Memories of Merimbula, NSW 2548.

Many people think Merimbula is a lovely little surfing town
Set on the golden New South Welsh coast but they are as thick
As an aborigine's bushy eyebrows if that's their opinion.
Honestly, let me now tell you of a truly horrid occurrence
Which took place during the annual Merimbula Shark Fishing Festival
When I was passing through the charming town on my pet 'roo, Derek,
(a marvellous beast whom I had trained to observe traffic lights
whilst carrying me and my extended family to and from barbies
on the beach or in the vicinity of the famed Black Stump of folklore.

Dear Derek was fully laden with me and a couple of drunken sheilahs,
(both of whom I was deeply and madly in love with especially
when they were halfway through a good old Ozzie style blowjob,
the sort which makes you scream the dunny down with excitement)
When we accidentally blundered into a cockatoo-judging competition
Organised by the local ANZACS (one-legged Gallipoli veterans branch),
Whereat one of my lovely sheilahs (by name: Brendaline) fell off Derek
And squashed the champion cockatoo, flattening it with her flabby butts,
Thus occasioning the poor bird's disqualification from the finals.
The cocky's owner, a retired croc and shark hunter by name of Bruce McScorpion,
Was not well pleased and rushed into his smelly fibro home
To grab a weapon, which sadly for all concerned
Turned out to be his old woman's abortionist knitting needles.

With a dreadful yell, the old bogan spiked Brendaline in both eyes
(an incredibly accurate double-hander, since he was as drunk as a dingo)
And the dear girl passed over to a better life toute de suite.
I tried to protest and offered to buy Brucie a tube or two
To compensate him for the dead cocky but the arsehole just yelled insults:
"I can tell you're not a Merimbulite", he roared, "You bastard,
You're a bloody stuck-up foreigner from Victoria, I can tell
By the cut of your strides and the registration marks on your roo's arse".
I could see that the matey atmos of the Shark and Cockatoo Festival
Was in danger of being marginally marred so I tried to steer Derek out of town
But it was to no avail as the occupants of the town's pub, 'The Old Fat Jew',
Had poured into the street, schooners of Dirty Red in their gnarled paws,
And they dragged off Derek and my sheilah to roast them on the barbie.
Jesus, I was relieved to find a Mitsubishi Ute in a side street
With its keys in situ, or else I would never have lived to see another day,
Strewth, mate, as God's my witness, she'll be all right, d'ya know her?