Chapter 1: What is the main topic discussed in this episode?
The amount of times you wipe your backside, it's almost like doing braille.
Chapter 2: What war story involves Thai Green Curry?
You're getting a lifetime of wiping your bum hole. How are Snipers? This is Not For Radio. We are your hosts, Duncan Hyde, Jay Reeve. Caution, this podcast will contain some swearing. It's a hell of a podcast today. Have you ever wondered what a seagull tastes like, what Benny Boy's arsehole looks like, or how far you can push the hucker?
Chapter 3: What are the things you've never seen?
We've got it for you in the episode today. That's a pretty good tease. Also, how to turn a human into a transistor radio. Like, holy heck. It's a bit on. So enjoy the podcast. It's good to have you back for another week for those that aren't sniper elite.
Chapter 4: What does seagull tasting reveal about culinary experiences?
This episode of Not For Radio is brought to you by Classic Builders. They've been building homes for 30 years for Kiwis. National muscle with local tradies who actually know your patch.
Chapter 5: What is the significance of Haka etiquette?
Attention, snipers! Gear up and hold your positions. It's time to load up some war stories. Your tales from the frontline, brought to life.
Chapter 6: How do South African U21s perform in rugby?
Prepare to fire. This is from anonymous.
Chapter 7: What are peptides and their uses?
So about 10 years ago, I was working for a massive corporate company as a regional manager in southwestern Queensland. New South Wales was in the midst of a massive three, four-year drought. The place was fucked. Then to add some more pain in an already fucked situation, a huge bushfire ripped through the northern tablelands and really fucked the joint.
Chapter 8: What is the Coin of Destiny and how does it work?
Wow.
Due to this, some staff couldn't get to one of our sister company's branches, so I was asked to head out there for a few days to cover the staff shortage. Travelling out there, it was evident just how bad the drought was. You see it on the news and you hear it on the radio, but nothing gives you a real perspective until you actually get amongst it. Anywho...
The first day was mostly uneventful, a couple of deliveries and a nice lunch from the local tyre joint then off to my motel for the night. I hadn't checked in. I still find it. This is one of the things that fascinates me, is the international cuisine that can be found in the middle of fucking nowhere.
Oh, come on in and enjoy some Himalayan fare in a town that's fucking 3,000 kilometres from anywhere. I had it checked in as I got to the town around 6am, so I had to check in after we shut the shop. Around 5pm I was driving out to my accommodation and felt a stab in my guts. Hmm, that's odd. Didn't last long, so I soldiered on. Found my motel.
It was a nice little country motor in on the edge of town. You know the type. Hills have eyes, but fucking not too bad. I parked, got out of the car and went to the head office. Scan the room. Scan the room for RFD fucking signals. When the old stabby feeling was back, this time it wasn't leaving.
It was at this point I was regretting having Thai green curries 880km from the ocean, the fresh prawns, and the fact that Thailand is as far away from this little town on the edge of the outback should have set some alarm bells off. I slammed my knees together and I walked into the office. By this stage, I could only walk from the knees down.
as I had from my knees to my arse completely locked down. I gingerly got to the front desk and told them my name. No sorry sir, due to the fires we've had to put you up in a bed and breakfast out of town. The motel owner had a little granny flat out the back of his house and that's where they stuck me. My boss had failed to mention this. So I had to pick up my bags very cautiously.
while still maintaining that I was clenching everything as I moved and walked back to my car. I wish I had footage as I was walking like I was in a limbo contest and on a tightrope at the same time. I slowly slid back in my car and had to follow the owner out of town. I cannot stress enough the situation unfolding in my stomach. It can only be described as catastrophic.
I lowered the seat as low as I could. hands to soak and still see the road to ease the pressure. By this stage, I was sweating like a nun in a cucumber patch. We finally got to the flat and I was a fucking mess. I couldn't speak, blink, walk or breathe. I was fucked. The lovely man opens the door and we were both hit by a stench that almost knocked us over.
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