Quick.
It’s like finding out those women in the creek bed in Kangaroo Flat had stuffed nuggets of gold in their under garments.
Pack the bags.
Sell the farm.
Head north good friend for riches.
Barb’s Mixed Business in Epsom has a few can of that crappy boiled lolly people sought out, like they sort giant turtles in the early 1900s.
Rare, and good to eat.
But honestly, Castlemaine Rock tastes yuck.
It’s the worst thing to come out of Castlemaine since that unearthed high song.
We’re fans of the young rap kid here.
Other Castlemaine is alright.
They never supported our stand-up gigs there, but that’s ok.
We don’t hold grudges.
Much.
PS: Luke aims to do some stand-up there soon. ‘carn come along. Take note for later.
