SHEARING
It's sheep shearing season in Australia. In Victoria, a sheep shearing station starts hiring shearers to handle the extra volume. They come from all around Australia, from Queensland, from Victoria, from the Northern Territories, even from New South Wales. It just so happened that one of the new shearers was from New Zealand, and was obviously the object of much teasing from the Australians, being the only Kiwi and all.
Anyway, despite this, the Kiwi was handling the job excellently, getting through his quota every day and fitting in quite nicely.
One day, however, the supervisor was walking around the station at night, after everyone else had long packed up and gone to the pub. He noticed a light on in one of the sheds, and, slowly opening the door looked inside. There he saw the New Zealander, fucking one of the ewes, pumping away hard, sweaty, red in the face and clearly having a good time.
Slightly taken aback at this behaviour, but not too shocked, the supervisor says "Look mate, that's all wrong, you're supposed to shear 'em."
The New Zealander looks up, a bit annoyed at being disturbed and replies "Look mate, Oi'm not shearing this wath anywoon!"
