The blonde guy, a useless Dutchman with faultless Hawaiian windsurfing credentials and the business brain of a Timor monkey wants to play dice games
Posts from the ‘Scoresby’ Category
Rip an unborn calf from the womb of its dead mother and let it stew a while in the summer heat, then transport it at the dead of night to the Pass campsite wherein sleeps The Tribes of Unwanted and deposit this decomposed matter within their midst.
Right now Doug decides to pull back the dressing on his ulcer for a looksee, and the swollen wound swallows half his hand before some babe wearing a black lace hanky strolls past, all silky wobble and perve. We observe the moment with a tranquil and hormonal grief as Ken retires into the dank shadows for another piss. Five an hour is the usual but who’s counting.
Shintao beer is what’s left of Carlsberg’s disappointing venture into the Chinese boozer market, and since then China has given the krauts the arse, grabbed the formulae, increased the flavour, increased the alcohol content, increased the bottle size, and decreased the price.
We were sitting around the table in the Rose Bay Hotel with Scoresby and a couple of hard faced Maoris watching the races and waiting on a feed of Singapore noodles, a specialty of Mr. Ngyuen, Charles.
Nice chap Charles, seasons his chips with garlic and chopped chives
Her once clear eyes long blinded by cataracts, her memory ruthlessly scoured by Alzheimers, her legs sodden with a gangrenous discharge that had confounded him for weeks - she would clasp his warm hand with her own cold and taloned claw the instant he laid it down softly by her side.