Day Fifty Three

The sweat is rolling off my face like I’m crying. It’s 42*C with early 70s % humidity and it’s only 10.30am. Broome is not the place to be in you’re trying to look alluring – woman don’t glow here, they sweat like navvies. I have a permanent upset stomach due to the vast quantities of electrolites swimming in sugar I’m having to knock back to keep me upright. I got masticated by mossies on the cow farm a couple of nights ago so I’m constantly trying not to scratch. The aircon in the hostel is busted.

Grumpy? You do not know the half of it…..

Wednesday March 24th, 2010. Uncategorized.

One Comment

  1. Lizbe replied:

    A burnt out advertising executive decides he has had enough of the rat race & buys a property way out west. No electricity, no phones – no company.
    He has read everything he can &, after a few weeks is getting a bit bored. One afternoon he seens the dust coming up way in the distance coming towards him, a while later a crusty old bushie gets out of a battered holden ute and puts out his hand.
    “Hello mate, I’m your closest neighbour, live about 20 miles up the road, thought we’d chuck ya a bash to welcome you to the area”
    “Sounds great” says the ad-man.
    “I hear you city boys like your drugs and drink so we’ll get that in for ya.”
    “Sounds awesome” says the ad-man
    “we tend to get a bit punchie and horny ’round here after all those drugs & drink though, can ya handle yerself if a blue kicks off or a bit of sex is on the cards?”
    “I go alright” say the ad-man
    “this all sounds great, what time should I come and what should I wear?”
    “Doesn’t really mattter” says the bushie “it is only going to be you and me”…….

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