AUSTRALIA’S HIDDEN SOCIETY, “THE VOLLEY”
VOLLEYS AND ME; for that matter any self respecting ‘Aussie’. Many people have tried to describe the all encompassing status symbol; I make reference to this “life style” in my web page. No intention was envisaged to make light of the hours of fun derived from wearing my VOLLEYS, in fact you will understand, you don’t wear them they wear you, you become part of their world and abide by their social ramifications.
The Volley has been an AVALON MILKMAN, a FENCING CHAMPION, (I wish), a member of an EMERGENCY ORGANISATION, they have caught many fish; they relish fish guts and scales.
A Volley I know suggested an incredible addition to their tribe; “Cover ME in fish scales, attach bottle tops to my ‘souls’ and I will carry you over rocks to your favorite fishing spot”. They can play squash, and I understand have ventured on to a tennis court and won many titles. They will have notable success in the building industry; they have led our country to great heights in combating the housing shortage.
The Volley is a living thing, and deserves to be treated so, it has a heart and lung of its own. It has its own particular endorphin glands; you will feel yourself being dragged to places against your wish. When the seemingly magnetic attraction abides you become aware of something very strange; if you look down there is all these Volleys with people standing in them.
A Volley is a proud personage. When they are born they arrive into the world in many colors, now isn’t that strange, no it’s not!
Think about it, underneath they are just like you and me, they live and draw breath and deserve to place in society, just like all colored people. They have this need to return to a basic color, washing machines and scrubbing brushes they will not tolerate, they recon we all should be color liberal, and remember Volleys will revolt when any mention of an ‘odor’ is made in their presence. A Volley once told me; “He who complains of a smell ‘down under’ has two options, vote Labor or wash your feet”.
Volleys are a copyright issue, they are intellectual(s) property of Australia, Mr. Dunlop has the father rights, Mrs. Dunlop is the Mother of all Volleys. © john Farley, AKA; johnfarlsbrunz.com, johnfarls.com
ME VOLLEYS.
© john d Farley. 2008
There’s a whimper on me front porch, it’s being goin’ for a while.
Guess it’s time to talk the walk and take in a country mile.
Me dog your wondering? I would do to if I was you, and probably surmise.
But give a minute, three at best and you’ll have a pleasant surr prise.
Yep, I have had me share of man’s best friend, had the pleasure of many a faithful canine.
But the whimper’s not coming from the pooch on the porch; it’s from another stench? (Read staunch), real good friend of mine.
My best friends are made of rubber, the heading gives a clue.
It’s name is real Australiana, ©VOLLEYS is it’s name ©, and no other name will do.
And so I pulls them on and off we goes, we are chatting all the while.
“Remember when we owned the Milk Run, good old Pancho, Avalon Parade.
We braved all weather you and I, had good times us three, no time for life’s charade”.
“Clareville Beach, bloody Torpedoes, spiders and other stuff we went through”.
Can I have the stage, cogitate and disseminate, give a thought or two.
We can’t separate our existence our experiences, and recollections we have been through
Me Volleys and I must offer some info’, in regards to family history, and well this may be.
Your faithful dooorg, your frivolous Pussy, have a life expectancy and that will be.
Me Volleys are one, contectual, they are all encompassing, from one special place they come.
One Mum, one Dad, one son gender changing, like a Seahorse progeny, like, life is goin’ on.
And now I’m in the SES the VOLLEY© legend will live on and please forget the folly.
A ‘deckies’ out of PPE without their precious VOLLEY©.
All that went before concerns close relations, pre-dispatched they are, but in fact there’re free. Me sand shoes are part of me, like Vegemite, Victa and Aborigine.
Losing time and space, your author, an explanation for the comments past.
Mister and Missus Dunlop had a kid, however he came from a bootmakers last.
I will conclude this narration; some will say prose and “Bushy” theme.
If you detect an odor from Downunder, and Gusunder, wash your feet you bastard, VOLLEY© reigns surpreme.
© anybody Australian, john d Farley.
VOLLEYS AND ME; for that matter any self respecting ‘Aussie’. Many people have tried to describe the all encompassing status symbol; I make reference to this “life style” in my web page. No intention was envisaged to make light of the hours of fun derived from wearing my VOLLEYS, in fact you will understand, you don’t wear them they wear you, you become part of their world and abide by their social ramifications.
The Volley has been an AVALON MILKMAN, a FENCING CHAMPION, (I wish), a member of an EMERGENCY ORGANISATION, they have caught many fish; they relish fish guts and scales.
A Volley I know suggested an incredible addition to their tribe; “Cover ME in fish scales, attach bottle tops to my ‘souls’ and I will carry you over rocks to your favorite fishing spot”. They can play squash, and I understand have ventured on to a tennis court and won many titles. They will have notable success in the building industry; they have led our country to great heights in combating the housing shortage.
The Volley is a living thing, and deserves to be treated so, it has a heart and lung of its own. It has its own particular endorphin glands; you will feel yourself being dragged to places against your wish. When the seemingly magnetic attraction abides you become aware of something very strange; if you look down there is all these Volleys with people standing in them.
A Volley is a proud personage. When they are born they arrive into the world in many colors, now isn’t that strange, no it’s not!
Think about it, underneath they are just like you and me, they live and draw breath and deserve to place in society, just like all colored people. They have this need to return to a basic color, washing machines and scrubbing brushes they will not tolerate, they recon we all should be color liberal, and remember Volleys will revolt when any mention of an ‘odor’ is made in their presence. A Volley once told me; “He who complains of a smell ‘down under’ has two options, vote Labor or wash your feet”.
Volleys are a copyright issue, they are intellectual(s) property of Australia, Mr. Dunlop has the father rights, Mrs. Dunlop is the Mother of all Volleys. © john Farley, AKA; johnfarlsbrunz.com, johnfarls.com
ME VOLLEYS.
© john d Farley. 2008
There’s a whimper on me front porch, it’s being goin’ for a while.
Guess it’s time to talk the walk and take in a country mile.
Me dog your wondering? I would do to if I was you, and probably surmise.
But give a minute, three at best and you’ll have a pleasant surr prise.
Yep, I have had me share of man’s best friend, had the pleasure of many a faithful canine.
But the whimper’s not coming from the pooch on the porch; it’s from another stench? (Read staunch), real good friend of mine.
My best friends are made of rubber, the heading gives a clue.
It’s name is real Australiana, ©VOLLEYS is it’s name ©, and no other name will do.
And so I pulls them on and off we goes, we are chatting all the while.
“Remember when we owned the Milk Run, good old Pancho, Avalon Parade.
We braved all weather you and I, had good times us three, no time for life’s charade”.
“Clareville Beach, bloody Torpedoes, spiders and other stuff we went through”.
Can I have the stage, cogitate and disseminate, give a thought or two.
We can’t separate our existence our experiences, and recollections we have been through
Me Volleys and I must offer some info’, in regards to family history, and well this may be.
Your faithful dooorg, your frivolous Pussy, have a life expectancy and that will be.
Me Volleys are one, contectual, they are all encompassing, from one special place they come.
One Mum, one Dad, one son gender changing, like a Seahorse progeny, like, life is goin’ on.
And now I’m in the SES the VOLLEY© legend will live on and please forget the folly.
A ‘deckies’ out of PPE without their precious VOLLEY©.
All that went before concerns close relations, pre-dispatched they are, but in fact there’re free. Me sand shoes are part of me, like Vegemite, Victa and Aborigine.
Losing time and space, your author, an explanation for the comments past.
Mister and Missus Dunlop had a kid, however he came from a bootmakers last.
I will conclude this narration; some will say prose and “Bushy” theme.
If you detect an odor from Downunder, and Gusunder, wash your feet you bastard, VOLLEY© reigns surpreme.
© anybody Australian, john d Farley.
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