The bogan knows that it was born to see the world. From the first, second, and third times it went to Hollywood on the Gold Coast, it instantly knew that it was a born traveller. It is for this reason that the bogan will tell you that it wants to see the Pyramids. Eventually the bogan will discover that Jetstar does not currently fly to Egypt, and that it’s going to need a lot more discipline and/or luck to get sufficient cash to visit them in a self-financed manner. As it despondently clicks away from the Jetstar website and back to ninemsn, a pop-up ad appears that answers its prayers. “Looks like Stephen Conroy’s nanny state internet filter hasn’t been able to stop me from getting lucky!”, chirps the bogan to nobody in particular, proud that it remembered the politician’s name from the hatchet piece on Today Tonight.
The bogan is not inclined to dwell on its victory though, because there are pyramids awaiting it. The bogan reads over the popup ad a second time. “Freaken sick”, it mutters, still to nobody in particular. The bogan is now aware of a hot new internet startup company which is building “the next Facebook”. “In on the ground floor, baby!”, yowls the bogan, finally at a pitch sufficient to lure its Staffy Pitbull cross to open one muscled-over eye. Within ten minutes, the bogan has direct deposited the popup-requested $1,000 into the company’s bank account. For the third time since the Telstra float, the bogan is a shareholder once more. Five thousand shares, redeemable for cold hard cash 12 months from now. Freaken sweet. But the best part of the deal is that for every extra person the bogan gets to invest, Twitspace promises to send it $100. “Pyramids here we come ay!”
The bogan spends the next few months using every social occasion to harangue its acquaintances into investing in Twitspace. During this period of pitching to its friends and family, two $100 cheques come its way from a bank in Central America. Money for nothing! As the 12 month mark approaches, the Warren Buffett-esque mercantile bogan marvels at what its shares in Twitspace must be worth now. “We could put in an offer for the Sphinx”, it boasts to its co-investors. Still, the bogan’s inbox remains ungraced by Twitspace Inc – 13 months go by, and then 15 months. The bogan begins to wonder.
Eventually, the bogan’s pyramid scheme victims glass it and call it a cunt. Its credibility in tatters, it concedes that it is not on its way to Egypt. The dejected bogan will need discipline and/or luck to get out of this one. After careful contemplation, it decides to take its remaining money to the one Sphinx that it swears will not break its heart – a pokies venue located on Thompson’s Road, Geelong. The bogan then turns its mind to figuring out what to with that camel that it bought on eBay.