G'Day Possums

G'Day mate! Thanks for dropping in. Strewth, that was a bonzer weekend and no mistake! I must have got a bit stonkered as it's taken me a while to write this. Me and the missus were invited to a rip snorter of a party a few weekends back – the nuptials of young whippersnapper Simon and his new Sheila, Jo. Or his new Joey, Sheila - something like that. It was held in a big old shack in one of our older colonial outposts, quite a trek into the outback in fact. Crackin. On arrival we hit the obligatory bar, where the obligatory pom was serving red plonk from dinky little bottles in even dinkier glasses. Serves me right for not ordering the amber nectar I suppose. At least that came in a proper tinnie. Then it was time for the formal stuff. Pretty little sheila played the didgeridoo, elder Sis' read out some Abo poetry, then father of the bride sang Waltzing Matilda - A Capella no less. No messin with these guys. "And now you may kiss the bride" says the preacherman - but Simon wouldn't let any of us horny guys get a look in. Play Fair mate!

It had been raining cats and dogs all day, but the sun came out for the photos. How we laughed as the bossman barked his orders while his pretty little sheila assistant took the actual pictures. I bet he gets the cheque though. Evening tucker was good - a pound and a half of prime Aussie beef, washed down with copious quantities of red falling over liquid. Not a vegemite sanger in sight, but you can't have everything eh possums? I also found one of these little boomerangs. I tried chucking it away but, well you know. Her indoors got a little spoon, but it got a bit sticky stirring the coffee. After the tucker, we hit the dance floor and I showed the rest of them how dancing is done in these parts. Then it was time to bail out and hit the road back to the digs. Well, hooroo cobbers. Time to throw another yabbie on the barbie…..