Thread: Educate me on bushpigs

Back in the day the salty old bastards in Mt Isa QLD taught me not to pass up on the occasional bush pig, cos the slighty ugly girls tried that much harder and would probably teach me a thing or two. They did. When I came to NZ some 20 yrs later imagine my confusion when I overheard blokes in the pub openly talking about their bush pigs, how handy they were in the tight stuff, how the speed wasn’t quite there but they still hit hard. This, I thought, is concerning. Luckily all was revealed, but I have chosen not to adopt the term, as it takes me back to times and places best archived permanently... so carbine it is.