Few years ago I was working in the high country, based at Surveyors Creek, a forestry camp where we employed a gang of blokes called Construction and Maintainance crew.
This were (in their words) real 'bushies', could round up 100 wild brumbies and hold them back with one hand while they cut down trees and built pens with the other, ride wild brumbies bareback, punch the crap out of each other after work just for fun, listen to Slim Dusty and enjoy it.
Now this bunch went on strike for two weeks, why? because the dunny paper in the camp was too rough for these bastions of the bush who claimed they would wipe their asre on a gum leaf if need be, but never, never, ever, rough dunny roll.
I should have asked them if they scrunched or folded.
