Across the River with Geoff Goodfellow | September 13

"FIVE weeks it's been since you've included a Dudley story Geoffrey," said an old mate when I bumped him in the street last weekend, going on to say, "If there isn't one next week then I won't buy the bloody paper on Wednesday."

I am guessing he reckons the rest of the stuff I write is rubbish and he wouldn't bother reading my column if it wasn't for Dudley. Don't blame him really.

Well, the good news is Dudley is back home after a couple of weeks out west and he has told me a some yarns about a few old mates he caught up with at local pubs out there.

So let's share some of these stories with you.

DUDLEY'S first encounter at the pub was with his old school mate Eric, who told him that a few weeks ago his wife didn't come home one night, claiming she had stayed with one of her girlfriends after having a bit too many bubbles.

Eric didn't believe his good wife so phoned her 10 best friends, each one saying, no, she hadn’t stayed with her.

The next weekend Eric didn’t come home one night and told his wife he’d been too drunk to drive so stayed with a mate.

Naturally she didn't believe him and immediately jumped on the phone to ring 10 of his mates. 

"And that's the difference between men and women," said Eric with a smile.

"Apparently eight said I had stayed with them and two claimed I was still at their place."

INSPIRATIONAL: A country pub out west is where Dudley goes when he needs a few new yarns. Photo: Geoff Goodfellow.

INSPIRATIONAL: A country pub out west is where Dudley goes when he needs a few new yarns. Photo: Geoff Goodfellow.

NEXT he had a beer with Simon, who had moved out west to run a nursing home for the bewildered. Dudley asked how they decided if a patient should be institutionalised.  

“It’s not really rocket science, Dudley,” said Simon.

“We fill up a bathtub, then we offer a teaspoon, a teacup and a bucket to the patient and ask him or her to empty the bathtub."

"Oh, I understand," said Dudley. "A normal person would use the bucket because it’s quicker, I guess.”

"No Dudley, a normal person would pull out the plug,” said Simon.  

“Would you like a bed near the toilets or one with a nice view, mate?"

TRAVELLING along a lonely dirt road out the back of Trangie, Dudley noticed he had a flat tyre.

“Bugger, a flamin’ puncture,” said Dudley inspecting the damage.

“Not surprising I guess,” he muttered to himself. “That old bloke at the garage back there warned me to look out for a fork in the road about here.”

“I DIDN'T sleep with my wife before I was married,” said the local vicar, who was having a beer with Dudley and his mates as the conversation drifted to chastity and promiscuity. 

“What about you, Dudley, did you?” asked the vicar.

“Dunno mate, could’ve,” he drawled contemplatively. 

“What was her maiden name?”

DUDLEY'S old school mate Don was the local doctor and when they were having a beer he grabbed a piece of paper to write down a phone number.  The doctor instinctively reached into his top pocket, pulled out a rectal thermometer and tried to write with it. He looked up at Dudley, paused for a moment, then realised his mistake.

“Well, that's great, just great, isn’t it Dudley,” he stammered. “Some bum’s got my pen!"

"I JUST walked out on my wife,” announced Kevin as he came into the pub to celebrate.

“How did she take it?” asked Dudley.

“It’s funny,” said Kevin, “but you live with someone for years and you never really know them, do you?”

“What do you mean?” asked Dudley.

“I had no bloody idea she could sing and turn cartwheels at the same time.”

NOW after that dose of Dudley let's hope my old mate I bumped in the street last weekend continues to buy this newspaper on Wednesdays.

 – Geoff Goodfellow