But first, let me tell yea about Gone fishing, South Australia style.
So after much shenanigans in Jervis bay, with my couchsurfers.
Highlights included, fishing + drinking cider, I remember my friend Janet’s facebook update referring to a hangover from drinking ‘Snake bite’, to which my hosts Paula and Simon say, ‘We can make that’ ad we did, and we didn’t stop.
The buggy Simon telling me to hitch hike up on the road, ‘There’s heaps of Victorian cunts’, I tried, I failed, so much for that, I got the bus in the end, at least I tried anyways.
I brought them into a St Vincent de Paul shop and told Simon to get a Golf buggy frame, no more carrying beers to the port, fishing, made easy.
So I’m back in Melbourne, I call into Bev and Micks in the Vic markets, there’s and ould fella, getting pissed a larakin, a term some locals out in the bush might use.
All the boys are winding him up, he’s being a nuisance, no other bar would serve this guy, but he’s A OK there.
The boys pull his pants down a few times, everyone is having a laugh, then the old guy is out having a smoke on the street and here’s what happens.
He’s looking in the door and he spots a grumpy chick.
I’m about to have a sip of beer
Him (looking at the El Grumpy chick): Awwwww, put a smile on yer dial
Him: Look at me, last night I slept in the parrrk and a hooker ripped me off (sticking his head in the door)
I turn to the person next to me and I say ‘Did he say hooker’, the guy next to me says ‘Yep’
Me: That’s a classic and it was, a classic moment.
I remember telling people I would remember that moment, until the day I die, and I’m not dead yet, and so far that’s true.