Jolly Japes and Merry Pranks
Toady, on Adrian's blog, he gave Yobbo's page a deserved plug and also saw fit to give some much appreciated publicity to yours truly. In the course of said publicity, Adrian mentioned the poddy calf trick, in which a bloke (usually the groom at a buck's night) would be restrained and a poddy calf would be persuaded to impersonate Monica Lewinsky with him, most often by pouring milk over his wedding tackle. I haven't seen this done since the eighties in Victoria, unfortunately it was a bit late in the season for poddy calves and the chosen damsel had a couple of teeth. The gentleman in question is yet to produce offspring.
I got to thinking about other, specifically rural pranks and practical jokes and could not come up with all that many... I did send some drunken Baltic tourists in to get permission from my boss to view the coloured cotton (which is getting close to reality, but that's another story) and I know of at least one girl who suck-started several 3" diameter syphons. She proved to be very popular later on. Dead pigs have also been known to appear in places not normally associated with feral animals.
My personal favourite isn't actually a prank, but a story which has entered the rural lexicon: The Drover's Send-off.
For those of you who are unaware, which may be a few of you these days, many years ago, before the advent of road-trains and before the railways were widespread, cattle and sheep would be walked to market, or from one property to another, sometimes over distances of many hundreds of miles. The people who undertook this activity were called drovers. Droving is still a common occurrence, these days it is done to find feed for the stock in dry seasons, in the 'Long Paddock'.
The Drover's Send-off dates back to the nineteenth century when most droving was done on a contract basis by simple bush blokes, the sheep or cattle being owned by wealthy squatters, the original land thieves to whom some of Oz's most prestigious families trace their roots. After sometimes months on the road, carefully herding the squatter's stock, the drover would ask for his cheque. Usually it was forthcoming, but now and again the squatter would instruct his foreman to give the drover a send-off. And the send-off itself? It was described to me as "Shove a leg o' mutton up his arse and set the dogs onto him."
Which reminds me of the time on Argadargada station, where I was visiting friends and I asked, it being a remote place, what they did about sex. "About eight of us take the cook out the back and take turns fucking him," I was told.
"Don't like that idea very much." I said.
"Neither does the cook," my mate said, "That's why eight of us do it."
You had to be there.
I got to thinking about other, specifically rural pranks and practical jokes and could not come up with all that many... I did send some drunken Baltic tourists in to get permission from my boss to view the coloured cotton (which is getting close to reality, but that's another story) and I know of at least one girl who suck-started several 3" diameter syphons. She proved to be very popular later on. Dead pigs have also been known to appear in places not normally associated with feral animals.
My personal favourite isn't actually a prank, but a story which has entered the rural lexicon: The Drover's Send-off.
For those of you who are unaware, which may be a few of you these days, many years ago, before the advent of road-trains and before the railways were widespread, cattle and sheep would be walked to market, or from one property to another, sometimes over distances of many hundreds of miles. The people who undertook this activity were called drovers. Droving is still a common occurrence, these days it is done to find feed for the stock in dry seasons, in the 'Long Paddock'.
The Drover's Send-off dates back to the nineteenth century when most droving was done on a contract basis by simple bush blokes, the sheep or cattle being owned by wealthy squatters, the original land thieves to whom some of Oz's most prestigious families trace their roots. After sometimes months on the road, carefully herding the squatter's stock, the drover would ask for his cheque. Usually it was forthcoming, but now and again the squatter would instruct his foreman to give the drover a send-off. And the send-off itself? It was described to me as "Shove a leg o' mutton up his arse and set the dogs onto him."
Which reminds me of the time on Argadargada station, where I was visiting friends and I asked, it being a remote place, what they did about sex. "About eight of us take the cook out the back and take turns fucking him," I was told.
"Don't like that idea very much." I said.
"Neither does the cook," my mate said, "That's why eight of us do it."
You had to be there.
posted by Dirk at 5:04 pm
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