Raise the John Forrest

From the dunnies at the tavern in the John Forrest National Park. Perhaps the bumpkin turn of phrase comes from the majestic Cussler collection the tavern maintains? Largest in the southern hemisphere I’ve heard.  I’d go for the Harold Robbins myself. 

About AHC McDonald

Comedian, artist, photographer and critic. From 2007 to 2017 ran the culture and satire site The Worst of Perth
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18 Responses to Raise the John Forrest

  1. rottobloggo says:

    Polar Shit?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Russell Woolf's Lovechild says:

    Listen to Alfie, the Antipodean Smokey the Bear or burn baby burn.


  3. juantrak says:

    That bloke with the texta would never make it in the Marketing Dept.
    The thought balloon should read, “I can feel a Cussler at the JF coming on – how about you?”


  4. rottobloggo says:

    Wolf Lane has a set of Funk & Wagnalls. “True story”.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. you'll get wet says:

    Wiki says – The Clive Cussler books feature his swashbuckling pilgrim Dirk Pitt. Black Wind was written by the Clivester with his son, Dirk Cussler. Seems like Clive was Cussed with a bad case of the Dirks. I knew there was something fishy about that bookshelf, not a Winton in sight.


  6. you'll get wet says:

    …. whistled to her favourite Alsation, commanding him to lick her body all over prior to slipping into the camouflage Killer Whale suit, the same one Dirk had once used to swim from Rotto to Diego Garcia while on joint exercises with the Royal Hutt River Province Boat Squadron.

    Dammit she thought, I’ll never squeeze my thighs into this thing, perhaps I should try some of that lubricant Dirk gave me for his birthday. But not even a generous layer of vegemite was going to get her breasts in this time. She’d just have to find another way to pass the money to the people smugglers.

    Perhaps, she thought, we could purchase Winton remainders and insert the notes in secret cut-out inner chambers, then deilver them rappelling from a Blackhawk with only the Pleides as witness? The media would never guess.

    Climbing to the roof of the Indiana Tearooms, she pulled out her Thrane and Thrane satphone kit and unfolded the dish, soon enough the beep gathered pace as it homed in on the Indian Ocean Bird..

    ‘Dirk Dirk Dirk, Strudel, do you copy me, back…’
    ‘Roger Roger Roger Strudel where the fuck have you been, back…’


  7. Reign of Error says:

    Gutter humour


  8. El Guisto says:

    Went in there a while back. Not a copy of Rodox to been seen anywhere. What sort of an establishment are they keeping I ask?


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