Thursday, Nov 22, 2007 at 08:12
'Twas Mulga Will, from
Peterborough, that caught the cycling craze;
He turned away the old GQ that served him many days;
He dressed himself in cycling clothes, resplendent to be seen;
He hurried off to town and bought a shining new machine;
And as he wheeled it through the door, with air of lordly pride,
The grinning
shop assistant said, "Excuse me, can you ride?"
"See here,
young man," said Mulga Will, "from Walgett to the sea,
From Conroy's Gap to Castlereagh, there's none can ride like me.
I'm good all round at everything as everybody knows,
Although I'm not the one to talk - I hate a man that blows.
But riding is my special gift, my chiefest, sole delight;
Just ask a wild duck can it swim, a wildcat can it fight.
There's nothing clothed in hair or hide, or built of flesh or steel,
There's nothing walks or jumps, or runs, on axle, hoof, or wheel,
But what I'll sit, while hide will hold and girths and straps are tight:
I'll ride this here two-wheeled concern right straight away at sight."
'Twas Mulga Will, from
Peterborough, that sought his own abode,
That perched above Dead Man's Creek, beside the mountain road.
He turned the cycle down the
hill and mounted for the fray,
But 'ere he'd gone a dozen yards it bolted clean away.
It left the track, and through the trees, just like a silver steak,
It whistled down the awful slope towards the Dead Man's Creek.
It shaved a stump by half an inch, it dodged a big white-box:
The very wallaroos in fright went scrambling up the rocks,
The wombats hiding in their caves dug deeper underground,
As Mulga Will, as white as chalk, sat tight to every bound.
It struck a stone and gave a spring that cleared a fallen tree,
It raced beside a precipice as close as close could be;
And then as Mulga Will let out one last despairing shriek
It made a leap of twenty feet into the Dead Man's Creek.
'Twas Mulga Will, from
Peterborough, that slowly swam ashore:
He said, "I've had some narrer shaves and lively rides before;
I've rode a wild bull round a yard to win a five-pound bet,
But this was the most awful ride that I've encountered yet.
I'll give that two-wheeled outlaw best; it's shaken all my nerve
To feel it whistle through the air and plunge and buck and swerve.
It's safe at rest in Dead Man's Creek, we'll leave it lying still;
Shank’s pony is good enough henceforth for Mulga Will."
apologies to Banjo Patterson
G'day Willem,
give the walking a go I reckon, you're not too far from the shops and it will do you good indeed. Just put an EO sticker on the back of your stubbies, you'll be right! Don't be too proud to buy a granny trolley either, they are very practical, and again, just whack an EO sticker on it....
he he....
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Follow Up By: Willem - Thursday, Nov 22, 2007 at 10:28
Thursday, Nov 22, 2007 at 10:28
Good one Jeremy...hahahahahaha
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Follow Up By: Mr Fawlty - Thursday, Nov 22, 2007 at 13:34
Thursday, Nov 22, 2007 at 13:34
Well done, a brilliant piece of work...
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Follow Up By: Member - 'Lucy' - Thursday, Nov 22, 2007 at 20:09
Thursday, Nov 22, 2007 at 20:09
Very clever - just sensational.
In my imaginative minds eye, I can see Mulga Will with a bottle of White Lightening in one hand and bottle of barbed wire in the other, swigging from same (alternatively) whilst purchasing a 'deadly treadly'.
Still ROFLMAO
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Follow Up By: Willem - Friday, Nov 23, 2007 at 06:23
Friday, Nov 23, 2007 at 06:23
Alas Lucy, all content of White Lightning and Barbed Wire Moonshine have been devoured. Have to wait 'till friends go overseas again....lol
Cheers
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