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Axel

Are Aussies Really So Bad?

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WE, the people of the broad brown land of Oz, wish to be recognised as a

free nation of blokes, sheilas and the occasional ######. We come from

many lands (although a few too many of us come from New Zealand) and

although we live in the best country in the world, we reserve the right to

bitch and moan about it whenever we bloody like.

We are One Nation but we're divided into many States. First, there's

Victoria, named after a queen who didn't believe in lesbians. Victoria is

the realm of Mossimo turtlenecks, cafe latte, grand final day and big

horse races. Its capital is Melbourne, whose chief marketing pitch is that

"it's liveable". At least that's what they think. The rest of us think it

is too bloody cold and wet.

Next, there's NSW, the realm of pastel shorts, macchiato with sugar ,thin

books read quickly and millions of dancing queens. Its capital Sydney has

more queens than any other city in the world and is proud of it. Its

mascots are Bondi lifesavers who pull their Speedos up their cracks to

keep the left and right sides of their brains separate.

Down south we have Tasmania, a State based on the notion that the family

that bonks together stays together. In Tassie, everyone gets an extra

chromosome at conception. Maps of the State bring smiles to the sternest

faces. It holds the world record for a single mass shooting, which the

Yanks can't seem to beat no matter how often they try.

South Australia is the province of half-decent reds, a festival of

foreigners and bizarre axe murders. SA is the state of innovation. Where

else can you so effectively reuse country bank vaults and barrels as in

Snowtown, just out of Adelaide (also named after a queen). They had the

Grand Prix, but lost it when the views of Adelaide sent the Formula One

drivers to sleep at the wheel.

Western Australia is too far from anywhere to be relevant. It's main claim

to fame is that it doesn't have daylight saving because if it did, all the

men would get erections on the bus on the way to work. WA was the last

state to stop importing convicts and many of them still work there in the

government and business.

The Northern Territory is the red heart of our land. Outback plains, sheep

stations the size of Europe, Kangaroos, Jackaroos, Emus, Uluru and dusty

kids with big smiles. It also has the highest beer consumption of anywhere

on the planet and its creek beds have the highest aluminium content of

anywhere too. Although the Territory is the centre piece of our national

culture, few of us live there and the rest prefer to fly over it on our

way to Bali.

And there's Queensland. While any mention of God seems silly in a document

defining a nation of half-arsed sceptics, it is worth noting that God

probably made Queensland as its beautiful one day and perfect the next??

Why he filled it with dickheads remains a mystery.

Oh yes and there's Canberra. The least said the better.

We, the citizens of Oz, are united by Highways, whose treacherous twists

and turns kill more of us each year than murderers. We are united in our

lust for international recognition, so desperate for praise we leap in joy

when a rag tag gaggle of corrupt IOC officials tells us Sydney is better

than Beijing. We are united by a democracy so flawed that a political

party, albeit a redneck gun-toting one, can get a million votes and still

not win one seat in Federal Parliament. Not that we're whingeing, we leave

that to our Pommy immigrants.

We want to make "no worries mate" our national phrase, "she'll be right

mate" our national attitude and "Waltzing Matilda" our national anthem (So

what if it's about a sheep-stealing crim who commits suicide). We love

sport so much our news readers can read the death toll from a sailing race

and still tell us who's winning. And we're the best in the world at all

the sports that count, like cricket, netball, rugby, AFL, roo-shooting,

two-up and horse racing. We also have the biggest rock, the tastiest pies,

the blackest aborigines and the worst-dressed Olympians in the known

universe.

We shoot, we root, we vote. We are girt by sea and pissed by lunchtime.

Even though we might seem a racist, closed-minded, sports-obsessed little

people, at least we feel better for it.

You are, I am, we are Australian.

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I could do with an emu 'ow 'bout you? ooh aah, I could do with the taste as big as the state in which we live, I could do with an emu 'ow 'bout you!

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Brilliant! :D

I wonder if anyone can translate it for the Septic Tanks & Thais? :o

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Excellent,

My kid has to do a report on the Land Down Under,

This will do nicely, Thanx, :o

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And who dares to say we have no national pride? :o

Brilliant!!! :D

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WE, the people of the broad brown land of Oz, wish to be recognised as a

free nation of blokes, sheilas and the occasional ######. We come from

many lands (although a few too many of us come from New Zealand) and

although we live in the best country in the world, we reserve the right to

bitch and moan about it whenever we bloody like.

We are One Nation but we're divided into many States. First, there's

Victoria, named after a queen who didn't believe in lesbians. Victoria is

the realm of Mossimo turtlenecks, cafe latte, grand final day and big

horse races. Its capital is Melbourne, whose chief marketing pitch is that

"it's liveable". At least that's what they think. The rest of us think it

is too bloody cold and wet.

Next, there's NSW, the realm of pastel shorts, macchiato with sugar ,thin

books read quickly and millions of dancing queens. Its capital Sydney has

more queens than any other city in the world and is proud of it. Its

mascots are Bondi lifesavers who pull their Speedos up their cracks to

keep the left and right sides of their brains separate.

Down south we have Tasmania, a State based on the notion that the family

that bonks together stays together. In Tassie, everyone gets an extra

chromosome at conception. Maps of the State bring smiles to the sternest

faces. It holds the world record for a single mass shooting, which the

Yanks can't seem to beat no matter how often they try.

South Australia is the province of half-decent reds, a festival of

foreigners and bizarre axe murders. SA is the state of innovation. Where

else can you so effectively reuse country bank vaults and barrels as in

Snowtown, just out of Adelaide (also named after a queen). They had the

Grand Prix, but lost it when the views of Adelaide sent the Formula One

drivers to sleep at the wheel.

Western Australia is too far from anywhere to be relevant. It's main claim

to fame is that it doesn't have daylight saving because if it did, all the

men would get erections on the bus on the way to work. WA was the last

state to stop importing convicts and many of them still work there in the

government and business.

The Northern Territory is the red heart of our land. Outback plains, sheep

stations the size of Europe, Kangaroos, Jackaroos, Emus, Uluru and dusty

kids with big smiles. It also has the highest beer consumption of anywhere

on the planet and its creek beds have the highest aluminium content of

anywhere too. Although the Territory is the centre piece of our national

culture, few of us live there and the rest prefer to fly over it on our

way to Bali.

And there's Queensland. While any mention of God seems silly in a document

defining a nation of half-arsed sceptics, it is worth noting that God

probably made Queensland as its beautiful one day and perfect the next??

Why he filled it with dickheads remains a mystery.

Oh yes and there's Canberra. The least said the better.

We, the citizens of Oz, are united by Highways, whose treacherous twists

and turns kill more of us each year than murderers. We are united in our

lust for international recognition, so desperate for praise we leap in joy

when a rag tag gaggle of corrupt IOC officials tells us Sydney is better

than Beijing. We are united by a democracy so flawed that a political

party, albeit a redneck gun-toting one, can get a million votes and still

not win one seat in Federal Parliament. Not that we're whingeing, we leave

that to our Pommy immigrants.

We want to make "no worries mate" our national phrase, "she'll be right

mate" our national attitude and "Waltzing Matilda" our national anthem (So

what if it's about a sheep-stealing crim who commits suicide). We love

sport so much our news readers can read the death toll from a sailing race

and still tell us who's winning. And we're the best in the world at all

the sports that count, like cricket, netball, rugby, AFL, roo-shooting,

two-up and horse racing. We also have the biggest rock, the tastiest pies,

the blackest aborigines and the worst-dressed Olympians in the known

universe.

We shoot, we root, we vote. We are girt by sea and pissed by lunchtime.

Even though we might seem a racist, closed-minded, sports-obsessed little

people, at least we feel better for it.

You are, I am, we are Australian.

There should be a ThaiVisa award for you Axel ... that was good :o

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This is from the 70's .......

The Australian Table Wines sketch From Monty Python

A lot of people in this country pooh-pooh Australian table wines. This is a

pity, as many fine Australian wines appeal not only to the Australian palette,

but also to the cognoscenti of Great Britain.

"Black Stump Bordeaux" is rightly praised as a peppermint flavoured

Burgundy, whilst a good "Sydney Syrup" can rank with any of the world's

best sugary wines.

"Chateau Bleu", too, has won many prizes; not least for its taste, and

its lingering afterburn.

"Old Smokey, 1968" has been compared favourably to a Welsh claret,

whilst the Australian wino society thouroughly recommends a 1970 "Coq du

Rod Laver", which, believe me, has a kick on it like a mule: 8 bottles

of this, and you're really finished -- at the opening of the Sydney

Bridge Club, they were fishing them out of the main sewers every half an

hour.

Of the sparkling wines, the most famous is "Perth Pink". This is a

bottle with a message in, and the message is BEWARE!. This is not a

wine for drinking -- this is a wine for laying down and avoiding.

Another good fighting wine is "Melbourne Old-and-Yellow", which is

particularly heavy, and should be used only for hand-to-hand combat.

Quite the reverse is true of "Chateau Chunder", which is an Appelachian

controle, specially grown for those keen on regurgitation -- a fine wine

which really opens up the sluices at both ends.

Real emetic fans will also go for a "Hobart Muddy", and a prize winning

"Cuiver Reserve Chateau Bottled Nuit San Wagga Wagga", which has a

bouquet like an aborigine's armpit.

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erm, you forgot to mention Wallaby White and Kanga Rouge!

Two of our best exports..... :o

(apart from Sir Les Paterson, a distant relo of our esteemed Ambassador in BKK)

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This is from the 70's .......

The Australian Table Wines sketch From Monty Python

A lot of people in this country pooh-pooh Australian table wines.  This is a

pity, as many fine Australian wines appeal not only to the Australian palette,

but also to the cognoscenti of Great Britain.

"Black Stump Bordeaux" is rightly praised as a peppermint flavoured

Burgundy, whilst a good "Sydney Syrup" can rank with any of the world's

best sugary wines.

"Chateau Bleu", too, has won many prizes; not least for its taste, and

its lingering afterburn.

"Old Smokey, 1968" has been compared favourably to a Welsh claret,

whilst the Australian wino society thouroughly recommends a 1970 "Coq du

Rod Laver", which, believe me, has a kick on it like a mule:  8 bottles

of this, and you're really finished -- at the opening of the Sydney

Bridge Club, they were fishing them out of the main sewers every half an

hour.

Of the sparkling wines, the most famous is "Perth Pink".  This is a

bottle with a message in, and the message is BEWARE!.  This is not a

wine for drinking -- this is a wine for laying down and avoiding.

Another good fighting wine is "Melbourne Old-and-Yellow", which is

particularly heavy, and should be used only for hand-to-hand combat.

Quite the reverse is true of "Chateau Chunder", which is an Appelachian

controle, specially grown for those keen on regurgitation -- a fine wine

which really opens up the sluices at both ends.

Real emetic fans will also go for a "Hobart Muddy", and a prize winning

"Cuiver Reserve Chateau Bottled Nuit San Wagga Wagga", which has a

bouquet like an aborigine's armpit.

Chateau Cardboard aka two buck chuck was also a well known breed of ' fine ' Australian wine ( Around the world for little money ... same same Mekong :o )

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WE, the people of the broad brown land of Oz, wish to be recognised as a

free nation of blokes, sheilas and the occasional ######. We come from

many lands (although a few too many of us come from New Zealand) and

although we live in the best country in the world, we reserve the right to

bitch and moan about it whenever we bloody like.

We are One Nation but we're divided into many States. First, there's

Victoria, named after a queen who didn't believe in lesbians. Victoria is

the realm of Mossimo turtlenecks, cafe latte, grand final day and big

horse races. Its capital is Melbourne, whose chief marketing pitch is that

"it's liveable". At least that's what they think. The rest of us think it

is too bloody cold and wet.

Next, there's NSW, the realm of pastel shorts, macchiato with sugar ,thin

books read quickly and millions of dancing queens. Its capital Sydney has

more queens than any other city in the world and is proud of it. Its

mascots are Bondi lifesavers who pull their Speedos up their cracks to

keep the left and right sides of their brains separate.

Down south we have Tasmania, a State based on the notion that the family

that bonks together stays together. In Tassie, everyone gets an extra

chromosome at conception. Maps of the State bring smiles to the sternest

faces. It holds the world record for a single mass shooting, which the

Yanks can't seem to beat no matter how often they try.

South Australia is the province of half-decent reds, a festival of

foreigners and bizarre axe murders. SA is the state of innovation. Where

else can you so effectively reuse country bank vaults and barrels as in

Snowtown, just out of Adelaide (also named after a queen). They had the

Grand Prix, but lost it when the views of Adelaide sent the Formula One

drivers to sleep at the wheel.

Western Australia is too far from anywhere to be relevant. It's main claim

to fame is that it doesn't have daylight saving because if it did, all the

men would get erections on the bus on the way to work. WA was the last

state to stop importing convicts and many of them still work there in the

government and business.

The Northern Territory is the red heart of our land. Outback plains, sheep

stations the size of Europe, Kangaroos, Jackaroos, Emus, Uluru and dusty

kids with big smiles. It also has the highest beer consumption of anywhere

on the planet and its creek beds have the highest aluminium content of

anywhere too. Although the Territory is the centre piece of our national

culture, few of us live there and the rest prefer to fly over it on our

way to Bali.

And there's Queensland. While any mention of God seems silly in a document

defining a nation of half-arsed sceptics, it is worth noting that God

probably made Queensland as its beautiful one day and perfect the next??

Why he filled it with dickheads remains a mystery.

Oh yes and there's Canberra. The least said the better.

We, the citizens of Oz, are united by Highways, whose treacherous twists

and turns kill more of us each year than murderers. We are united in our

lust for international recognition, so desperate for praise we leap in joy

when a rag tag gaggle of corrupt IOC officials tells us Sydney is better

than Beijing. We are united by a democracy so flawed that a political

party, albeit a redneck gun-toting one, can get a million votes and still

not win one seat in Federal Parliament. Not that we're whingeing, we leave

that to our Pommy immigrants.

We want to make "no worries mate" our national phrase, "she'll be right

mate" our national attitude and "Waltzing Matilda" our national anthem (So

what if it's about a sheep-stealing crim who commits suicide). We love

sport so much our news readers can read the death toll from a sailing race

and still tell us who's winning. And we're the best in the world at all

the sports that count, like cricket, netball, rugby, AFL, roo-shooting,

two-up and horse racing. We also have the biggest rock, the tastiest pies,

the blackest aborigines and the worst-dressed Olympians in the known

universe.

We shoot, we root, we vote. We are girt by sea and pissed by lunchtime.

Even though we might seem a racist, closed-minded, sports-obsessed little

people, at least we feel better for it.

You are, I am, we are Australian.

throw in the aussies, brits, dago's, <deleted>, russians, yanks, plus you name it, and it sounds like thailand in the making :o

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This is from the 70's .......

The Australian Table Wines sketch From Monty Python

A lot of people in this country pooh-pooh Australian table wines.  This is a

pity, as many fine Australian wines appeal not only to the Australian palette,

but also to the cognoscenti of Great Britain.

"Black Stump Bordeaux" is rightly praised as a peppermint flavoured

Burgundy, whilst a good "Sydney Syrup" can rank with any of the world's

best sugary wines.

"Chateau Bleu", too, has won many prizes; not least for its taste, and

its lingering afterburn.

"Old Smokey, 1968" has been compared favourably to a Welsh claret,

whilst the Australian wino society thouroughly recommends a 1970 "Coq du

Rod Laver", which, believe me, has a kick on it like a mule:  8 bottles

of this, and you're really finished -- at the opening of the Sydney

Bridge Club, they were fishing them out of the main sewers every half an

hour.

Of the sparkling wines, the most famous is "Perth Pink".  This is a

bottle with a message in, and the message is BEWARE!.  This is not a

wine for drinking -- this is a wine for laying down and avoiding.

Another good fighting wine is "Melbourne Old-and-Yellow", which is

particularly heavy, and should be used only for hand-to-hand combat.

Quite the reverse is true of "Chateau Chunder", which is an Appelachian

controle, specially grown for those keen on regurgitation -- a fine wine

which really opens up the sluices at both ends.

Real emetic fans will also go for a "Hobart Muddy", and a prize winning

"Cuiver Reserve Chateau Bottled Nuit San Wagga Wagga", which has a

bouquet like an aborigine's armpit.

Chateau Cardboard aka two buck chuck was also a well known breed of ' fine ' Australian wine ( Around the world for little money ... same same Mekong :o )

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