
Now, who went and called these pussy-skirts sissies!
THE Bash, for one, was surprised to see the
neo-Nazi Boer baby-killers biting and gouging in Saturday's rah-rah
Test against Australia.
Of course, I am speaking with me dick in me hand or with me something
in me something, as they say in those fancy barramundi wrappers
they print stuff in, down Mexico way.
Nah, you expect that sort of crap from the Sprungkoks.
What sort of worried me a little was seeing this black South African
manager calling the Aussie public-school bed-wetters a bunch of
sissies.
I sort of expected such a pissweak insult from the repesentative
of this gutless mob of Sprungkok black shooters.
I mean, only a pussy calls a skirt a sissy.
But this blackfella doing his Unca Tom number standing up for
these thuggy white supremacists concerned me just a tad.
I mean, in this Jarpie team is probably someone whose father was
throwing this black manager's father from the 13th floor window
of police headquarters.
That was what the SA coppers called interviewing a suspect in
the 1970s. (SA stands for South African because South Australian
cops did not have any highrise headquarters. For simple pleasures
akin to those of their Jarpie counterparts, they were forced to
drown poofs in various watewrways of Adelaide and environs).
***
A connection exists between top grade Australian
rugby league and international rah-rah.
Don't try and get ahead of me, true league fans, and think I am
referring to the obvious. I am not talking about former has-been
rugby league playing wingers: Matt Rogers, Wendell Sailor and
Lote Tuquiri
This rugby league pair are close to wingers as they are the two
great whingers of the game - Ricketty Stewheart and Guts Ghoul.
The pair fell over themselves in exasperation and disgust about
a referee pulling up a Sprunkok type tactic in Friday night's
game betwwen the Rooters and the Rodents.
Ghoul and Stewheart sprayed this skirt, sissy, pussy, sheila stuff
- or whatever moniker you fancy - in the direction of the video
ref's box. The video humpire had the gall to pinch Rooters forward
Adrian Moratlly for attempted decapitation.
These two Rooters coaches go by the nicknames of Tweedledud and
Tweedledick but no one is sure which is which.
Just how much they have contaminated this Rooters outfit is shown
in the fact they have hard playing, mild-mannered Freddy Fiddler
ranting and raving like Geoff Toovey on Angel Dust.
Dead set, the Bash has had more early hot showers than cold crumpet,
mostly coming early too. But that's a part of my medical history
best left to myself, though I would not mind putting it in the
ear of that Qantas clown who wants to drug-test employees.
***
I will volunteer to check the bags of the management
scumsnorter who came up with that one.
As I was saying, The Bash got as good from referees as he gave
to opposition players.
Did you hear me whingeing and a'whining?
Did I write something nasty on the side of the ref's car as I
was slashing his tyres? No.
Did I take the opportrunity to bitch while I was banging his wife?
No!
Have whingeing and lifting-your-skirts flashed past sportsmanship
in rugby league. You bet it has!
***
Five games to go in the NRL premiership and it's interesting times
ahead, indeed.
With the Brumbies on the skids and the Knights near-nutted, The
Canberra Rodents look equally rooted and the Penny Panthers neutered.
I do think the Bulldags are near to good things to play in the
grand final, but who they will meet is anybody's guess.
If your team finishes in fifth to eighth position, don't shred
your betting slip as you are in it with a chance.
It is a weird year in rugby league so why wouldn't they let Guts
Ghoul and Ricketty Stewheart loose on us so we can swim to September
in a sea of liquid manure.
Cup-u-lata
Bash.