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Post by Tamrin on Apr 24, 2009 19:34:36 GMT 10
Some Australian humour:- The bigger the hat, the smaller the farm.
- The shorter the nickname, the more they like you.
- Whether it's the opening of Parliament, or the launch of a new art gallery there is no Australian event that cannot be improved by a sausage sizzle.
- If the guy next to you is swearing like a wharfie he's probably a media billionaire. Or on the other hand, he may be a wharfie.
- There is no food that cannot be improved by the application of tomato sauce.
- On the beach, all Australians hide their keys and wallets by placing them inside their sandshoes. No thief has ever worked this out.
- Industrial design knows of no article more useful than the plastic milk crate.
- All our best heroes are losers. (Shane Warne might just be a case in point)
- The alpha male in any group is he who takes the barbecue tongs from the hands of the host and blithely begins turning the snags.
- It's not summer until the steering wheel is too hot to hold.
- A thong is not a piece of scanty swimwear, as in America, but a fine example of Australian footwear. A group of sheilas wearing black rubber thongs may not be as exciting as you had hoped.
- It is proper to refer to your best friend as "a total bastard". By contrast, your worst enemy is "a bit of a bastard".
- Historians believe the widespread use of the word "mate" can be traced to the harsh conditions on the Australian frontier in the 1890s, and the development of a code of mutual aid, or mateship". Alternatively, Australians may just be really hopeless with names.
- The wise man chooses a partner who is attractive not only to himself, but to the mosquitoes.
- If it can't be fixed with pantyhose and fencing wire, it's not worth fixing.
- The most popular and widely praised family in any street is the one that has the swimming pool.
- It's considered better to be down on your luck than up yourself.
- The phrase "we've got a great lifestyle" means everyone in the family drinks too much.
- If invited to a party, you should take cheap red wine and then spend all night drinking the host's beer. (Don't worry, he'll have catered for it).
- If there's any sort of free event or party within a hundred kilometres, you'd be a mug not to go.
- The phrase "a simple picnic" is not known. You should take everything you own. If you don't need to make three trips back to the car, you're not trying.
- Unless ethnic or a Pom, you are not permitted to sit down in your front yard, or on your front porch.
- Pottering about, gardening or leaning on the fence is acceptable. Just don't sit. That's what back-yards are for.
- The tarred road always ends just after the house of the local mayor.
- On picnics, the Esky is always too small, creating a food versus grog battle that can only ever be solved by leaving the food behind.
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Post by Tamrin on Jun 29, 2009 10:30:03 GMT 10
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Post by Azaziel on Aug 11, 2009 16:35:52 GMT 10
WARNING : ONLY Read This Once You Are Able To LAUGH OUT LOUD.
Hysterics might set in. The writer of this piece paints a very vivid picture...
funny stuff. You will laugh - guaranteed! ENJOY!!
I went to Bunnings recently while not being altogether sure that course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented 'you're definitely going to shit yourself' road-kill chilli. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat it, the next day both of your butt cheeks WILL fall off.
Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No 'Watson's Movement 2'. Despite habanera peppers swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I was unable to create the usual morning symphony referred to by my dear wife as 'thunder and lightning'.
Knowing that a time of reckoning HAD to come, yet not sure of just when, I bravely set off for Bunnings, my quest being paint and supplies to refinish the den. Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart and began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn't until I was at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that the pain hit me.
Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm referring to that 'Uh, Oh, Shit, gotta go' pain that always seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different. The habaneras in the chilli from the night before were staging a revolt. In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring sweet relief, it happened. The peppers fired a warning shot.
There I stood, alone in the paint and stain section, suddenly enveloped in a noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me. Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as a red aproned clerk turned the corner and asked if I needed any help.
I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what his reaction would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate.. Have you ever been torn in two different directions emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of you at least will be able to relate. I could've warned that poor clerk, but didn't. I simply watched as he walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all he could do before gathering his senses and running, was to stand there blinking and waving his arms about his head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh. .......BIG mistake!!!!!
Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things 'clamped down', if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun. Suddenly things were no longer funny. 'It' was coming, and I raced off through the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying that I'd make it before the grand mal assplosion took place.
Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the inevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat because my ass is burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle of what is the true meaning of 'Shock and Awe'. He made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, 'Son-of-a-bitch!, did it smell that bad when you ate it?', then quickly left.
Once finished and I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me and said, 'Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of the problem.'
My smirking of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, 'IT'S YOU!', then ran off returning moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return.
Home again without my supplies, I realized that there was nothing to eat but leftover chilli, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to shop at Lowes. I can't say anymore about that because we are in court over the whole matter.
Bastards claim they're going to have to repaint the store.
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