PUB BRAWL
'Wat'cha lookin' at?
I'd had enough of this loud mouthed lout,
and his pissed-out-of-mind billigerence;
So my repartee needed to be swift:
'I'll tell you what I'm looking at, a brainless,
boring, inarticulate piece of excrement.'
He slurred a reply sounding something like,
'Yar lookin' for a punshup arshole? '
My calm reply, 'I don't fight mentally fragile
cretins - go away! '
Gathering himself to a swaying target
he lurched at me arms flailing -
'I'll do yar, yar barshtard!'
Instinctively I side-stepped and kicked
him up the arse, propelling him through
the swinging doors into the street.
The last I saw of him he was propped up
by an upright mumbling, 'barshtard took
me on cos I were pished - I'll doimlikea
dinnaneshtime.'
'Sorry pal, ' there won't be a neshtime.'
Your proficiency with Aussie vernacular is second to none and this encounter with a drunken yobbo is described with full blooded enthusiasm. Another poetic knockout! Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
...thank you sweetheart, flattery will get you everywhere! Love, Jez