Happy Little Vegemites

G'day cobbers , how are ya? Well, it's been a ridgy-didge little ripper of a trip so far. We're stoked to have made it to Oz without Jools cracking the shits and knocking four shades of blue outa me. We've been busy as a one-legged man at an arse-kicking contest but she'll be right - we're on a good wicket.

So, the plan is to roll out our swags in W.A with the sandgropers for a month, do some hard yakka then hit the bitumen out into the back o' Bourke for a spot of fossicking. Then shoot through for Chrissie in Brissie with the rellies, sink a few schooners and sit about like a pair of lazy bludgers - perhaps spend an arvo or two watching the bodgy, jumped-up, piss-weak Poms getting tonked for six. Fair dinkum mate. Maybe bring in the new year with the banana benders, then join the Mexicans for Oz Day with lamingtons, pavlovas, snags and prawns (on the barbie) all round. We'll be flat out like a lizard drinking and hope to meet the croweaters for a butchers or two. No worries.

Hopefully the weather will be corking and we can don the sunnies, thongs, togs and budgie-smugglers and get out in the surf with the other shark biscuits. Holey dooley.

You may think I've a few roos loose in the top paddock but fair-go, I'm not one to come the raw prawn. Call me a flamin' galah if you wish.

Well, bloody oath, I've had a fair crak of the whip - all this gasbagging, I'm dry as a dead dingo's donger. Time to hit the bottle-o to pick up a carton of stubbies and get a gutful of piss. Strewth, after a few coldies (and I'm no two-pot screamer) I'll be as much use as tits on a bull. She'll be apples. Strewth.....