Sunday 21st of July 2019

a crocodile enters into a pub...

bismark

Two drunks, bob and Phil, seated on stools in an Aussie pub, converse at the bar….

Bob: — A kangaroo walks into a pub…


Phil: — Hang on, kangaroos don’t walk… They hop!
— Okay. A kangaroo hops into a pub…
—Hang on. Kangaroos don’t go into pubs…
—Okay, okay… A wombat walks into a pub…
—Hey, wombats don’t walk either, they bob along…
— Sure. A wombat hobs along into a pub…
— That’s bullshit. Wombats never go to the pub…
— Well.... What about a horse going into a pub?
— Stop.... I already know that horse joke… I’ve seen it on TV…
— What about a priest walks into a pub?
— Hum, I've seen Father Mulcahey… He was not walking in.
— Yes?
— He was being thrown out on his arse for being pissed out of his B-Jesus!
— So what about a crocodile walking into a pub?
— Looking for his mate stuffed on the wall, there?
— You know this joke as well?
— I’ve seen more crocodiles than I care to say walk into this pub…
— What about a Jew?
— Hey don’t be racist!
— What if I add a Muslim and a Protestant coming into a pub?
— Ecumenism?… That’s okay with me.
— So the three men…
—No sheilas? That’s sexist.
— Okay. A woman, a trans and a bloke of various denominations enter a pub.
— Do they walk in, hop or hob along?
— I don’t know. I wasn’t there…
— What about the Prime Minister? He is a pintocastol, no?
— Into this pub?
— He visited one pub in each town he went to…
— So he could come here in…in…  Hey! Where the bloody hell are we?
— You tell me… 
— I asked first…
— Dunno. 
— Ah, the good old town of Dunno…
— Certainly the best beer on the other side of the black stump…
— Hey George! (the bartender, whose name is John, but looks like Dubya)
— What's this town we’re in again?
George: (thoughtful) — Hey, here comes a kangaroo, a wombat, a crocodile, some weirdos and the prime minister for a beer in this Dunno pub…
Phil: — You’re taking the piss out of us, aren’t ya? Free beer!…
George: — just ran out…
Bob: — Bugger! We’re in the pub with no beer in the town of Dunno…
George: — Just ran out of FREE beer… Plenty of the other stuff…
Phil: — And we still dunno where we are, then?
George: — The mystery of the universe is unfathomable…
Bob: — At least we know where the carpet stains come from…
Phil: — Hey, look! Here comes a yellow dog with a live stick of gelignite in its muzzle…
Bob: — Don’t mix the stories here. I know this one.


They soon realise that this is no joke and they fall off their stools, George picks both of them by the scruff of the neck at great speed and all get out… The pub explodes, leaving a heap of broken wood, and rusted corrugated iron bits. Outside, the stifling heat is around 50 degrees Celsius. A kangaroo, a wombat, a priest, three weirdoes, a prime minister, a crocodile, an obviously shaken dog, two gold prospectors and a flock of galahs, join Bob, Phil and George in the sands of the desert, which stretches for miles around. A beer keg leaks and they all come around this beer oasis to refresh themselves in this dunno town with only one pub that's no more…

Story collected by Julian Melon.


see: The Loaded Dog by Henry Lawson…
https://www.alldownunder.com/australian-authors/henry-lawson/loaded-dog.htm


Picture at top by Gus Leonisky. Bismarck was (is?) an old croc about FIVE metres long. A HUGE beast...

the battle of the yellow pup....

yellow

Extract from a Norman Lindsay cartoon about clerical matters...

ding dong...

croc


can't wait for summer...

summer