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The Phil Price Limericks
(for Tom Ball)

Extract from The Lovemakers

Reading of the Limericks by Alan Wearne [6.08mb]
Individual sections of the limericks can be downloaded
from the icon at the start of each section.
mp3 players/info (MPEG Audio file) can be found

JPG: Section 1

Section 1 [863k]

Here's one for your textbooks and manuals
From y'Belgraves, y'Black Rocks, y'Banyules:
        This raw livin' ocker
        (A suburban Joe Cocker)
With his carcass preserved in Jack Daniels. 

At twenty, and long out not school,
My rebellion I worked it to rule:
        More likely than not
        In some sheila's cot;
With the rest of my day playing pool.

My first joint was like a spring cleaning
(Combined with a strong dose of weaning)
        For I howled 'This is my dance,
        Vocational guidance!
I now know that life has a meaning!

Just sniff and you'll know what the scent is,
Sign the lease and pay what the rent is!'
        In its unending bender
        The counter agenda
Took young Phil as their latest apprentice.

Some tearaway straight out of 'Neighbours'
Might've rattled riskier sabres,
        But the life that I lead
        As this dealer and head
Seemed the ultimate laid back in labours.
JPG: Section 2

Section 2 [337kb]

With her temper part sunny, part shady,
I'd this girl friend, Colleen O'Grady,
        And with little rehearsin'
        Here's the uncensored version
Of what I might tell the old lady:

All chances of marriage are nil, Ma.
Though it helps that Colleen's on the pill, Ma.
        Sure with fine hash to zap us
        We fuck like the clappers!
But I'll never play Fred to her Wilma!
JPG: Section 3

Section 3 [746kb]

When some hyperheads moved in and stayed,
And giggled for weeks, I was made.
        No umms and no errs
        From these dope connoisseurs
With the best words I'd get in the trade:

'For a drug that can turn on the svelte,
This sure gives the neurones a belt.'
        But temper all rumours,
        I'd advise my consumers,
Sure I've sold, but I wouldn't say dealt.

Though it's hardly like running The Lido
Please appreciate this as my credo:
        For a pragmatic fellow,
        Whose business is mellow,
You better believe that I need dough.

So calling all Kylies 'n' Jasons!
I've advice if you're into negations:

        Hail fellow, well met,
        Phil can't hack regret,
Try it once: see the end of his patience.

For no matter how good the do-gooder
Don't tell him next day Gee we shoulda. 
        And thus I'd appeal
        To the hippy genteel,
With their preference for Nepalese Buddha.
JPG: Section 4

Section 4 [1.27mb]

I was raised in a hard-nosed yet wry way,
By a family Doin' it my way
        (Not much to perturb ya
        In outer suburbia)
A mile or two up from the highway.

Now there may've been wealthier climes,
Like Toorak with its Baillieus and Symes,
        But all deals came up aces
        In this best of all places,
In the best of all possible times.

So when Fortune meets Dad he's assessed
And installed, pretty much, as her guest.
        Whole streets dip there lids
        To his wife and five kids.
Few North Ringwood lives seem as blessed.

For this dyed-in-the-wool Liberal voter
Ran a branch of Real Livin' Toyota.
        Would've swum in the Styx
        For that company's pricks.
Pay dues? Why not triple his quota!

Well he may know what conjugal love is,
But in corporate terms count him a novice;
        Dad's no Arvi Parbo
        But one Friday arvo
They invite him to drinks at head office.

First this heart-to-heart veered, then it tacked.
How they speak? Well they more likely quacked.
        With their buzz-word 'retrench'
        Came this mealy-mouthed stench:
Since none had the guts to say 'sacked'.

Then as hookers hear cost-cutting johns,
(Like the Pies when they've lost to the Dons)
        An increasingly bolden
        'Ummmour handshake's not golden
So glad you've a preference for bronze.'

Being loyal can't come within cooee
Of such hypocritical phooey 
        So Dad slept and drank,
        And fished at Cape Schank.
It was then that my life did a u-ee.
JPG: Section 5

Section 5 [1.65mb]

It's his seventh night straight on the hops,
And your hero is tanked to the chops.
        Fee fi fo and fum
        Well he's bearing his bum
To a couple of off duty cops.

Now they raised us no hint of a hoot
This double act Smart Arse'n' Brute,
        With their civil, sarcastic, 
        'Your backside's fantastic
Care if we open the boot?'

You know cops: who can tell how they sussed it?
Still Phil's not the bunny that's flustered.
        'Cause ha bloody ha
        It isn't my car.
And some other prick's getting busted.

Whilst I stammered 'But but but but but'
My Dad had collapsed in a Phut!
        Sobbing 'Exquisite! How nice!
        A son who does brown eyes!
My favorite has turned out a mutt!'

He'd a certain municipal clout,
Whose muscle lay hardly in doubt
        But like pies on a pie night
        Even patience turns finite,
And the old man quit bailing me out.

By Tuesday I still had the shakes,
With the usual elephants, snakes;
        More dickhead than criminal
        (Though with sympathy minimal)
And them is (you'll gather) the breaks.

You can almost give thanks to the saviour
For the warning the magistrate gave ya.
        But it's not so appealing
        With a mate up for dealing
Whilst you cop offensive behviour.

If I fancied myself quite a martyr,
I was shunned like a twelve yearold farter.
        They get pretty dicey
        Relations with Pricey
Don't you know he's persona non grata?

At a party, if they needed proof
I'd over-played acting the goof,
        Being there at my peril
        (Ex-mates had turned feral)
I yelled, climbing onto the roof:

'I'm a fraud in all shades of yellers,
With the Von Danikens and the Gellers!
        No wonder you're sulkin',
        My stash in his Falcon!
But trust us againwill yafellas?

Ahh suck on your Winfield or Camel
Since you're adult you're male and you're mammal.
        But why get the hots
        For a half dozen pots
When there's acid, there's coke and there's amyl?

I'm from Hicksville? Well you're twice as hicker.
If I'm thick you're decidedly thicker:
        All primed round a keg
        Like a cartoon by Weg,
Pie-eyed and gulping down liquor!'
JPG: Section 6 / 7

Section 6 [1.24mb]

Though I'm not into small poppy lopping
I had glimpsed this here vista unstopping:
        Its ridges and valleys
        Were quiz nights, car rallies,
The odd barbecue and wife swapping.

And some post coital Gee Phil yer grouse
May not rate in the mainstream of vows;
        But at my most beery
        Came this domino theory:
She's your girlfriend,
                          and spouse.

After that there's the future I'm facin':
With our two kids Melissa 'n' Jayson.
        Though we've done the hard yards
        There's divorce on the cards;
Either that or we move to The Basin.

And if dealing can bring in some bucks,
As vocation it's hardly deluxe.
        With less grams than you think
        One can end in the clink.
That's bloody hard work and it sucks!

After living with ulcers and stealth
(If you still ask What kudos? What wealth?)
        My advice to young dealers,
        Be they fellas or sheilas,
Is please remain true to yourself.

Just see your way through any quarrel
With a straight bat like Benaud or Worrell.
        And down-play heroics
        Like dinky-di stoics.
Now I bet you're expecting a moral. 
JPG: Section 6 / 7

Section 7 [included in section 6 MP3]

Well it's give up the bong and carafe
Or finish like Sylvia Plath.
     You saw me quit whoring
     (Even sex became boring)
I dried out, and then joined the RAAF!
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