3 Attachment(s)
FYM Roar 2012.....part 1.
The day started out as any other day...sun came up, same shit different day...but wait !!!! a very exiting e-mail in my box....MEB had written a "heartfelt" novel to myself and Bambislammer.
As some of you know, the last few years, Slammer and I have taken the odd (and there have been some seriously odd f*ckers) newbie or sorta newbie on our roar trips, but this time we'd said, "f*ck em, we'll go and kill all the stags in the North Island by ourselves"....
But, then THAT mail arrived.
So warm and tender it was, almost like a love poem, a Mills and Boon novel of sexual tension, ah nice.....
Actually thats bollocks....it basically said, "Oi, its me, MEB, can i come hunting with you c*nts in the roar?"...
Shocked and horrified i was to see such vile language in an e-mail that i myself had not written.!
I replied, "FYM".
However, the long haired pommy git was insistent..."i have no friends, i am a pommy git, my hair is that of a girl, i hardly ever bathe, and my toenails collect dirt".
"f*ck you're in", i said. "We're always looking for filthy northlanders to take hunting, and seeing as you took me marlin fishing, and let me chunder all over your f*cking flash boat, FYM, you're a starter"
"Shit hot" was the scunners reply.
FFS what have we let ourselves in for, and with that, an invite was dispatched to another filthy forum scunner but was politly turned down because we were c*nts !
Thanks &^%*#$.....maybe next year.
With that i belled me old mate from Palmy....the little bush-hobbit known as Philipo.
Action plans were hatched, dispatched and re-hashed.....and f*ck me sideways with a billy lid, nek minute, April f*cking fools day dawned.
MEB had conked at the dog kennel over night, turned the sheets in the guest room crusty, ate almost all his dinner and probably molested one or more of our cats !
So, with a pile of gear bigger than a ship load of haemaroids we were off like a robbers dog to collect Bambislammer from the pits of TA and heading east by south east...destination "pie shop in Vegas " for breakfast.
Halfway there, a call from our ride telling us to woah neddy, you'll fly at 11 not 10, so we dropped down a km/h less to 79 and chugged along holding up traffic and blowing diesel fumes to all corners of the globe !
Pie shop raided, boys happiness filled, off to meet Flipo ...and f*ck me , there was the little fella, waiting patiently on the side of the road by a big pile of "freedom camper pooh and a used tampon".
Well chosen spot to meet Flipo.....
There we went to the helicopter landing zone....and f*ck me, there was our ride...a shiny nice McDonnel Douglas 500E.
Piled half our shit in, i snuggled up between our driver, Dave, and Slammer , and with a twist of this and that and a handfull of something that makes a kitchen whisk go up and along, we were airborne and fanging along at 118km/h looking down on trees and stuff trying to spy out deer.
A bit later we got to our spot, nice landing, bailed with a truckload of kit and he was off to get our "kitchen bitches".
They turned up eventually and we built a f*cking good camp.
Attachment 1696
Philipo's shanty
Attachment 1697
MEB and i got our shit sorted after a feed and buggered off for a look up the side creek, climbing out of the water noise and mooching along with MEB locked cocked and ready to rock, while i took up a position slighty to the rear of the artillary with the roaring horn in hand, and giving the surrounding area a bit of a tune up.
f*ck all happened and after a while it became too gloomy to see very good so we dropped into the creek , after spying out a likely looking slip we returned to camp with "high hopes" for tomorrow.
The others saw or heard f*ck all either.
Nek morning, after a restfull snooze on my snazzy new Xped 7 down filled lilo (f*cking awesome it is too....thanks to Cleaky for recommending that to me and a good revue from a few other lads) MEB and i were up at sparrows and nipped up the side creek to the slip.
Hung out there til 8 30 ish then i suggested we inch along a ledge and have a gander round that bit there.
Inching along like a couple of inchers, we were to the limit of our rock ledge when we looked up and spied a hind having a gawk at us.
We were pretty well camoed and with the orange blaze that annointed our bodies we musta bin invisible to the maggot cos she just fed in behind a tree with just her arse sticking out like an invitation to be given a good kicking.
We waited the bitch out, like trying to get a discount at KFC...and eventually another deer, a young stag, poked its head and neck out....KABOOM....the Winchester M70 .275 spat a chunk at the stag and he gave us a two fingered salute...so another missile was launched and had the same effect.
"Made in North Korea"?, were they , i asked.
"f*cken shot felt good "....says MEB.
The deer had f*cked off up out of our view, so we scaled the near vert cliff to suss the area out, no sign of a dead deer, no blood and after 40 minutes of grid searching we concluded that indeed, MEB was a useless c*nt and in future he should throw flower pots at any further deer he may encounter !
So, off we tootle, over there, up there, across that tricky bit, down there, round that and f*ck me...porky pig and his hench-pigs had been on manouvers !
About half an acre had been turfed over with the snouts working overtime like a digger on acid....amazing, ....so we crawled and trawled carefully around that lot expecting any moment to see a live porkster awaiting a lead present, but the f*ckers had trashed the joint and left the scene like a bunch of New Orleans looters !
I had to throw the air brakes on MEB a couple of times, saying, "FFS, slow down you c*nt, theres no rush, we're here for a f*cken week"....
So, at a metre a minute we trundled along, and slowly headed for the creek and then to camp for breakfast.
Nek minute, as we poked our heads over the top of the gut we were in, we spy a tasty looking 6 point redskin, mooching along having his own breakfast...he looks up, but we were back 15 yards from our creek edge, well hidden, he puts his head down to feed, MEB up with the M70 and hurls a "flower pot" at the f*cker and pole-axes the c*nt on the spot !!!!!
f*ck yes, we're on the board Miss Ford !
Meb bolts from our spot, across the creek and up the other side like a f*cking long haired hippie gazzelle....smile on his ugly mug like he'd just shagged his mum, pleased as punch.
Attachment 1698
Beauty mate...nice shit.
On the radio to Slammer..."On the board Miss Ford"...
"Shall we rock on up?"
f*ck yes, why not"
A few ticks later and BS with Plipo in tow, arrive on the scene of the teams first murder.
We cut the massive antlered beasts mellon off, rip its guts out and pack its hairy carcass up for MEB to carry the monster down to camp.
Now, DD (Dumbarse Duncan) weighed about 60 kg dressed out, MEB weighed 65 kgs wringing wet on the scales at the chopped pad...this was going to be an even contest.
On goes Duncan, up gets MEB, off goes them both.
We gather up our shit, check for any left accoutriments and saunter off after the rapidly departing pair.....
An epic 8 minute slog back to camp and Meb collapses in a heap like a sheep thats just been shagged by an Aussie....we fetch him a drink and he tells us again for the trillionth time how f*cking brilliant he is at shooting shit and how f*cking wonderfull "that c*nt greendog is for guiding him onto the ginga"......
Very nice !
After a feast and a yarn, we all f*cked off in different directions to look for more DD's to murder.....but alas, we returned to the "bunker" empty handed with reports of f*ck all making a din in the shrubbery.
Philipos "shanty".
Well, that was day 1 1/2....on the board, MEB happier than a paedofile in a kindy , and the pressure was off the rest of us cos we claimed a leg each just for being there.! , f*ck yes !
