A dog’s tail …

by Paul Campbell

Wen it’s footy, stakes an’ bear

“Well, Dog, it doesn’t get much betta than this, I reckin.”

Gidday readas – fer once I gotta agree wiv the Boss. There we wear sittin’ on the old couch ina woolshed wiv the wide screen TV on wiv the footy. Yep, itsa Werld Cup happenin’ an’ this time we didint have ter stay up until tha wee small hours ter wotch the Orl Blacks do there stuff. This time they was playin’ that Namibia team, wot supposed ter come from a little place corled Souf West Africa, but Boss reckins there was a few big Sprinbok types ina team, cos Souf Africa is just nek ter Namibia ona map he showed me. Well anyway, we was pritty much ona edge of tha couch to start wiv, cos them Namibs scored first, ana Blacks looked a big disorginised. So it wasn’t until half an hour that Boss relaxed (Hey, readas, I never had any douts that the AB’s wood come right) and he cracked open a bear wile his mate Pluma and his missus were crankin’ uppa barbie ona woolshed steps, wiv Sharene, Boss’a gerlfrend poring sum whines. Well, then we orl got wurried ‘cos the score was 10-9 – wot’s goin on? Well, the AB’s stepped up a notch an’ the trys started comin’ an’ off the barbie comes juicy stake an’ sausigis, an’ Bos had nuther beer and tha’s wen he sed “it diesn’t get much betta.”

Sharlene agreed wiv Boss, but sed we was lucky to be watchin footy an’ chompin stake wen the rest ofa werld was ina uproar.

I couldn’t here any roarin’ ‘cept ona TV and Boss yellin ever time the AB’s scored, or wen the ref kicked us off fer suspected high takils.

So Sharlene sed “lookit all the trubble ina werld. A liar ana crook running ‘Merica, a blimmin con-man runnin’ Britin, Hong Kong outa control, an’ floods an’ storms an global warmin…” So then Boss poured her another whine an’ give her a pat ona knee. “There, deah,” he sed, – lookit that TJ Perinara = miricle try. Then he startid singin ”always look ona brite side of life.” Lookit deah”, he sed then “we got them Italiens to play nek. Then them quarter finals, ana semis, ana final.”

“Yep”, said his mate Pluma,” we got enuff worries. Blimmin govinment in Wullington making life bluddy difficult fer us famers, blimmin carbon rules an’ water rules.

Evin the distict counsil reckins we gonna run short of water here ina Kaipra, wen it’s bin raining fer weeks. Too much gloom an’ doom. Lets injoy the footy, we got stake ina freezer, beer in wooshed fridge and games ter watch.”

He’s got the write idea I reckin readas. Specially tha bit about stake and sausigis. From wear I’m sitting — it dosint get much betta either.

See ya. Billy