tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20800950.post114489408998868571..comments2024-02-11T09:30:14.251+08:00Comments on The Perth Files: Bull ants, 'boondies', bogans and bore water...Freocooksterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02193077320954807218noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20800950.post-17163049975560520782012-04-13T00:51:20.063+08:002012-04-13T00:51:20.063+08:00Ha, you used part of my Urban Dictionary definitio...Ha, you used part of my Urban Dictionary definition of Boondie. Awesome! Yes, how cool were Boondie fights (the 'oon' making an 'un' sound)? While living in Nollamara -'74 - I remember our entire street once getting 'yellow sand' delivered for lawns. It was all out war, at least until our Dads got round to spreading out the sand.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20800950.post-88789445553940997172008-02-05T19:12:00.000+09:002008-02-05T19:12:00.000+09:00Ahh, the good old boondie fight...now that takes m...Ahh, the good old boondie fight...now that takes me back to my childhood. I'll give you a quick rundown...<BR/><BR/>I grew up next door to an aboriginal family in the eastern suburbs of Perth and there were two brothers, one my age and one a year and one day older than his brother. In the course of our day, in between kicking the ol' pill down at the local reserve & pretending to be one of the local WAFL footy legends of the day eg, Ron "The Roo Dog" Boucher, "Basil" Campbell or Phil "Magic" Narkle, if we found one of those great mounds of yellow sand it was like Christmas, Easter and the WAFL grand Final all rolled into one! <BR/><BR/>The unwritten rule was: ONE MINUTE TO GET AS MANY BOONDIES AS YOU CAN AND THEN IT WAS ON! The trick was to get as many massive boondies as you could and break them down to smaller, more manageable ammo during the course of the ensuing battle. If you were unlucky enough to cop a rock or wear one in the eye, tough luck. In fact it was deemed to be the height of humour at that point in our lives. <BR/><BR/>We even had a guy that went to the same school as us and his nickname was Boondie because his last name was Stone. I wonder what ever happened to him? Did the pressure of society turn him into a diamond or did he succumb to the elements of adulthood and slowly erode away? <BR/><BR/>Oh yeah... me and my two aboriginal friends grew up and became bogans. One of them still has a mullet.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20800950.post-1146770811718048652006-05-05T03:26:00.000+08:002006-05-05T03:26:00.000+08:00Aahh - boondies - I thought maybe I imagined these...Aahh - boondies - I thought maybe I imagined these. :)<BR/><BR/>The best fun was when someone in the street was building something and there was a boondie mountain to hang out on - with all the rest of the kids from the neighbourhood. I remember they mostly stayed in place for years - until they were gracefully eroded away - don't remeber them ever being put to serious use in fact<BR/><BR/>annieAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20800950.post-1145419007335697212006-04-19T11:56:00.000+08:002006-04-19T11:56:00.000+08:00Very nice! It appears you're the victim of a spamm...Very nice! It appears you're the victim of a spammer. Reminds me of the first time my comments were graced by Mr. anonymous. I didn't know whether to be annoyed, or gratified that someone, somewhere was aware of my blog's existence. <BR/><BR/>As kids we found other uses for the sand that constitutes "sand boodies" than the manufacture of projectiles. It was also great for making marble tunnels and car cities--like having wet beach sand in your own backyard. (Unfortunately, as we would discover from time to time, local cats had their own uses for this sand, too.)Arthur_Vandelayhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00659697967914477025noreply@blogger.com