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Buckshot Bear

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Understood all of that except snags.

 

otto has outdone himself. He deleted my last entire sentence.

 

WHAT THE HELL ARE SNAGS?

Edited by Alpo
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11 hours ago, Alpo said:

On the map, just above the KIN in frickin, it says backpacker murders. That appears to be in the North. Or maybe not, since Oz is upside down. Maybe down there North is on the bottom of a map and South is on the top?

Backpacker murders have happened all over Australia with particularly infamous ones in the North and in NSW as well as that guy down south.

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Bruce and Sheila were spending the day at Taronga Zoo.

Sheila was wearing a loose fitting, pink dress, sleeveless with straps. He was wearing his usual jeans and VB singlet.

As they walked through the ape exhibit, they passed a large, silverback gorilla. Noticing the wife, the gorilla went crazy.

He jumped on the bars, and holding on with one hand and two feet he grunted and pounded his chest with his free hand.

He was obviously excited at Sheila in the pink dress. Bruce noticed the excitement,and thought this was funny.

Bruce suggested that his missus tease the poor fellow some more by puckering her lips and wiggling her bottom. She played along and the gorilla got even more excited, making noises that would wake the dead. Then Bruce suggested that she let one of her straps fall to show a little more skin. She did... and the gorilla was about to tear the bars down.

"Now..... show your thighs and fan your dress at him," he said. This drove the gorilla absolutely crazy and he started doing flips.

Then Bruce grabbed his missus, ripped open the door to the cage, flung her in with the gorilla and slammed the cage door shut. "Now. Tell him you have a headache!"

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THINGS THAT ARE DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK:

1. Innovative
2. Preliminary
3. Proliferation
4. Cinnamon

THINGS THAT ARE VERY DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK

1. Specificity
2. Anti-constitutionalistically
3. Passive-aggressive disorder
4. Transubstantiate

5. Phenomina

THINGS THAT ARE DOWNRIGHT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:

1. No thanks, I'm married.
2. Nope, no more booze for me!
3. Sorry, but you're not really my type.
4. A pizza? No thanks, I'm not hungry.
5. Good evening, officer. Isn't it lovely out tonight?
6. Oh, I couldn't! No one wants to hear me sing karaoke.
7. I'm not interested in fighting you.
8. Thank you, but I won't make any attempt to dance, I have no coordination. I'd hate to look like a fool!
9. Where is the nearest bathroom? I refuse to pee in this parking lot or on the side of the road.
10. I must be going home now, as I have to work in the morning.

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Three Aussie guys, Shane, Ricky and Jeff, were working on a high-rise building project in Wagga Wagga.  Unfortunately, Shane falls off the scaffolding and is killed instantly. As the ambulance takes the body away, Ricky says, 'Someone should go and tell his wife.' Jeff says, 'OK, I'm pretty good at that sensitive stuff, I'll do it.' Two hours later, he comes back carrying a case of beer. Ricky says, 'Where did you get that, Jeff?' 'Shane's wife gave it to me.' Ricky continues, 'That's unbelievable, you told the lady her husband was dead and she gave you the beer?' 'Well not exactly,' Jeff said. 'When she answered the door, I said to her, "You must be Shane's widow".' She said, 'No, I'm not a widow.' And I said, 'I'll bet you a case of beer you are.'

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An old bloke in Darwin lived alone and he wanted to plant a vegie garden.
But it was very difficult work, as the ground in Darwin is mostly rock and red clay. His only son, Robbo, who could help him, was in Berrimah prison again for drink driving and dope smoking.
The old bloke wrote a letter to his son and mentioned his problem.
Dear Robbo, I am feeling pretty sad, because it looks like I won't be able to plant my vegie garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. I know if you were it would be easier. I know you would be happy to dig the plot for me, like in the old days.
A coupla days later he received a letter from his son.
Dear dad, what ever you do, don't dig up that bloody garden. That's where the bodies are buried.
Early the next morning, the cops arrived in force and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologised to the old bloke and left.
That same day the old bloke received another letter from his son.
Dear dad, go ahead and plant the vegies now. This was the best I could do under the circumstances.

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5 minutes ago, Trailrider #896 said:

I know the voice of that school teacher... He calls me quite often telling me there is a problem with my computer; or from the credit card company (the card of which I don't own), and many more!

 

LOL he calls me as well......right around dinner time. But I didn't fall for this one @Trailrider #896

 

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... young Lady (13 or 14) is visiting, her friends family are going out for pizza, all are excited, young Lady rings home to see if it's OK. ....... lamb roast ....   ;)

 

 

 

 ..... there were some trouble  about kids lying/telling fibs ......   :o

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29 minutes ago, Wallaby Jack, SASS #44062 said:

... young Lady (13 or 14) is visiting, her friends family are going out for pizza, all are excited, young Lady rings home to see if it's OK. ....... lamb roast ....   ;)

 

 

 

 ..... there were some trouble  about kids lying/telling fibs ......   :o

 

No....Hope I'm not getting early onset Alzheimer's .....least I'll be able to re-watch a lot of movies again.

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                             The Plastic Chair

                                               or  

Entrapment or, The Terryifying but Tragically True Tale Of Trevor’s Trapped Testicle

 

Lyrics

Most people have got a few plastic stacker chairs at their place. You know, the plastic ones that have the little splits in the seat. What you probably don’t realise is that when you sit on them, those splits open up, cos that’s happenin underneath ya bum and you don’t see, and when you stand up they close up again.

But they can be a bit tricky those chairs. And I’ve written this poem about a person who got into a bit of strife with a plastic stacker chair and I’ve called the poem ‘Entrapment’. And the expanded title is ‘The Terrifying But Tragically True Tale Of Trevor’s Trapped Testicle’.

Trevor’s on a mission, off to Consumer Affairs,
Trying to get a total ban on plastic stacker chairs.
He reckons that they’re dangerous, a serious threat to life.
Cos it was through a plastic chair that he got into strife.

It was at the Tamworth Festival, a concert in the park,
Trev and Ken were there with gear to last them until dark.
An esky full of coldies, Trev was without a care,
Stubbies, thongs and T-shirt, on his plastic stacker chair.

But as he stretched his legs out, his left crown jewel rolled free,
And dropped straight through the chair seat, a real catastrophe.
But Trevor remained unaware of his dire situation,
Until they gave the singer a big standing ovation.

As Trevor came up to his feet he gave a fearsome yell,
Cos tethered to his testicle, the chair came up as well.
He grabbed the chair with both hands as they crashed back to the ground,
But the errant family jewel was firmly stuck, he quickly found.

He tried to extract the enclosed nut, and then he began to curse,
Cos nothing he did seemed to work, it only made things worse.
Trev’s mate Ken was laughing, fit to go right off his brain,
Ken’s tears were from laughter but Trevor’s were from pain.

Ken produced a Stanley knife, and Trevor’s mouth went dry,
He said, “I’ll only cut the plaso chair,” but Trevor wouldn’t let him try.
Well, Ken climbed under and tried to poke things through,
It’s times like this you find out what ya mates will really do.

They pulled and poked and prodded, but all efforts were in vain,
Trevor’s nut was red and raw, and giving heaps of pain.
All this unwanted attention was no good you realise,
Trevor’s tortured testicle swelled up to twice it’s size.

Well, the word spread quickly through the park about the situation,
And people tried to get a glimpse of Trevor’s threatened castration.
Mums and Dads and kids and dogs, of every shape and age,
Trev got more attention then the singer on the stage.

Little kids were pointing, dogs were trying to have a smell,
and Trevor, trying to cover up, said, “Go to bloody hell*!”
“Poor bloke needs an icepack,” was the only good advice,
They sat Trev over his esky with his agate in the ice.

Someone called an ambulance, and they drove through the crowd,
Trev was drinking Bundy Rum and swearing very loud.
When they both stopped laughing, they carted Trev away,
To the hospital where he became the highlight of the day.

But Trevor’s near recovered, with both crown jewels in place,
Don’t offer him a plastic chair if you value your face.
But next year at the carnival, Trevor will be there,
Wearing tight undies, long trousers, on his canvas fold-out chair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited by Wallaby Jack, SASS #44062
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