Quotes from the Fundinator
Posted on 2008-Jun-8 at 09:01
There are many rites of passage when you become a New Australian. Wearing thongs, eating pies and vegemite toast and throwing shrimps on the barbie are just a few. There are also many less internationally known customs that may come as a surprise to you once you are here.
The Pub Meat Raffle, for example.
Every week pubs across the nation are invaded by uniformed members of various sports teams walking the floor and carrying huge cling-wrapped trays of meat or seafood. Their purpose: to hawk raffle tickets for your chance to win them. The tickets are usually only a dollar or two and the raffle is drawn as soon as they are all sold. If you are lucky enough to win you can have a huge barbie knees-up for all your mates and still have meat for dinner every night for a week. All the proceeds of the raffle go to the team for, well, new sports stuff I suppose.
Fundy initially got a shock the first time a big hulking bloke in slinky stubbie shorts thrust a tray of chops in his face and boomed “Ticket, mate?” He wasn’t sure what to do and it took him a moment to put down his beer. But I am pleased to report that he soon caught on and is now among the first to search for change when the raffle lads come through the door.
This week Fundy received even more of a shock: he won! Instead of a meat tray, however, he won a whole boneless shoulder joint of pork and a 10kg bag of potatoes to go with it. Woohoo! – a roast dinner was going to be on at our house.
Now, knowing that we may well imbibe a snifter or two and being the responsible citizens that we are, we had walked to the pub that night. This meant that we also had to walk home with the new booty. Being a true gentleman, the Fundinator gallantly offered to carry the heavier of the items - the 10kg bag of potatoes – and he hefted them on to his back like Santa for the trek. I had the pork in a plastic shopping bag and did the same.
Secretly congratulating myself on my endless intelligence and wit, about half the way home I snorted, pointed to the bag resting over my collarbone and said, “Look babe, I’ve got a shoulder of pork! Shoulder *point point at my shoulder* of pork *point point at the meat resting on it* – Geddit? Geddit?!” Hahaha! - Oh I thought I was just so witty and clever.
But who am I to mess with the master.
Hoisting up the bag of potatoes to just the correct degree for effect, the Fundinator looked me straight in the eye and deadpanned “Well, I’ve got a chip on my shoulder!”
*sigh*
The Pub Meat Raffle, for example.
Every week pubs across the nation are invaded by uniformed members of various sports teams walking the floor and carrying huge cling-wrapped trays of meat or seafood. Their purpose: to hawk raffle tickets for your chance to win them. The tickets are usually only a dollar or two and the raffle is drawn as soon as they are all sold. If you are lucky enough to win you can have a huge barbie knees-up for all your mates and still have meat for dinner every night for a week. All the proceeds of the raffle go to the team for, well, new sports stuff I suppose.
Fundy initially got a shock the first time a big hulking bloke in slinky stubbie shorts thrust a tray of chops in his face and boomed “Ticket, mate?” He wasn’t sure what to do and it took him a moment to put down his beer. But I am pleased to report that he soon caught on and is now among the first to search for change when the raffle lads come through the door.
This week Fundy received even more of a shock: he won! Instead of a meat tray, however, he won a whole boneless shoulder joint of pork and a 10kg bag of potatoes to go with it. Woohoo! – a roast dinner was going to be on at our house.
Now, knowing that we may well imbibe a snifter or two and being the responsible citizens that we are, we had walked to the pub that night. This meant that we also had to walk home with the new booty. Being a true gentleman, the Fundinator gallantly offered to carry the heavier of the items - the 10kg bag of potatoes – and he hefted them on to his back like Santa for the trek. I had the pork in a plastic shopping bag and did the same.
Secretly congratulating myself on my endless intelligence and wit, about half the way home I snorted, pointed to the bag resting over my collarbone and said, “Look babe, I’ve got a shoulder of pork! Shoulder *point point at my shoulder* of pork *point point at the meat resting on it* – Geddit? Geddit?!” Hahaha! - Oh I thought I was just so witty and clever.
But who am I to mess with the master.
Hoisting up the bag of potatoes to just the correct degree for effect, the Fundinator looked me straight in the eye and deadpanned “Well, I’ve got a chip on my shoulder!”
*sigh*
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