Gidday. How ya going mate? That's the bloody story.
I reckon I can hear the bloody whinging from here ya know. The British and Irish Lions arrived last week and word on the street is they've brought a whole cattle-truck full of moaning supporters. Cripes! What a bloody thought. Well, to be honest with ya, so long as they don't drink all the booze at my bloody pub I don't really give a monkeys.
They arrived all cocky. But talk about laugh Trev, when those Bay of Plenty boys gave them a hurry up. Cripes it was a bloody good watch. For a few ticks in the first half, the whole pub was going flamin' berko!
That BOP prop... Bloody flamin' nora! You could make strainer posts out of his flamin' neck! When he got the ball and took off he was like old Dave's prize bull headin for a paddock of heifers! Bugger me if he didn't destroy the Lions defence like it was a crapped out old Taranaki Gate!
Speaking of ugly. That Hori BOP mascot thingy is a right mean looking piece of work. He makes some of them crones from down the Women's Institute look pretty bloody meek, and I'll tell ya what, that's flamin' saying something!
Some of the boys down the pub were a bit surprised by the Bay's scrum. More shove than a ram at tupping time. Bloody marvellous! Talk about smile when they started pushing the Lions about. Cripes, I nearly forgot to sneak me last happy hour jug in when the Bay got up to 17 all! Now that, my friend, would have been a flamin' travesty!
Watching Ronan O'Gara reminded me of the time I played Ray at Pool at the Interpub comp. I just stood back and watched ball after flamin' ball whacking into the same two bloody corner pockets. On defence O'Gara might be about as useful as a one legged man at an arse kickin' competition, but he can come and beat bloody Ray at pool for me any night of the flamin' week!
Ouch and Jesus-flamin'-you-know-bloody-who!! That Laurie Dallaglow's ankle bent round further than the S-bend on the milking shed bog. Poor bastard. All the fella's down the pub felt that one. When that fangled slow-mojo replay came on, talk about a collective "awww f*ck!" We pretty much agreed it likely smarted a bit. Probably nothing on whacking your thumb with a fencing hammer on a frosty morning. But still, reckon it probably hurt. Like I said, poor bastard...
Hats off to some of those Lions though. They might be a bunch of useless soft Poms, but they did alright once the Bay let them have a sporting chance by subbing off a few of their best players. A tad generous of them. But, good on Vern Cotter though I reckon... Giving all the boys a run against the Lions was worth a shout down at the Local.
Anyways. Speaking of the Local. All this flamin' typing has left me throat dryer than the Canterbury plains in February. Might just pop down for a quickie before the wife gets some grub on the table. Go the 'naki Wednesday night eh!
Spotya!
