A FIFO worker and a tradie sit at a bar arguing over who works the hardest. From a dark corner comes a grizzly voice, “yeh? That’s fuck all, neither of you would know what hard work is”. The men slowly turn around, aw fuck, it’s a farmer.
Barnaby walks over to put the dispute to pasture, he points at the tradie’s steak sanga, “where do you think that bloody food comes from, I’m up at bloody 3:30 bloody putting food on your table, where is my thanks cob?”
Thanks? Given that he is only providing food to Australia that he can’t sell to China at a premium, and he runs his business to optimise profit, perhaps a little pat on the back will suffice ay Cunt Eastwood?
See, Barnaby is a wheat man. Born into wheat and is as asset rich as the original cast of Baywatch. He talks about your table a lot, but given that he has death-stared every city slicking nancy he’s seen in Perth, it’s safe to say he doesn’t really give a fuck about what’s on your table.
Why is he mingling with ungrateful city dwellers? A few reasons really. His son has been treating Perth roads like the Newman Rodeo and been done for drink driving (again), his daughter fled farm life and has got engaged to a man Barnaby thinks is a poof, and finally, he wants to audition for The Farmer Wants a Wife.
The family convene for lunch, and Barnaby’s soon to be son-in-law drops a bombshell, “ excuse me waiter, what are your gluten-free options?”
Barnaby leans indiscreetly towards his son, “he can bloody tolerate a dick in the bum, but not good honest wheat?” His son replies, “dad he’s not a poof I don’t reckon, like maybe but nah”. They look up to see the happy couple staring at them in shock.
Well, that was a fair dinkum clanger, to lasso the lunch back into the realms of civility, Barnaby begins talking about his Farmer Wants a Wife Audition. “If they talk to you tell em that me and the wife split amicably, no need to mention me annual camping trip with Brucey orright cobs?”
Amazingly, Barnaby is able to hide his personality long enough to snare a city woman on the show. She has no fucking idea what she’s in for.
On the first night, Barnaby warms her up with some pillow talk, “right, gonna give you a plough, then we’re up at sparrows to change the oil on me tractor orright?” She is horrified, and her southern paddock is as dry as a milk-less bowl of Weet-Bix.
Barnaby is triggered, “aw shit luv, I deal with enough bloody droughts out there, don’t bring one into me bed”. He is unable to bring the rains that night but does have a nifty little trick he learned from Brucey in the ol camping shack.
Needless to say they separate days later.
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?