HAPPY MOTHERS DAY FOR YESTERDAY TO ALL THOSE DESERVING HARD WORKING MUMS I RECKON WE SHOULD HAVE THIS DAY EVERY WEEKEND!!!!!

THE MORE YOU EAT, THE MORE YOU SAVE.
This week we have some exciting news about a new service we are now able to provide. We’ve managed to secure pre-packed sides of beef, with no bones or dog meat included, for the great price of $12.50 per kg.

Most sides of beef you get are weighed with all the rubbish bits and bones included. Ours is all meat. There is no wastage at all, and vacuumed sealed to last in the fridge.

Each side is approximately 40kgs, and is a great way of  buying, as it represents excellent value for a variety of cuts. See the attachment for what is included. Phone or email for your personal order, delivered to your doorstep.

RECIPE OF THE WEEK. BEEF PIE. Perfect for the cold nights that are eventually coming!

We haven’t had anyone to give us a testimonial for a while. Why not tell us what you think, and get your name in our next Newsletter.

Katanning customers, start thinking about your Orders. We’ll be over on Thursday 19th  May so pass this onto as many people as you can.

Don’t’ forget we have those fantastic seasoned rolled beef roasts they are about 1.5 kg @ $11.90/kg and taste amazing!

Trotty’s poem this week has got a few naughty words in it, but without them, it’s not as funny so don’t read if you think it will offend. It’s about a typical conversation that might be overheard by a new Australian, and how hard it would be to understand the Aussie lingo.

A Language All Our Own

I bet the most amazing thing, a parent’s ever heard
Is without, a shred of doubt, their child’s very first word.
Whether it be “Mum” or “Dad”, or something quite unique
Once that first word comes along, they then can learn to speak.

The most common language is English, by a country mile
But here in down town Aussie, ours is a different style.
The lingo that is spoken in the hotels and the bars
To Poms and Yanks and Irishmen, must sound like we’re from Mars.

To liken things to something, is most common in our land
But to people that are foreigners, they just don’t understand
So as you read the rest of this, pretend you’re not Australian
The following conversation, would sound more like Venezuelan

“Hey Bluey, how ya goin’ Cob? Hey mate have ya got a tick?
I been workin’ like a Navvy. I’m as dry as a dead dog’s dick.
So wodda ya reckon, ya red haired prick, I s’pose I haffta shout.
I just told the boss to shove it, cos I’ve slogged me comics out.

I’ll have to tell the dragon, but I’ll only tell her bits
But stuff the cheese and kisses, she’s been givin’ me the shits.
Me boss is just a Gorganhead, and I’d had e-flamin-nuff
So I told the knob to bash it, now I couldn’t give a stuff.

Cos ya know the prick’s a foreigner, he just got off the boat
I’ll tell ya mate, I was really close, to doin’ me fuckin’ goat
I had to suck it in, ya see, I near on lost the plot.
I shooda took me medicine, but I wanted to smash the twat.

Me blood was really boilin’, I was sweatin like a coupla pigs
I shoulda done what I wanted to do, and kicked him in the figs
But I walked away like the King Gee man, and told him where to shovit.
So let’s go have a frothy one, and Jeez, I’m gonna love it.”

So Bluey says OK to this, and off to the pub they go
And after a couple of beverages the crowd begins to grow
They’re joined by a couple of shearers, drinking bucketloads of beer
In the corner’s some new arrivals, and this is what they hear.

“Hey Bluey ya ugly moron, just because ya got red hair
You are allowed to buy a drink, or is ya tight arse nailed there?
Are there spiders in your pockets or an impediment in your reach.
Your pockets too long and your arms too short, ya dirty son of a beach.”

“Don’t you be slingin shit at me, ya little bottle slapper
I’ve seen better lookin’ heads, on a Carnarvon Snapper.
I’ll get your drink soon enough, just hold onto your Neddy
In the meantime Princess, just wait until I’m ready.”

“Who you callin’ Princess, and where’d you learn that word?
Just remember knobhead, you can never polish a turd.
So don’t start talkin’ Posh now, your classroom was a tent.
To you the Canning Stock Route, is an annual event.

You’re thicker than a Toaster Loaf, as dumb as a wombat’s Mum
Your shoe size’s higher than your IQ, and ya head looks like ya bum.
Your man boobs are all saggy, and your Rudolph’s going red.
So go and get me a frothy one, or I’ll fart right on ya head.”

“Who you callin’ Dumbo, ya Jockstrap smellin’ whacka?
You take that back, or I will whack, these Cheezels up your clacka.
I know I’m not the smartest, but I can handle that.
Cos I was born a dummy, but were you born that fat?

I heard that when you went to school, you didn’t have much fun.
You were so fat, that in the class, you sat next to everyone.
Your holiday to Geike Gorge, where you went to run amok
But I heard that you fell in it, and got completely stuck.

Now I don’t like slingin shit you know, I don’t like bein’ mean.
But is it true, they use your shirts, at the drive-in for a screen.
I saw you at a birthday party, as the kids played pass the parcel.
With a big hose hangin’ out your arse, cos you were the bouncy castle.”

Then one of the shearer’s butted in, and he’d had his share of beers.
The foreigner’s in the corner just couldn’t believe their ears.
Cos what they heard from this bloke, made no sense, by any means.
He wasn’t speaking English, well definitely not the Queens.

“Listen ya pair of dropkicks, your both chockas full of shit.
I’ve seen better heads on boils, and you’re getting on my tit.
So stop ya bloody whingin’, and buy your mate a grog
Or I swear I’ll whip your freckle, like a mangy fuckin’ dog.

And don’t think that I’m barkin’, up a Boab tree
If ya reckon I’m tellin’ porkies, then you both can bugger me.
I reckon that the both of you, couldn’t lie straight in bed.
And why does he call you Bluey, when your hair is fuckin’ red.

So Red Nut get ya mate a drink, and while your doin’ that
Get me one too, or swear to God, I’ll knock ya fuckin’ flat
And how about a Sanga too, a toastie might suffice
Tomato, cheese and bit of pig, oughta do me nice.”

The visitors from overseas, couldn’t handle any more of this.
So one of them followed Bluey, when he went to take a piss.
“What language are you speaking? It sounds to me like Alien.”
“Ya must be jokin,” said Bluey, “aint you ever heard Australian?”

Jeff Trott 6/05/2011

Cheers and have a great week. Wayne and Jules.