The world needs more National Emblems who can stand bolt upright and give the universal signal for 'fuck off'. I found this rude roo on the weekend, God love the fuzzy little bastard, sitting in the yard of a dis-used gaol somewhere out in the docks of the boon. And yes, I gave it right back at him, but only after he'd given it to me several times over.
Stupid bloody thing that he is. I looked deep into his rough, black eyes and thought, "Hmmmm, I wonder if I drove another 300kms would I find a relative of his who'd tripped on a fence and was still juicy?"
Of course not. "Perhaps," I thought, "I'll lie down in this fine town and have a rest? Surely nothing bad could happen? After all they know how to deal with their errant Skippys."
You have to wonder though, are those holes in the ground where the undead has been trying to dig their way out, or is it someone trying to dig their way in?
Either way I don't think I really want to know. Bloody rabbits.
But I do have to ask, does anyone iron their undies anymore? And did they ever? C'mon, fess up. What was the preferred method of post-washing preperation for the under-crackers? Or do more and more people freeball these days?
Questions without answers.
Can life be better than that?
I think not.