An old farmer went duck shooting one day in South Australia and bagged three ducks. He put them in the back of his utility and was about to drive home when he was confronted by an ornery game warden who didn't like duck shooters.


The game warden ordered the farmer to show his hunting license, and the farmer pulled out a valid SA hunting license.


The game warden looked at the license, then reached over and picked up one of the ducks, sniffed its butt, and said, "This duck ain't from South Australia. This is a Victorian duck. You got a Victoria hunting license, boy?"


The farmer reached into his wallet and produced a Victoria hunting license.


The game warden looked at it, then reached over and grabbed the second duck, sniffed its butt, and said, "This ain't no South Australian duck either. This duck's from New South Wales. You got a New South Wales licence?"


The farmer reached into his wallet and produced a NSW license.


The warden then reached over and picked up the third duck, sniffed its butt, and said. "This duck's from Western Australia. You got a Western Australia hunting license?"


Again the farmer reached into his wallet and brought out a WA hunting license.


By now the game warden was extremely frustrated, and he yelled at the farmer, "Just where the hell are you from?"


The old farmer turned around, bent over, dropped his pants, and said, "You tell me, you're the expert!"