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The Great Aussie Yarn.
Over the years Mankind has developed three ways of recording
the happenings in it's existence. -
1. History -a record of what really did happen (hopefully).
2. Folklore - a record of what people believe happened.
3. Yarns - a way of keeping it all interesting.
. . . Then there's the Aussie Yarn.
Aussie Yarns really don't care what happened as long as it is interesting. An Aussie yarn usually ends in "Fair Dimkum Mate" This means - "and that's God's Honest Truth My Friend and may God strike me dead if it's not". An Aussie Yarn is an exaggerated tale that is often stretched a little too far, and in an attempt to bring it back into perspective a leg is pulled, then another, this tends to give the yarn a comical look, but so that it is not mistaken for a joke it is given a diagonal pull and twist to make it more believable. . . . Fair Dinkum Mate!!


An Aussie Man and His Shed
What goes on with blokes and sheds? And apparently it's not all hammers and nails and timber off cuts. Sex, drugs and rock 'n roll, great discoveries.... it all goes on in the back yard shed. Like the Dunny, the Footy Game and the Meat Pie & Sauce, the shed has an important place in Australian culture. It stands as a symbol of the Aussie Male's ingenuity, a testimony to his ability to fix anything with a length of fencing wire, a hammer & a piece of 4" X 2". Is it good to have a messy shed? Can you hoard too much? And what about the shedless bloke, is he inadequate  or just plain unlucky?  A good shed is packed to the rafters with memories, mystery and know-how. It releases the pressures of work and family, providing a haven where a bloke can maintain and repair his sense of identity. Any old building will do - the important thing is that it's his.


The Virtual Shed
"Honey tea's ready". . .  "Okay, Love, be there in a minute, just got one more thing to grab" His tea goes in the oven automatically, covered with a plate.... "Sorry, Darl, real good stuff. Come in handy one day, delicious tea" bits dripping onto chin. "What is it? Meat loaf? Yeah I love meat loaf!". . . So what kept you?" a little tense. "Oh a real beaut thing. Been looking for it for ages, just fits too." more sauce dribbling. . . "I'd give you a hand but I'd better get back to it.".... The peace of the almost clean kitchen is shattered by a misery filled moan.  "What's up Honey?". . . . He appears, gray, disheveled, "I can't believe it! . . . mutter.. useless. . @#*@!! pile. . crash..mutter. . boom. . junk. .#*@!! . . Single words fall incoherently from his lips. . . . She wipes her hands dry on her apron and rushes to console him. "It's okay Honey. Mathew's 16, he'll fix it!" We make our way back to the scene of the devastation. Everything seems frozen in time, still. . . (you can almost hear that theme from "The Twilight Zone" playing softly in the background) "I've over-loaded the hard drive again."  "Don't worry, Honey, we'll salvage the important stuff, Norton's is a great doctor. He shudders at the thought, but knew she was right. . . .  "I'll make you a cup of coffee." Why couldn't he just collect tin for dog kennels, like his Dad did, instead of useless computer games, sounds and screen savers?" she mutters to herself.


In Early Days Captain Arthur Philip sat on a rock pensively looking out over Sydney Cove. An officer came and joined him. "Y'know Groyne" he said "I never sought this position as Governor of the Colony".  "No SIr?" "No, y'see Groyne, I'm a simple man, the Navy's always been my life, but really I wanted more". "And what was it you wanted Sir?" asked Groyne. "All I ever wanted was to grow things, I love plants, I love watching things germinate and grow. So when His Majesty asked me to come over here and start a Colony, I jumped at the chance, you see he wanted me to establish an agricultural commune". "Did he Sir?"  "Yes Groyne, he told me no expense was too great, I could have anything I needed to establish my little farming colony. So I put in a requisition for agricultural implements for planting and collecting our harvest. I asked for 200 hoes & 800 wicker baskets, but you know the Public Service.
They buggered it up!" "How's that Sir?" "Well Groyne, they've sent me
200 whores & 800 wicked bastards!


A letter to the insurance. . . .
My Husband being an Amateur Radio Operator & My daughter being
a senior Insurance Claims officer, this letter was addressed to
the appropriate Insurance company addressed to . . . .
"The Senior Claims officer eyes only" and signed by her Dad.
~~
Dear Sir or Madam, I am writing in response to your request for additional information about my accident.In block #3 of the Accident Report Form I put poor planning as the cause of my accident. You said in your letter that I should explain more fully, and I trust the following details will be sufficient.~I am an amateur radio operator and on the day of my accident I was working alone, placing my new beam antenna atop my 70 foot tower. When I had completed my work, I found that I had 300 pounds of tools and hardware to bring down. Rather than carry the tools down by hand, I decided to lower them in a barrel using a pulley, which, unfortunately, was attached to the side of the tower at 70 feet. Securing the rope at ground level, I went up the tower and untied the rope, holding it tightly to ensure the slow descent of the 300 pounds of hardware. You will note in block #11 of the accident reporting form that I weigh 165 pounds.  Due to my surprise at being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost my presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope, needless to say I proceeded at a rather rapid rate up the side of the tower. In the vicinity of 35 feet I met the barrel coming down. This explains the fractured skull and broken collarbone.  Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping until the fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep into the pulley. Fortunately, by this time I had regained my presence of mind and was able to hold on tightly to the rope, in spite of my pain. At approximately the same time however, the barrel of tools hit the bricks and the bottom fell out of the barrel. Devoid of the weight of the tools, the barrel now weighed only 50 pounds, I refer again to my weight in block #11 of the accident reporting form.  As you might imagine, I then began a rapid descent down the side of the tower. In the vicinity of 35 feet I met the barrel coming up. This accounts for the two broken ankles and the numerous lacerations to my feet and legs and lower body. The encounter with the barrel slowed me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell onto the pile of tools and hardware, and fortunately, only three vertebrae were cracked. I am sorry to report, however, that as I lay there on the bricks, in pain, unable to stand, and watching the empty barrel dangling 70 feet above me, I again lost my presence of mind . . . . . and let go of the rope. . . . . . . . .
Needless to say Daughter rang Dad before finishing the letter to
check on his condition!


As the story goes a panda bear walks into the bar. He orders a beer, drinks it,  takes out his rifle, and shoots the glass, and leaves. He comes back the next day, orders a beer, drinks it, takes out his rifle, and shoots the glass, the following day he again comes in, orders a beer, but before he gives him the beer the bartender asked him why he shoots the glass. The panda bear said that he was a panda bear, and to look him up in the dictionary. So the bartender does, it reads: "Panda bear, a black & white bear that eats shoots and leaves."
In Australia we have an animal called the Hairy-Nosed Wombat" Now a hairy-nosed wombat comes into a bar, orders a sandwich, eats it, grabs hold of the barmaid and...but we won't go into that. The dictionary says "The Hairy-nosed Wombat is an Australian marsupial  that Eats Roots and Leaves."


.
The average Aussie man believes that women will never be equal to men 
until they can walk down the street in a singlet and thongs, with a bald head and a beer gut and still think they are beautiful. The average Aussie woman believes that men will never be equal to women until they can walk down the street wearing high heels and a mini-skirt, with a 2 yearold clinging to their leg and still think they are in control.


 

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Updated 30th May '99