An old Australian battler lies dying in his bed. He calls over Shirley, his faithful wife of 60 years, and says, "Shirl, when we started out, tried to buy a business in the depression, went bust: you were with me"
"Oh, yes, Bruce", she says.
Then the war started, I joined up, and was sent to the front line, where I lost me legs. You stayed with me."
"Oh yes, Bruce" she says.
"Then, came home, couldn't get a job, due to me disability, and bought a farm."
"Oh, yes, Bruce", she says.
"The farm flooded, then just when we got over that, there was a bushfire, and then the drought, which wiped us right out: you still stayed with me."
"Oh yes, Bruce,"
"Now here I am, in excruiating pain, about to die, useless and you're still with me."
"Yes Bruce."
"Shirl."
"Yes, Bruce?"
"You're bloody bad luck"