Thread: Woodwork in literature

I'm as big a hypocrite as the next guy

Well who is he? We can get stuck into him too...

Originally Posted by silentC

Well who is he? We can get stuck into him too...

He lives down south of Sydney, somewhere unpronouncable to all but the locals.

Originally Posted by Tex B

He lives down south of Sydney, somewhere unpronouncable to all but the locals.

Taren Point?

unpronouncable to all but the locals

Yeah, all three of them. The rest of us haven't got a hope. We just call it "you know where".

She was my best hen
Always was, even back then
Best layer I had by a long way
She was the best, I must say

Seems a pity all them years
This chook laid with no fears
Came the day she didnt lay
All I could do was hold the tears

Lump in my throat I couldnt swallow
Chopping block rang so hollow
With a chop she was dead
The axe still ringing in my head


The best layer I ever had
Gone to heaven all too sad
With the passing of my chook
I gave her to my homely cook

In the pot my best layer went
Her flesh I think was heaven sent
The taste was sweet and divine
I toasted her with some wine



Al