Before venturing down to Victor Harbor on Sunday night, we spent the afternoon in Aldinga Beach with Jo’s family at her parent’s house. My research before the trip served me well during the dinner conversation. One of Jo’s brothers tested me on drop bears and asked if I minded being called a Seppo. Jo’s mom talked about bogans, and her dad noted that Aussie rhyming slang is losing ground to American slang. The other brother admitted that rhyming slang is kind of dumb, but taught me some new expressions anyway . Everyone wanted to make sure we watched out for kangaroos crossing the highway.
Jo’s sister-in-law told a story about ramming her car into a fence and sustaining $400 in damage all to avoid a steaming pile of dog poo. Her best story, though, was about an animal she actually hit:
“ I woke up on a Sunday morning feeling rough, so I went to get some greasy burgers at Macca’s. I was near our old house in Woodville when, all of a sudden, I saw a yappy chihuahua crossing in front of me, but it was too late. I hit it two times—Boom Boom. . . Boom Boom, front and back. It went straight under. I stopped and walked around to pick it up, and when I did, it grabbed hold of my pinkie finger and wouldn’t bloody let go. I guess it was still in shock.”
“It was still alive?” I interrupted.
“Yeah, I don’t know how, but it got run over right on the stomach and missed the vital organs. I had to take it to the vet, and by the time it was all over, my Macca’s was cold,” she moaned. “I had to go get a tetanus shot and everything.”
I mentioned that we were driving out to visit Jo’s Uncle Bruce on Monday, and everyone perked up.
“Oh yeah, he’s a wild man.”
“He makes his living all kinds of ways. One day he’s out shootin’ ducks and roos. Other days he’s building things. And if he’s not buying a piece of junk for a dollar, he’s selling it for two the next day.”
“One time he surfed into Victor Harbor on a huge mulloway,” Jo’s brother recounted. “He made the newspaper—Man catches 6-Foot Mulloway with Bare Hand. There he was. . . holding a big fish by the gills, next to his board, wearing one gumboot and a pair of budgy smugglers.”
I couldn’t wait.
To continue to the next post, click here: (March of the Penguins)
Jo’s sister-in-law told a story about ramming her car into a fence and sustaining $400 in damage all to avoid a steaming pile of dog poo. Her best story, though, was about an animal she actually hit:
“ I woke up on a Sunday morning feeling rough, so I went to get some greasy burgers at Macca’s. I was near our old house in Woodville when, all of a sudden, I saw a yappy chihuahua crossing in front of me, but it was too late. I hit it two times—Boom Boom. . . Boom Boom, front and back. It went straight under. I stopped and walked around to pick it up, and when I did, it grabbed hold of my pinkie finger and wouldn’t bloody let go. I guess it was still in shock.”
“It was still alive?” I interrupted.
“Yeah, I don’t know how, but it got run over right on the stomach and missed the vital organs. I had to take it to the vet, and by the time it was all over, my Macca’s was cold,” she moaned. “I had to go get a tetanus shot and everything.”
I mentioned that we were driving out to visit Jo’s Uncle Bruce on Monday, and everyone perked up.
“Oh yeah, he’s a wild man.”
“He makes his living all kinds of ways. One day he’s out shootin’ ducks and roos. Other days he’s building things. And if he’s not buying a piece of junk for a dollar, he’s selling it for two the next day.”
“One time he surfed into Victor Harbor on a huge mulloway,” Jo’s brother recounted. “He made the newspaper—Man catches 6-Foot Mulloway with Bare Hand. There he was. . . holding a big fish by the gills, next to his board, wearing one gumboot and a pair of budgy smugglers.”
I couldn’t wait.
To continue to the next post, click here: (March of the Penguins)
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1 comments:
Oh dear. That paints a picture. Like an accident, I wouldn't know if I should avert my eyes or look anyway...
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