) and the old pirate Thorny going elsewhere to get his barnacles cleaned off. Coming into the side is Benny Effin Who, our local deforestation expert, providing he has enough dosh left after buying his new chainsaw. He has already packed the moth suit.
Last Modified on 01/02/2011 14:25