Here in the eastern bit of Sydney and more specifrically around Bondi we've started to experience the oncoming tide of the seasonal Irish/Brit ratsacker infestation. "Hit 'em high, hit 'em low, hit with the old elbow" doesn't quell what is a tidal force. Its gonna be bad this season because of The Ashes. The Barmy fucking Army are coming back and they are a right fucking bunch of pommy tourist bastards. Any national group on tour is best avoided, just look at what happens when a Contiki bus rumbles through Rome. The Caribineri lock and load and wield their machine guns with suitable menace when they that bus full of aussies and Kiwis rock into town. The Barmy Army is if anything, slightly more organised and more mature but more loud and obnoxious 'cos they know its the last hurrah of youth. After an Ashes tour its settle down with kids time so its no bends, straight on it and stay on it. The silly fuckers drink VB. Just shows you how fucked they really are. Now the problem is we don't have gun-toting crazy wogs in uniform like the Caribineri to scare the poms. The only gun toting wogs we have are too busy shooting up houses in the south western suburbs of Sydney or playing at being hitmen in places like Rushcutters Bay and Hornsby. Well, not really Hornsby, just sort of threw it in because I like that name. Horsnby. Sounds trustworthy, sort of solid. Anyways our lot are either doing those things or are already serving time for drug and weapons related offences. And the only uniforms they wear are taken straight off the shelf of Athletes Foot. So what to do about summer? Go to the beach in non peak hour periods, get used to stereo battles and make sure I'm well stocked in beer and whiskey. And maybe play a couple of away games. I just hope that Michael Clark gets adopted by England and they take him home with them. The dozey tosser.
Okay, fuck the spell check, straight to publish.