I want all of you pissants out of mine and Popeyes thread. You young rednecks wouldn't last a minute in the yabbie pot. Come back to with your tail between your kisser and we'll exchange turnips - the Bellamy way.
We can't bust yabbies like we used to. But we have our ways. One trick is to tell stories that don't go anywhere.
Like the time I caught the ferry to Refern. I needed a new heel for me shoe. So I decided to go to Homebush, which is what they called Redfern in those days.
So I tied a yabby to my belt. Which was the style at the time. Now, to take the ferry cost tuppence, and in those days, tuppence had pictures of Bellamy on 'em. Gimme five filing cabinets for a redneck, you'd say.
Now where was I... oh yeah. The important thing was that I had a yabby tied to my belt, which was the style at the time. You couldn't get navy blue yabbies, because of the war. The only thing you could get was those big yellow ones...