The bogan does not like public transport. It will, whenever possible, burn the maximum amount of fossil fuels it can in order to get from A to B, occasionally via L. While it has, over the course of the past five or so years, migrated swiftly into newly gentrified inner suburbs, the bogan has brought its deeply held love of driving any distance more than 200 metres with it. As such, despite now living less than five minutes walk from almost every necessary service, the bogan will drive three minutes to the gym to walk on a treadmill for half an hour or lift weights of Warner Brothers-esque proportions. The bogan won’t be seen dead on a train, unless it’s the first train on a Sunday morning, which it can then advertise to its cohorts in an effort to demonstrate its capacity for maxtreme partying. Trams are for latte-sipping poofs. Buses are barely mentioned. But there is one bus, aside from the Vengabus, that no bogan can resist the lure of: the Party Bus.
A mobile bogan convention of epic proportions, the Party Bus (or in the original Latin, Buseus Boganicus) has become the vehicle of choice of partying bogans with short attention spans who cannot afford a stretch Hummer or know too many other bogans to fit in one. The party bus will take the bogans to many, many bogan venues over the course of four hours, charge the bogan great amounts of money for what is in effect a large, smelly taxi. Irregardless, the Bogan Bus is now home to every conceivable bogan celebration. Of which there are three; 21st birthdays, bucks nights and, especially, hens nights. During these sessions, the boguettes will engage in a variety of thrilling activities, from truth or dare games, to pole dancing competitions, to fake orgasm competitions, all guided by their trusty host, Steve.
No one knows where these hosts go during the day, but they appear to be some kind of supra-bogan. It is as if they were once bogans, but have transcended into a state of pure boganic energy, emerging in corporeal form only to guide confused and disoriented bogans around the CBD to ever more seedy bars before popping last year’s designer drug and trying to nail the hen’s best friend/drunkest chick there.
If you encounter a Bogan Bus in the wild, the wisest course of action is not to turn around, not to run. Instead, resist the natural human inclination to flee, and simply back away slowly until you are at a safe distance; at which point you should calmly turn around and take to your heels. Once you’ve gone, the participants in the maxtreme bogan party session will search for Rachael, who was last seen at Velour Bar with the host, before heading off, leaving her to catch the first train home tomorrow morning.