to chunder means to throw up
 

Thursday night is bin night.

Friday mornings I open the gates and bring the bins in at about 6.45ish when I head off to work.

This morning one of the green wheely bins was partly covered in a film of iced coffee and there was maybe half a centimetre in the bottom of the bin too.

I brought the bins in and tipped out the iced coffee. Some got on my shoe and a bit on my hand while I did this.

I wiped the iced coffee off my shoe and hand.

I drove off and about 500 metres down the road was an old hobo cobber of mine that I sometimes talk to as he wanders past the house. He is a bit mentally unwell and lives in a park up the road.

His hair is all matted and his beard looks like it has dreadlocks in it. His clothes are sort of shiny as they are so dirty. He likes to talk to me about cars and sometimes says something almost sensible.

Anyway, about 500 metres up the street I saw he was chundering into someone's wheely bin and kinda waving his arms around while he was doing it.

I guess that explains the random pattern of what I thought was iced coffee on and in my bin. And on my shoe. And my hand.

So that was my morning.

I guess your day was just a little better than the hobo. Not much but a little.

I want to read the hobo cobber's post about his Friday morning, about throwing up on all the garbage cans and then watching the "rich folk" getting his chunder on their clothes and hands. DO you know what forums he frequents?

Excellent thread on all parts. Thanks guys.

The hobo didn't have to go to work and have a large chunk of his paycheck taken away and given to hobos.
The grass is always greener.

Sorry 'mate, I'll try not to let it happen again.

Aqualung is a cobber of yours?

Folklore has it that the word ‘chunder’ comes from Australia’s early settlement and convict days.

Prisoners sentenced to be ‘transported’ to Australia would allegedly shout out ‘watch out under’ from higher bunks on the convict ships when they threw up during the voyage from Britain to Australia.

This, it is said, was shortened to ‘chunder’.

PS I make no judgment of my hobo cobber. I suspect he has a long story he could tell about how/why he is how he is. In fact, being self employed, fear of ending up like him makes me work 12 hour days and leave at 6.45am. I should add, he seems quite happy so who is the fool ... me or him ?

PPS I have been in my office for an hour and a half now and think I can smell chunder

I can kind of smell it too.

They don't charge taxes deep in the Amazon. Great fishing too, I hear. ;)