| This seppo is racking off! It's taken me most of the bloody games, but I think I've learned to speak 'Strine! I've had a ripper time lookin' out for spunks and starters and sneaking gargles from tinnies. Fair dinkum, I was afraid that I'd have Buckley's chance at having a pearler of a time without spending big bikkies.
I know I've been earbashing about Frank being a big-noter but he took care of me and the other blow in's he had to deal with. It's no furphy that if he hadn't done so well, I
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| might have fled Sydney like a rat up a drainpipe. My only worries would then have been the trains that kept going troppo and the dodge baggage system at Kingsford Smith (sorry, Susan).
I took my last shout after we stood up and barracked at the Closing Ceremonies. Not to chuck a wobbly, but I almost shed a tear that the games had come to an end. Even though I had spent too much time wingin' that the whole bloody thing was a dog's breakfast, I was going to miss seeing the journos everywhere and not having to wear warm cobbler even in the cold.
So, goodonyer Sydney! That was one hell of a show! |
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