I've warned you once, cobber. About what? Saying Fairydown?
Don't be coming the raw prawn with me, sport, or I'll knock your daggy head off your drongo body. Oh dear. That doesn't sound much fun at all, even if I had the faintest clue what you were talking about. Is this all to do with the Fairydown thing?
Look, mate. I'm as dinkum as the next bloke, but you've gone troppo if you think you can come out with that sort of brown-eyed mullet outside of the dunny. You see, I can hear a noise, but I'm not sure it's meant to mean anything. Tell me - are you speaking English?
Oh, I get it. A Pom. Ah! You do! Excellent! Now we've got that straight - what on earth are you talking about?
Look, you great galah, you can't just come round these parts using words like that. Like what?
Fairydown! You've got a couple of roos loose in the top paddock, mate - I root the Sheilas like a Mallee bull on heat! Do you mean you are a heterosexual?
Strewth! This guy's got as much sense as a dingo's donger! Of course I am, you dillo dipstick. Well, what's that got to do with the price of fish?
You're the one accusing me of doing the naughty with the jackaroos! You know, of being (ssh) a fairy. Don't be preposterous. I'm talking about the famous New Zealand manufacturer of sleeping bags and outerwear...
Oh ...which was founded in 1930 and clothed Sir Edmund Hillary on his ascent of Everest 23 years later.
So it's not some nancy brand of scented hairspray for the Sheilas and, you know, Priscilla? Of course not. What kind of idiot would think that?
Um, well, I think they've changed the name in Australia. To Zone. Sounds a bit more masculine, than, er, y'know...
Not to be confused with: Tie me kangaroo down.
