The occasional bogan wants to become vegetarian. Really. However, in a rare example of self-awareness, it knows it has no control over its pathological need for protein, which as far as the bogan knows exists only in beef, chicken and Max Bulk Powder 4000. Therefore, the only logical response to the bogan’s desire to be herbivorous is to first eat ALL of the animals. This is more difficult than it sounds. There are many animals, and the bogan’s appetite for destruction is limited to 80s hair metal and an aversion to salad.
While the bogan is uncomfortable with the idea of where the protein injection comes from, and would most likely shirk at the idea of skinning a cow (despite its boisterous statements), it is perfectly comfortable with consuming the fruits of others’ labour. Male bogans are on an ongoing dietary mission to depopulate entire species via any and all means necessary. Not content with catastrophically disrupting marine environments with fishing boats and jet skis, the bogan has looked further abroad.
Pizza Hut saw this and responded. The male bogan has a clear predisposition to label all green foods as for poofs, and continually derides salads as ‘rabbit feed’ or ‘chicks’ food’. Pizza Hut realised that while the bogan was already partial to a large margarita, that particular variety, in its effort to avoid giving nutritional offence, had avoided almost every food the bogan genuinely pursues. So they visited the slaughterhouse, and said ‘I’ll take it.’
Thus the bogan was gifted with the Meat Lovers’ Pizza. It is the quarter pounder of Italian food, Hemingway on a yeasty base, an atomic protein overdose. Covered in sufficient barbeque sauce to drown an actual cow, the pizza then successfully removes all meat flavour, which is fortuitous, as it would possibly actually turn the bogan to vegetarianism, a previously inconceivable event. When the bogan has the option of 75 different varieties of processed meat slathered in cheese, meat, tomato, meat and meat, all other dining options fade into an amorphous green mass.
Last year, there were about 170,000 hospitalisations for coronary heart disease, and it is TBL’s understanding that the Meat Lovers’ Pizza is responsible for at least 450,000 of them. Faced with the choice between the Supreme, the Hawaiian (bogans, in a rare display of reason, decry the application of pineapple to pizza), the Capricciosa or the Meat Lovers’, the bogan will invariably gravitate to the meal most likely to induce a fatal disease. Not fearful of cardiac arrest, but concerned about an expansion of waist or thigh, the bogan makes up for this colossal intake of saturated fats with a SureSlim shake, a manly diet coke and a few sessions on the AbMaster7400, then hits the sack, healthy and happy.
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It’s man time!
It’s got I’ve just conquered nature and proved my worth to the tribe all over it.
Sometimes the Bogan prefers chicken-KFC Double Down
I may just have picked up on this because I am a professional nit picker (auditor) but how can a pizza be responsible for 450,000 instances of hospitalisation of a total population of 170,000?
Touche!
I thought that was the joke.
AJ you are a loser – its supposed to be funny… go read cpa.com rather
I once bought a slice of pizza from that pizzeria just outside of Preston market. On display where all types of pizza covered in meat and one was labelled vegetarian. Just to make sure the owners didn’t err that day by accidental placing a vegetarian tag on one of the pizzas I enquired about said pizza.
“Yeah it’s vegetarian with meat but”
I looked at her with a puzzled look and asked her if she knew what vegetarian was and she replied with “It’s vegetarian with meat but”
argh.
well she’s ending a sentence with the word ‘but’, so you can’t expect her to understand what vegetarian means.
450,000 / 170,000 ???
On another note:- Why much you label as bogan one of my favourite guilty pleasures?
Because it’s overly – indulgent, crass, allows the male bogue to pretend to be tough and shows an inability to exercise self-restraint; ergo, it is bogan to the MAXtreme. I actually thought this would have been obvious!
Well ,yes,but no, yes but no;it is not the meat that causes the 450,000 heart attacks but the concomitant saturated fat .
Mind you I can’t recall ever seeing a low fat pizza.
The dominoes Biggest Loser pizza JH.
OMG! Second repsonder!
Dammit! Left it loaded for too long. ARGH!!!!
Bogans absolutely freakin’ LOVE BBQ sauce on a pizza. As a part-time pizza maker for a catering company, I have seen first-hand the craving for this substance to be placed on pizza – any pizza – no matter what the topping.
As an aside, traditional pizza is supposed to be simple, with just two or three toppings (apart from sauce and cheese) max; that way it cooks evenly, doesn’t flop over when you pick up a slice and you get a nice balance of flavours. This is preferable to most pizza-lovers, but not so the bogan: they simply must have “The Lot”, tradition be damned.
I admit I used to put BBQ sauce on any pizza which has any meat on it.
But after I visited Italy, I discovered the pleasure of a truly great pizza with a nice thin base, a good tomato sauce, buffalo mozzarella and a few herbs to top it off. Maybe a little pepperoni or prosciutto, but nothing else.
No one else gets it. Bogans.
My other half used to be a barbeque sauce loving meatlover as well, but has since been converted to the joys of a simple thin crust tomato and mozzarella pizza. Nothing better, with maybe a little basil or thyme.
Pizza Bianca is the epitome of simple-yet-effective pizza: a thin crust base with nothing more than olive oil, rock salt and a some oregano or rosemary, or other herbs of one’s own choosing.
(Kisses fingers) Bellissimo!
Yum BO’T! Now I want pizza for lunch. Damn you.
I made a foccacia with those toppings the other day. It was delicious!
Watch the Everybody loves Raymond episode where the family goes to Italy and the part where Ray buys Pizza at a Stall somewhere in Rome to get an idea what Pizza should look like.My personal favorite would be a Seafood Pizza but only Cafe Primo has those though but NO CHEESE as it took me almost my whole lifetime to learn about my lactose intolerance that I have to be careful about.Italian Cafes would not even know what a MEAT LOVERS PIZZA IS as it doesn’t even exist on their menu.
You can blame this on the leb pizza. Back in the early 90s many OSB would buy pizza at 3am from those dodgy kebab places in the cross which used to drown their bbq sauce laden pizzas with so much cheap cheese and it became an instant hit.
The real traditional pizza only has a thin homemade crust, with basil and Neapolitana sauce base. No cheese.
That is my kind of pizza NO CHEESE THIN BASE and seafood or other kind of topping BUT has to have some vegetable content.
I do like the lot, but never with pineapple. Pineapple is bogan.
Pineapple on pizza is bogan, Simon. Pineapple is a very nice fruit on its own – I even like it when it’s tinned, although the fresh is best.
TBL #224 – Tinned fruit and vegetables. Bogans love that cause they don’t have to go to the trouble of preparing and cooking fresh veges.
I did mean that Ash, on pizza that is, despite the article saying Bogans are adverse to pineapple I’m not sure I agree with that unless we are drawing a distinction with boguettes.
I like meat though, damn I like meat. Must go get a steak sandwich now.
I can take or leave the meats I eat.
I enjoy a good schnitzel, madras prawn or bacon in any form as much as the next guy, but I can live without it as well.
A good steak is a thing of beauty.
You have dear old Margaret Fulton, god bless her, to blame for tinned pineapple crime in this country.
The only thing I reckon tinned pineapple is good for is making pineapple upside down cake, and that’s only because the syrupy juice makes a nice glaze on top.
Meatlovers, aka The Noah’s Ark…
The bogan that decided that cooking pineapple was a good thing deserves to be shot.
Perfect pizza: prosciutto, tomato, tomato paste, mozzarella, parmesan.
Don’t even get me started on the different varieties of the pub parma. I saw a bolognese version recently. Bogans are taking over the kitchen. I blame Masterchef.
Can you get a Meat Lovers Pizza with stuffed crust, where the stuffing is also meat? My colon is packing it in just pondering it.
You could meat cram the be-jeebies out of it, until the dough is almost minimal.
F*ck dough, they should have dead cow as the base, then put other dead amimals on it. Lots of them.
Lamb, pig, cow, fish, chicken. It’s called meat lovers.
This is what I mean.
That’s a look of meaty contentment if ever there was one. All he needs to do is strap on a bib and ‘man time’ will be upon him.
I reckon that guy would be down with this place here in Perth…
http://www.wanneroovillatavern.com.au/
One the menu there’s one called The Great Aussie Open Paddock. A HUGE plate comes out laden with grilled rump steak, sausages, lamb chops, kangaroo fillet, bacon, eggs and fries. They also have a dish called The Carnivore Hall of Fame. It’s a 800g rump steak with fries and salad. Anyone who completes the challenge gets they’re name on the Wall of Fame for the month. Not quite up there with some of the huge US food challenges.
About that URL … what the hell is with all these “taverns” popping up everywhere nowadays? Back in my day, we called them “pubs” – or “hotels” if we wanted to get all pendantic.
All I know is that the higher the bogan quotient of a particular drinking establishment, the more likely it is to carry the “tavern” appellation.
What, is the modern bogan some sort of Renaissance-era sailor drinking mead from pewter mugs while singing shanties to a hornpipe?
urban,
Definitely wouldn’t want to get pe(n)dantic !!!
When anyone says “Tavern”, I think of Moe’s.
Somehow I don’t think Moe’s Tavern is exactly a very bogan (or at least a NaB) ideal – no shit music, no dance floor, no sluts wearing next to nothing, just a bunch of drunks getting pissed and a sociopathic bartender.
In short, my kind of drinking establishment.
The term “tavern” has been used in Perth commonly since the early 1970s, when suburban public houses popped up with dark clinker bricks, amber or olive carpet tiles and exposed rough-sawn timber beams. And even then, they still had the traditional men-only public bar section, with all its attendant OSBs with handlebar moustaches in singlets, shorts and thongs, swilling middies (to some of you Eastern staters, pots) of Swan Draught and Emu Export. If you wanted to get dressed, slap the safari suit on and take your missus, then you went to the lounge bar, where the dress code applies and you could order something beyond a middy or glass of beer.
Makes one wonder what the older OSBs, of whom were young(er) men nearly four decades ago, would make of these new-generation “taverns” that have dispensed altogether with the front bar and all its concomitant rough edges…it’s all foreign beer (can’t even spot the local draught anywhere!), premixed bourbon and colas and Breezers and Jager-bombs.
Like the bogan of old would cry, “fück this pooncy nonsense!”
Should have a huge dried cow shit on it too, to be an authentic open paddock. And a bit of rusty old tin.
Yep…Agreed Simon. But I cannot handle BBQ sauce…no way should meat taste sweet!
BBQ sauce = Travesty
Surprised there’s no mention of the wretched sweet chilli sauce so far. The bogue loves this sickly sweet slurry.
There’s good and bad sweet chilli sauce, Chris. The Masterfoods shite is one thing, but if you buy authentic Thai sweet chilli sauce…that’s one of my favourite flavours of all time. Whenever I go to a BBQ, I take some with me and watch the reactions of people as they try it.
Yeah, I hear you, Ash. I was thinking of the nasty supermarket crap that people indiscriminately pile onto food.
You mentioned being raised vegetarian; can I ask if that was that a religious/cultural thing?
I was in Bali recently (and yes, I’m well aware of the irony of posting this on this forum) and the Pizza Hut there had a CORNFLAKES stuffed crust pizza. I still can’t get my head around it.
best laugh so far tonight
I predict it will soon be introduced on the central coast, but as a special on the meat lovers. It will be officially opened (red velvet rope) by the new member for Terrigal – Chris Spence the former One Nation-Liberal
http://www.smh.com.au/national/one-nation-candidate-must-go-says-alp-20091123-iz87.html
we have it all here on the coast – and Iguana Joes to be redeveloped!
I like dim sims sandwiched between potato cakes.
It’s damn near impossible to get a proper pizza these days. It has to be done by a middle aged, Northern Italian man. Or else it’s just second best.
I just go for the supreme or if I’m feeling peculiar an Australiana pizza with egg and bacon. I probably eat too much meat but I counter it by skipping dinner a couple of times a week and drinking large quantities of beer to clean the pipes out, I imagine most bogans do this too. BBQ sauce is bogan, except with chicken nuggets, except chicken nuggets are bogan.
“the bogan has the option of 75 different varieties of processed meat slathered in cheese, meat, tomato, meat and meat”
Gold! – Bogans definitely accuse anyone who enjoys fresh fruit and vegetables of being a poof.
After having nearly killed itself by eating garbage. The bogan will occassionally get maxxtreme fit. Not satisfied with simply looking healthy the bogan misses looking ugly and garish. That’s when the faux hawk and the full arm tatt appears.
Ouch, quite a url, it’s that guy from the Biggest Loser.
F*ck you Martin, was that really called for.
Simon,
I made my Beagles avert their eyes. Poor innocents.
Very wise JH.
F*ck you Simon. You’re the one who often posts that hotchickswithdouchebags site. I had to go and see a shrink because of that one.
http://hotchickswithdouchebags.com/2011/04/captain-lubing-and-tracey-gnaw/
You certainly do not want to view this then Martin.
This is the speciality of bogan hubby and the bogan-in-laws. They are all morbidly obese and every couple of years or so will start to diet. Once they have lost about a stone, they figure they can start gorging again. Hubby also starts exercise regimes. “Getting back into training” he calls it. He is 47 years old and I thinks he is harking back to the days when he played a bit of local footy. Anyway, due to his weight, he will injure himself within about an hour of exercise and that is it for his “new” training regime. When anyone questions what happened, he tells them that he “pulled his hammy” or whatever the latest injury happens to be. It is exactly the same routine evey time!!!!!
On top of the family trying to diet and exercise, they all sabotage each other. Sad and funny all at the same time!
stop looking in the window at my family!!!!!
A kindred spirit! Laurenbee can you really know the trauma? This is how bad my in-laws are. I kid you not, this is a true story. The first time I met one of my hubby’s uncle’s (now deceased), he told me in front of the entire family that he wanted to fuck me (in those words). This was in front of his wife and kids. He thought it was hilarious. I was just thoroughly disgusted. This man died of a massive heart attack a few years ago brought about by his obesity and smoking. His dumb as a rock wife tells everyone that his ex daughter in law caused it by fighting with him (one time) when they were visiting them in Perth. It was the stress of that verbal argument that killed him not the years and years of bad food, smoking and lack of exercise. I think that putting the blame on her is outrageous! Even they know it’s bullshit! Stupid bogans!
Meat on your meatlovers = pork and beef? Maybe not!
I will never forgot reading about the uses of “Mutton trunk meat” in an agricultural magazine. Scraped off sheep bones in abbatoirs, it is processed and coloured and used as various ‘meats’ on cheap pizzas and frozen food abominations.
I just googled and found this awesomely gruesome Australian research report.
Alison, Poor sensitive thing you are. Tha is not a bad as the waste material that pop bdogs are made from . similar to seafood extender.
Me I would agree with people that the most revolting thing on a pizza is Bar b q sauce, OMG.
What I would realy like is a pizza with thinly sliced kidney and liver. It wpould be offaly nice.
Might be something Simon would go for ?
Hmmmmmmm Chicken livers with brandy and cream , yum, thin fresh liver very quick cook on the flame bar b q. double yum and bacon wrapped half kidneys again on the bar b q. tripple yum
bugger the pizza.
I’ve never had a stomach for offal JH.
I used to dread having steak & kidney when I was a kid. My dad used to like it. I don’t want to eat kidneys because they’ve had lots and lots of wee go through them. I swear that’s what you taste when you eat them. Wee.
Martin,
Nope, pee tastes like sea water.
JH – I’m not gonna ask how you know that.
Ash’
Man has to use something on stage to wash down the mouse !
You must have really enjoyed the last Jackass movie then James. I got through about half of it, I was really desperate for something to watch, I thought I might have some cheap laughs at people jumping off cliffs or running into traffic or something. Not so, it was so gross. Another scar for life.
Martin,
I don’t especially like jackass. find it a bit crass and vulgar. our show has much more class and for things like guinness and AGT we can do a nice family tv show gig. still some of the shows for bikers and some out there night clubs we can go fairly hard core but still with a style more “dark caberet ”
All bookings accepted.
Teenage Bogan Vegetarians are just like Teenage Bogan lesbians. They always go back to the meat.
I had a fling with a vegetarian bogan girl. She worked at a deli and when we went out to the mall once we had ham rolls and a chicken and potatos dinner.
That’s all good Martin….Just as long as it was vegetarian!
A lot of young bogans go through a hippie/lefty phase. I saw it in school. Eventually they all go back.
Hey TBL what happened to the “Most Recent Comments” widget in the sidebar? I can’t have been the only one using it
Bring back the widget
Bring back the Widget
Widget! Muthaf####…. Do you have it?
Worked at the Pizza Hut Customer Service Centre for 4 years – thought i’d note that the BBQ Meatlovers is Pizza Hut’s most popular pizza.
Why hasn’t anyone mentioned Liz Lemon yet?!
I love meat, and of late have bought medium sized salami’s to gnaw on at home, but I hate meat lovers pizza. There is too much meat on it, it’s like overkill! Favorite pizza is a supreme or even a seafood one with prawn, mussels and onion as a topping.
Slightly off-topic, but also slightly on-topic given his conquering of countless bogan women who also are, ahem, meat-lovers: has anyone seen the ad with Warnie reading from a script (who knew he could read?) selling furniture?
Why would I buy a couch that Warnie probably had sex on?
1) Buy couch where Warnie had root
2) Stick on eBay to sell to bogan
3) ?????
4) PROFIT!
Who wouldn’t want to sit on warnies “pre-loved” couch, destroying both a meat-lovers pizza and chances of reaching old age at the same time…
Lovely. A couch that will give you an STD. Who wouldn’t want that?
Lucky,
Not only that but wait, theres more…You have the rest of your like to pay for it.
For the man (Bogan) who has everything?
I witnessed a wonderful bogan moment on a plane yesterday. Well, heard it.
Coming in to land, femmebogue figured she was too important to wait for her ride so made a call. While we were still 1000 feet up. This happens regularly so no real surprise. However, this lady picked the wrong day.
Sitting opposite her was a dude from some civil aviation safety mob. He was not impressed and made this point quite firmly and loudly. Now, I only heard bits and pieces of what she was saying but I got the idea that it was initially a “goangetfarrrked” type response. that was until she was told the penalties that such behavior could incur. That’s when the backpedaling started. I don’t even know if safety dude was indeed a safety dude or just a bogan-tormentor, but it was fun
Safety dude, I salute you.
Oh Mick, I absolutely love it when a bogan douche gets their comeuppance! I’m no law-and-order fascist, but I silently applaud whenever I see a cop pull over some loser in a lime green ute doing 110km/h in a 60km/h zone or a ticketie give some hoodie-wearing rat a fine for fare evasion on the train.
Of course, the bogans subjected to the long arm of the law will then go on and complain about how “Astraya’s turnin’ inta a fargun police state, I’m tellin’ ya!” or “They should be out there catchin’ the ROOL criminals!” and continue on with their reprobate ways completely unperturbed by the punishment meted out to them.
If you see any more bogans being put in their rightful place, please do share with us, Mick! :)
It’s a lovely bogueressive means of taxation
When I rule the world, I will have a policeman for every bogan.
Take it from someone who knows, many, many police are also bogans!
True. Maybe I’ll just have to enslave them then.
One of the causes of bowel cancer is all that meat, rotting away inside you for days. Quite revolting.
MA,
What rot !
All bogan food must be yellow-coloured based. Fried, battered and/or yellow. A ‘pizza’ is a classy (‘it’s a little bit fancy’) variant. Pub-‘food’-eating Bogans love what used to be a basic hamburger, drenched in mayonaise, sweet chilli sauce from a bottle, and to wash it down, Diet Coke (so they can feel like uber bogan half-man, voice of a seasoned 60-a-day female smoker on helium Michelle Bridges or the other tossers who look like a condom full of walnuts). Then it’s off for maxtreme amounts of bourbon and coke. Get ’em young, so it’s chicket nuggets (pronounced ‘Chiiikunnuggerts’) and coke for the excrable spawn.
Must say the Colonel has to take some exception to this derogatory judgement on this so called ‘bogan’ culinary habits. I’ve squired many a lower class colonial lass, as well as a few chaps, truth be told, not to mention a good number of your more prosperous convict and damned if there be much difference in their gastronomical habits. Try to get an adequately served chilled sancerre in this country and you’ll appreciate this is no idle flippancy. Why just the other day my fois gras was damned near lukewarm. I had to backhand the waiter. It’s no less than what was needed, of course.
“Condom full of walnuts” Hahaha. Reminds me of bogans wearing sports gear… never ever been to a gym, but wearing head to toe Nike… Noice!
A line dreamed up by Clive James. For full effect, it’s a ‘brown condom full of walnuts’ and he used it to describe Big Arnie Schwarzneggar.
I love a GOOD pizza.
Pizzas were originally peasant food in Italy. A mate of mine who’s father was from a wealthy northern Italian family always refused to eat pizza because he considered it beneath him…that is until the age of 70 when my mate and his brother finally convinced their father to try one. The original pizza is the Margaritta (spelling?), apparently named after Queen Margaritta after she wondered what the peasants were eating and tried some herself and found she liked it. The Margaritta is the most basic, made with a thin crust, neapolitan sauce and basil. Everything else is technically not an authentic pizza!
These days is is hard to get a decent pizza, mostly because of the invention of thick bases, stuffed crusts, piling on too much cheese and worst of all the cheap processed meats the pizza shop put on them. Meat Lovers with BBQ sauce is the worst. If anything will give you a heart attack and bowel cancer, it would be the fat and salt packed processed meat on a Meat Lovers pizza. Uurrrggghhhhh!!!
“Margherita” is the correct spelling for that joyously simple pizza…after pizza bianca, it’s my favourite.
But all this nonsense of stuffing a pizza full of greasy tertiary cuts is moot to me, for I am a vegetarian, having been so continuously for nearly four-and-a-half years. What ultimately sold me to act and commit to this ideal that I harboured for a decade prior was simply aesthetics: I simply no longer enjoyed eating meat, fish or poultry, having gradually lost the taste for them. Also adding to my decision were other considerations, such as the processing of these products, unsustainable farming and fishing practices and the needless suffering experienced by much of the livestock, especially that of which are factory-farmed for the mass retail market.
In stating this, I must also emphasise that I’m not one of those sanctimonious militant vegonazis and take no umbrage at those who eat animals for their sustenance in a responsible manner (i.e. not consuming maxxtreme quantities, buying free range/responsibly fished and supporting local independent farmers). However, if one chooses to partake in eating flesh, one must also be fully cognisant of the idea of the Circle of Life, whereby one respects the fact that the animal has lived a relatively comfortable existence and that its suffering in its slaughter is kept to a minimum, not wasting the edible portions and a good way to instil this is to actively participate in catching the beast, quickly killing it and butchering it. This can be effected, for example, in something as simple as catching, then slitting, scaling, gutting, filleting and finally, preparing and eating, a fish, catching no more than is necessary to sustain oneself. Only then one can have appreciation that another sentient being sacrificed in its life in order to improve yours. That’s how I learnt to appreciate all food, particularly flesh when I did eat it and this mentality extends to most of my food choices, such as buying as locally and organically as practicable.
Oh, and I can’t stand barbecue sauce either. Especially the smokey version. Urgh.
BoT, that’s similar to my attitude although I can’t go full vego (I was raised as such for the first 10 years of my life, but after that not so).
If I buy meat (I tend to do the shopping wherever I live for this reason) I make sure I’m buying from local farmers and that the meat’s been humanely slaughtered. I also have tried catching my own fish on my days off, but with very limited success.
Please tell me. What is the Bogan’s fascination with BBQ sauce? I have seen many Bogan’s in my time so I have seen much ado about the ethereal BBQ sauce. It’s like hot chips and gravy. Bogan love hot chips and gravy !
I work two jobs, but one of them is Office Manager. This is in a trade industry. Tradies all love chips and gravy and look bewildered at my lunch each day of fresh fruit, coffee, water, etc that I bring from home. Another bogan trait is buying lunch. They do not seem to understand the concept of bringing lunch from home. On the very odd occasion you will get a young tradie whose mother will regularly pack them lunch, but eventually they get teased so much they end up buying it from the lunch vans or the local take-away.
The Lunch Van, aka ‘The Pie Slut’ almost exclusively staffed by single mother Bogan chicks with arses like Macca Packa.
… aka Chuck Truck, Vomit Comet, Roach Coach.
Salmonella Express.
How true! I have medical family and whenever we have a family get together with my side of the family, the food is usually healthy. That means the side dishes are usually home made and consist of beautifully put together salads and vegetables. Fruit is always one of the desserts on offer. Bogan hubby will always start complaining on the morning of the event about the “lack of decent food” and “how we will have to get maccas on the way home”. It is interesting to compare the roman orgy style food events that his side of the family eat compared with mine. It is also interesting to note that no one on my side of the family is obese or sick when nearly 100% of his side is. None of them seem capable of linking what they eat and do with their weight problem until a doctor tells them. In my hubbys case, he just refuses to get the tests done. Bogans are an interesting lot. Once they get diagnosed with a health issue, they can then blame the health issue for all their problems and it is no longer the weight/exercise/lifestyle. An example of this is the diabetes that runs through the family. They say that is is genetic because it runs through three generations. They fail to tell you that all three generations were also morbidly obese! If you dare to ask what would happen if maybe they kept their weight down, they would tell you it wouldn’t make any difference. We are talking about Type 2 diabetes, not Type 1! They also say that high blood pressure is genetic. I know that is a crock of shit, but how do you explain that to a bogan?
XXX,
Don’t try. Ask the mortician to tell them.
Hi James,
As I mentioned in a previous post, even that wouldn’t work. When one of the family dropped dead (literally) of a massive heart attack, the family blamed an argument he had with his ex-daughter in law. It was “the stress” apparently! This man was an ex vietnam veteran who ruled his family with an iron fist. Absolutely massively obese. However, one argument with the ex-daughter in law and he has a heart attack that kills him! Bogans! I tell ya, they have an excuse for everything!
that ex-daughter in law must have used some evil magic or something.
XXX, having grown up in a medical family myself I know exactly what you mean. While my mum wasn’t as strict as some (we had sweets fairly often and even cake occasionally), healthy eating was still stressed in our house. Combined with the fact that my sisters and I were all into sports, and we were all pretty healthy even though the male side of my dad’s family all eventually develop guts (I keep mine under control).
This, of course, meant that all our family (both Indian and Fijian halves, but especially the Indian side) thought we were disgustingly skinny and used to accuse mum of not feeding us enough.
My family are what I would consider “normal” We know what is healthy and we understand moderation. My older brothers are both doctors, so they deal with the fallout of our current unhealthy society. Hubby’s family are pretty excessive, even for bogans. I wont bore you with the Christmas lunch we had with my brother-in-law, but it had to be seen to be believed. All that was missing was the whole pig complete with apple in the mouth. If he had been able to get one, it probably would have been there!
My dad specialises in bariatric (fat people) surgery. Some of the stories he has are pretty disturbing to say the least.
Had a great pizza recently that had some slivers of wild mushroom and asiago cheese. Very scantily-clad. And utterly beautiful. The pizza was a full 12″ in diameter, but I finished it with pleasure. Fast forward to a recent work-thingy, where pizza from a local bogan pizzeria was delivered. It had a thick crust, was stacked a couple of inches high with “meat”, cheese and other unmentionables. I was slightly drunk, so I ate one slice, but could manage no more. Yech.
contributors, and tbl ,
Just had to write, I can’t stand back anymore..
I live in a regional city for the moment, a place I could call jimmy barnes heartland.
The first of the twelve steps is admitting i am an addict, yes most lunch times i take
the chance to log into this site. Fellow workers are now concerned about the amount of
food that they see me wiping off my business shirt over the sink in the “lunch room”.
They are starting to associate it with the fits of laughter that scream from my office
in those twenty minutes that I feed my worsening addiction to this site.
Having been posted all over this country by my employers, I had come to the very personal
conclusion, that I could remember which city or town I was in just by observing the traffic
on the roads, and the traffic in the supermarket aisle. You know it makes sense.
Now I know it is way off topic, but I think it has been sorely missed on this site.
I happen to be male, but boganism is not gender related.
I have had the misfortune of being curious about online dating.
I happen to be single, but the thought of online dating to me makes me cringe. Now that’s just
personal, and I have no known aversion to what others do in relation to dating stuff.
My curiosity was born from work mates (female) forever discussing their online dating atrocities.
And remember, I am in Jimmy barnes heartland.
Now I just could not resist looking at some “personalities online”
It would not be worth writing about, because it would all be too obvious as to what you would find.
“don’t want a cheat” “don’t want a liar” “don’t want another glasser”
Here is the twist.
In order to look at these sites, you have to be part of the site, so you are going to get approached
via text, **gifts**, **kisses** and a whole range of Harvey Norman interest free lovin…….
Please tbl, you have to do it. ONLINE DATING. It’s a goldmine.
I could cut and paste, and fill an entire forum, and that’s just from one day.
It’s just too good to miss. A polite and thoughtful response to a bogan online can only bring back
one response, If I ever I up with youse, me daughter will glass ya, ya carnt
Ah yes, online dating. I had my own waxing and spray tanning business for a while and used to listen to the “ladies” talk of their experiences. I don’t think anyone ever found their “true love” or even close to it from one of those sites. Some of the younger girls used to worry me. I would tell them to be careful. I would also tell them to meet the guys in a public place. The profile pictures were often years old. The guys were married, attached, etc. I also waxed men and the dating scene was pretty terrible for them as well. Bogan men complained that they were dating someone whose ex was “a farken psycho that used to hit her and stuff and if he ever turns up I’ll beat the shit out of him”. Bogan women complain that the men all are “players”.
My mum found a long term partner on through online dating. 7 years and they’re still crazy about each other. Maybe the concept is bogan but people are lonely and get desperate. Not everyone is outgoing enough to meet a partner through friends/work/people in the supermarket scenario.
Online dating story time. (God, the number of bogan stories I have scares me. And they’re all largely true with only some embillishments).
I have a black mate (yeah, that’s right! Am I cool now? I have a black friend!) who draws boguettes like flies to shit whenever we go out together. Never mind that he’s closer to Carlton Banks than Curtis Jackson. So one day in uni, cause we were bored shitless, we decided to try a little social experiment.
We set up two online dating pages, one true one for himself and one for one of our mutual (white) friends (with his permission) with similar personalities and interests, to see who could get more interest. No prize for guessing it was Carlton.
***insert ‘catch up with’ *****
Just because it’s Good Friday, doesn’t mean that you have to miss out on your regular weekly episode of …
THE BOGUE & BOGUETTE SHOW!!!
(THE SCENE: The slate-floored combined kitchen / grand dining area on the upper storey of BOGUE and BOGUETTE’s McMansion. BOGUE is sitting at the dining table with AIDEN, BRAIDEN, JAIDEN and KAIDEN. He is teaching his youngest son, pouting five-year-old KAIDEN, how to arm-wrestle.)
BOGUE: Carn Kaiden, you bloody wimp! Give it a bit of oomph, you crybaby! What are ya, some sort of girl?
(The front door downstairs opens and closes, and BOGUETTE walks up the stairs carrying three plastic bags full of foodstuffs from KFC.)
BOGUE: (greedily grasps plastic bags from BOGUETTE and places the contents on the dining table) Woohoo! Cool, you got me the Double! Thanks honeybunch! All right, tuck in, boys!
JAIDEN: (a scrawny, cross-eyed seven-year-old boy with a blond buzzcut and a rat’s tail and a face shaped like the head of an axe who’s wearing a kid’s sized Penriff Panfers jersey) Daddy, Miss Rogers says I shouldn’t eat KFC because it’s really bad for me and stuff.
BOGUE: Yeah, and what would yer teacher know? Miss Rogers don’t know nuffint. This is bloke’s food! So eat up, it’ll make a man of ya!
(There is a loud menacing knock on the front door)
BOGUE: Who the hell’s that? I hope it’s not Jason next door trying to bludge lawn mower fuel off me again. I told him to use the doorbell!
(BOGUE walks downstairs and opens the door to find a menacing, six-foot-six twenty-stone copiously-tattooed, toothless thug standing at the door, carrying a bundle of papers beneath his folded arms)
BOGUE: Oi! Use me farkin’ doorbell next time, I didn’t spend a hundred bucks on a you-beaut wireless multi-chime doorbell for nuffint … what? Who the fark are you?
REPO MAN: I’m here to repossess your car.
BOGUE: What? What the fark? No way ….
REPO MAN: Yup. It’s right here in black and white, sir. Here’s a court order authorising me to repossess a 2009 Ford Falcon XR6 on behalf of your creditors, the ANZ Bank. (thrusts papers into BOGUE’s hands)
BOGUE: Listen, mate! You can’t jest waltz in here, onto MY premises, and take away MY car! That’s me property we’re talking about here!
REPO MAN: Actually, it’s not your property at all, mate! I wish you fellas would read your credit contract for a change. According to the records I just gave ya, you’re three monthly repayments behind! ANZ has gone to the magistrate, obtained a court order – now give me your keys, please!
BOGUE: Carn buddy, I’m only three payments behind. I can catch up as soon as me missus finds a job! Honest!
REPO MAN: Keys, please. Now we can do this the easy way …
BOGUE: You ain’t doin’ it no bloody way! Get off me property now or I’ll call the cops!
REPO MAN: OK, so you want to do it the hard way. That’s OK. I’ll return tomorrow with a sheriff, then you can pay the sheriff’s costs on top of what you already owe!
BOGUETTE: (comes running down the stairs) What’s going on, honey? What’s this tow truck doing here?
BOGUE: He’s taking away me car! Me precious Ford Falcon XR6! Me pride and joy!
BOGUETTE: Darling, I tried tellin’ ya about all the reminders the bank sent us and stuff! And what did you say? “Naaah, they won’t take me car away, I’m not that far behind!” “Naaah, not to worry, we’ll catch up eventually!”
REPO MAN: (attaching tow truck chain to the back of the Falcon which is parked on the driveway) Your keys, please. Or I’ll have to pour detergent on your driveway – and I won’t be washing it off for ya!
BOGUE: (retrieves keys from pocket of his three-quarter length camouflage shorts and hurls them onto the street) There. Fetch, you farkin’ pig!
BOGUETTE: You know, honey, if we had gotten that 2005 Toyota Tarago that I found in the Saturdee paper instead, we might have been able to afford the repayments and we’d also be able to fit all the kids in the one car and stuff …
BOGUE: (arms folded, staring at REPO MAN dragging the car onto the tow truck) Don’t. Say. A f#$%ing. Word.
(BOGUE and BOGUETTE continue to stare at REPO MAN in silence for several minutes, until the tow truck disappears from view at the end of the cul-de-sac)
BOGUETTE: Honey, it’s not the end of the world …
(BOGUE is still silent, looking at the end of the cul-de-sac)
BOGUETTE: Darling, it’s OK. We can always get another car eventually …
BOGUE: Urrghuruguturuurutgghhhhhhurghgurughgurhgh – (runs over to the footpath leading to the front door and kicks over those three-foot high lanterns on metal stalks sending pine bark chips flying all over the frontyard) – ghghjuururtuyyuururhghguururughguruuuuuuuuuurghghguuuffruuurrkkkghghghurgh –
BOGUETTE: For bloody hell’s sake, honey! I can still drive you to work in my Suzuki in the mornings!
BOGUE: -urrrrrrrghurguruthureeeeerrrrrghuruughgh – (yanks letterbox out of the ground and throws it onto the bitumen cul-de-sac, breaking the bolts that attach the box to the support post, breaking it into two) – ghurughbuurugbhburrggghherruffuurghugghrugughguuurghghg –
BOGUETTE: Listen, sweetie! Shevonne’s opening up her beauty salon in that little row of empty shops on the Housing Commission estate next week with the money she won on Keno! I might be able to get a couple of shifts a week working for her, we might be able to get the car back!
BOGUE: -grururuiuurghhgrogggugooroguguggurggggggggh- (runs up the driveway to his remote-controlled roller-door garage and kicks it three times, leaving three large dents in the door) -ggruughgughtraaaaarghruruaaarghuurggugh-
BOGUETTE: Settle down, will ya? All the neighbours are peeking out of their curtains watchin’ ya! Jason next door is standing at his bedroom window on the top storey pointin’ at ya and laughin’ at ya!
BOGUE: -uuurrugugugugughguururrrgtrruguaaarrghurugh- (uproots one of the grevillea shrubs that lines the front footpath and throws it towards BOGUETTE, but not being the most aerodynamic of projectiles, falls well short of his target) -ggururuguurugugghugh … KURRRGGGHNT!!!! (collapses onto front lawn, belly down, flailing his legs and banging his fists on the grass, tears streaming down his face) Urrggh …. me pride and joy … me farkin’ pride and joy … you … you dumbf#$k bitch! …. This is all your fault … boohoo aarrghh boohoo … urrgh … if you weren’t … if you weren’t … such a bludgin’ bitch …. if you didn’t lose that farkin’ job at the mobile phone shop …. none of this woulda happened … boohoo …. droppin’ me off at work in that poxy Suzuki shitbox …. boohoo … I’d rather walk the forty kays to work …. boohoo … aaargh booboohoo ….
THE END
In case some of you don’t actually believe that bogans really carry on like this, let me tell you another story from my multitude of bogan tales involving hubby.
Hubby had purchased the razor mobile phone when it was the latest and greatest thing going. Anyway, he managed to crack the screen and told my son and I that “it just happened”, “bloody piece of crap’. Next thing we are back at the phone shop and they don’t believe his story, but he is insistent that he wants a repair or replacement and they eventually agree.
Skip ahead 3 weeks and the phone has still not been repaired. The phone shop is right in the middle of a major shopping centre and hubby decides to go ballistic and abuse the staff at the top of his voice calling them “crooks” and “this shop is shit” “the service sucks”, etc, etc.
My son (not a bogan) and I are waiting nearby as we were not stupid enough to go inside with him. As soon as we hear the commotion, we have scuttled off to the nearest coffee shop so we don’t have to be associated with any of it. Hubby eventually finds us and then starts ranting in the coffee shop at the top of his voice about what crooks they are at so and so phone shop until I tell him gently that not everyone in the shop needs to hear our business and that he should calm down. Our 17 year old son looks mortified and is giving me that look that says “get me out of here”.
Bogans like to create scenes. It makes them feel important. However, they are unable to understand the distress it causes for the people around them and they probably wouldn’t care. Bogans are, for the most part, narcissists.
+1. I’ve had to put up with this sort of thing. Boganism is like alchoholism, it negatively affects innocent family members as well as the “victim”, idiot, narcissist, whatever.
XXX, are you conducting some sort of anthropological study?
If I was, I would be in the perfect position to do so. I work in the office in a trade based industry. I married into an entire family of bogans. I live in a bogan suburb. I was private school educated and my family are all university educated. My mistake was marrying young and not being prepared to raise my son in a single parent household. I would rather bite my tongue and play the cards I was dealt in as pleasant a manner as possible so my son has a happy upbringing. He is currently doing his VCE and will finish school at th end of this year. I can think about my future plans then. Bogan hubby knows he got a good deal when he married me, but I am in a living hell!
Kudos XXX. I am sure your son will be a quality dude. As for your future, as Laurence of Arabia said “nothing is written”.
Interestingly enough Simon, I have watched virtually every marriage on my hubby’s side of the family fall apart. It is never the fault of the bogans of course! Hubby’s brother is gay and he has never been married. Poor sod can’t come out to his family because like all died in the wool bogans, they are also homophobic and would rather believe he is just “protecting his money and assets”. Some of the more outspoken members of the family have raised it and asked why he has only ever shared his house with “blokes” and my mother-in-law says that he’s “had plenty of sheilas”. Funny how we have never met a single one of them and he is now 45 years old! I know I am going to sound a bit bogan myself now, but this guy has a house that looks like it should be in a glossy magazine and he can cook like Margaret Fulton. I would love to take him aside and tell him that I know he is a camp as a row of tents and it doesn’t make any difference, but I think he is just terrified of the extended family knowing.
We had a similar thing with one of my cousins in our family, only replace “bogan” with “fundie Hindu” and you get the picture. Eventually he came out, but the parents treated it like a giant elephant in the room when his parents (who don’t mind) came to stay.
Alright, I’ll be honest here – if my car was reposessed, I would be doing the same thing as Bogue here. In fact, probably worse – I’d be lying in a foetal position in the driveway.
Then again, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to buy a car I couldn’t pay for anyway. I bought my car for $5000 – paid half myself, the other half was loaned from my dad and I paid him back within 18 months. (Thanfully, he didn’t charge interest). I’m never gonna sell it anyway, so I’m happy.
Yeah Ash, repossession is traumatic for everyone. I’ve never experienced it myself, but I can imagine what it’s like.
But you and I are smart enough and disciplined enough with our finances not to have repossession of a car happen to us. My car cost me two grand, I paid for it in full with cash a couple of years ago. It’s getting on in years but it still goes well. And when it finally kicks the bucket, I have enough in my rainy day fund to buy another one. That’s because I’m not a bogan and know how to live within my means.
If Bogue wasn’t such a greedy pig, if he was less focussed on impressing his mates with such a flash car and more focussed on the health of the household finances, if he taught himself how to delay gratification and learnt how to pay for things by saving and/or modest debt rather than getting into a maxtreme debt treadmill, if he lived a frugal, abstemious life and protected himself and his family from adversity as a squirrel does by storing some acorns for the long winter ahead – he wouldn’t have experienced the trauma of repossession. Bogue has nobody to blame but himself, and he receives no sympathy from me.
I’ve been watching a desperate lad down the road for some time now. He has a bright yellow chevodore ute…apparently the chev badges are a strong selling point.
Now, this is a 2003 model. He first asked for 33 gorillas. Dreamin’. Asking price now is down to 24. Dreamin’. Redook price is 16 tops. Sunny Nth Queensland is in recession. He’ll be lucky to get ten grand but I’ll watch him carry on.
I would love to tell the young bloke that he’s about to learn the true meaning of the term ‘fire sale’ but I try to dodge glassings.
Mick, the 2003 chevrodore is only bringing around 4K at the auctions here in Melbourne…..Could be a very hard lesson to learn there!
Utes have traditionally a higher resale than the sedans, as there’s no surfeit of not-completely-cashed-up bogans who’ll pony up for a ute.
But even $10k for a VY (the 2002-2004 model) V8 SS ute would still struggle to fetch that figure and with the price of oil heading remorselessly North (if it weren’t for the strong Australian Dollar, we’d be paying around $1.80-$1.90 per litre for 91 RON ULP), the depreciation will only be more savage as even these less-well-remunerated bogues have sufficient self interest (and insufficient creditworthiness too) to realise a more economical vehicle is a better bet.
Ever the optimist Bot? I don’t have the same faith that bogans will ever become that aware.
It’s the ute or public transport with their mates….
Some swallow their pride a little and buy a ≤$1000 vehicle—usually an old econobox, like a Ford Festiva or Holden Barina at almost the end of its serviceable life of 15-20 years—and use that as their work car, calling it a “bunkie” or “boonger”, being the politically correct reactionaries they are and drive it into the ground, not having to fear about scratching the duco or replacing $400 dollar tyres if one blows out.
I hear ya, UR. My best mate and I got our cars around the same time – but he bought himself a shiny lime green SS ute brand new (and went into major debt for it) while I bought my car from a police auction. Within a year, his was repo-ed.
Dare I ask Ash….what car did you get? :-D
A VX Commodore. No Chev badges. And no, I don’t feel anything other than love.
And we better not tell the bogue this—to add insult to injury, the retained value of the Ford Falcon XR6 auto FG model form 2009 only has a retained value over three years of 55%, which not nearly as bad as the 48% of the base XT model, still is well below the low to high 60s of the econoboxes of Japan and Germany.
How can you calculate the three-year resale value of a car that’s only two years old, Turnips? ;)
There’s all kinds of estimations and statistimacal stuff out there.
A bloke with a VZ Club Sport,
$77k new was offered $22k
trade in just last week.
Ouch. :-)
Pandabeater,
They never learn, buy a tricked up Holden or Falcon and at the end of the day it is still a Holden or Falcon.
Me I am sticking with French or German cars. Built by people for people who expect their cars to last.
Young idiot across our street just put about a godzillion watts of subwoofers in his Common door.
You can hear it more then a Km away when walking the Beagles. God knows what the use by on his ears would be.
The funny thing is…if you look at one of these mobile sound machines after 6 months, all the spot welds in the boot, engine bay etc, that hold them together are broken! Never mind the bogan at the wheel, the vehicle itself is a deathtrap….
Poor Bogue, I didn’t think he was ever going to get the Kuurrghht out.
Must say it’s a trifle hypocritical of the Andrew Bolt chap not to be publishing the Colonel’s missives – there’s a chap on his site claiming the asylum seeker’s should hunger strike to save the tax payer a bit of money. Needless to say the Colonel is full of admiration for Mr Bolt’s work:
Dear Sir,
The Colonel must say that your dedication to these issues is simply capital. I’ve soldiered in enough places to have seen a successful Chieftain and I think you’re whipping these so called bogan chaps into a fine fervor. The Afghan Ghazi were an example – loaded up on hashish and religious mumbo jumbo and let loose on us unfortunate Brits. In any case I think you’ll have an army of these bogans at your call – they’ll make a damned fine fighting force. Just need to give the bruts enough Lynx and let them loose on the poor Mohammedan. Capital stuff. Of course the Colonel will be more than happy to serve, more than happy to enforce a bit of discipline – damned if I didn’t use the whip in Her Majesty’s force and damned if I wouldn’t with the Bolt expeditionary force.
Are you Fiona of Tooraks Dad? He is also a Colonel.
TBL #629. Singing Along To Power Ballads.
Party two doors down tonight. Someone has a guitar and a basic knowledge of how to use it. The singing has slowly grown louder as the night and beer consumption has progressed. Now it’s yell level. Out of tune, U2 singing, bogans.
Think I’ll wake them in the morning on my way home from the dawn service.
You are 100% correct Mick. Bogans also have no concept of how to keep the volume down on any of their media. If they did, they probably wouldn’t care anyway. We have bogan neighbours that think nothing of blaring music to the entire neighbourhood until 2am. It’s became quite a badge of honour to them to have the police come around to get them to turn it down or turn it off. That was until our next door neighbour got a restraining order on them. Not sure how it works, but they are not allowed to have excessive noise at certain times of the day or night. The next door neighbours are Germans and just got completely fed up. I feel like giving them a medal!
pet hate today, bogans dusting off their long dead great great grandfathers gongs and marching on Anzac Day in honour of their said long dead relative (that they probably didn’t even know) Simple fact is that they see real vets get their much deserved attention for one day of the year and in lieu of having the talent of play footy for Collingwood or the Bombers, they feel the need to gate crash the party by the easiest possible manner to feather their attention seeking egos.
My grandfather was in the Fijian army during WWII, and he fought with Australian soldiers in the Solomons. (He told me once that the reason he migrated to this country was because he believed any land which produced men like the diggers he fought with was a land worth living in). He was a war hero and has the medals to show it, although he doesn’t like talking about the war other than the people he served with and naturally I don’t press him.
Anyway, a few years ago he got permission from the RSL to march (with his grandkids by his side), but along the way some drunk pisshead bogans who would shit themselves in a war zone and have never given a day’s service to their country that they claim to be so proud off abused him. I wanted to go smack the shit out of them, but the old vet behind us went to town on them anyway. It was fun watching them.
Thanks for that story, Ash. I salute your grandfather. Like your grandfather, mine never talked much about his experiences either – he served in Kokoda and Borneo. All I know is that it turned him into a lifelong pacifist atheist.
This morning, I went to a Dawn Service out in the suburbs. Thankfully, no loutish bogan behaviour to be seen. At Dawn Services in the past I’ve seen people take the opportunity to wrap themselves up in a flag and daub some facepaint and engage in a bit of good ol’ “Aussie Aussie Aussie! Oi oi oi!” crap. Which gets me angry. How dare they dishonour my grandfather, your grandfather, and the one hundred thousand who never returned – the hundred thousand who never got to build a railway or teach a second grade class their times tables or write a symphony or captain the local cricket team or own a hardware shop in a small town or hold a newborn baby in their arms in the backyard while beaming with pride at an 8mm film movie camera.
But this morning, nothing but a thousand or so citizens, silent, solemn, dignified. No speeches glorifying war or jingoistic nonsense – instead, the local pastor leading a prayer for peace and beating swords into ploughshares, a lone piper playing “Abide With Me”, a roll call of local servicepeople who died, laying of wreaths, reciting the Ode, the Last Post shutting the kookaburras up.
What a relief. What a blessed relief.
Lest We Forget.
An elderly Indian chap who lives down the road – a WW2 veteran, BTW – was abused by a carload of f#*knobs on Anzac Day because they nearly reversed their F Off We’re Full-bedecked Supra into him in a carpark. Apparently, he took too long to get out of their way, earning him a “pi$$ off back to your own country, ya f%(&in’ currymuncher” for his sins.
There are days when I think Australia’s gun laws are a little too restrictive. This was one of those days.
Tonbarina,
Every true aussie not only wants but nowadays needs at least a 9 in the glove box or maybe the rh door pocket for quicker access.
Afriend from a previous life had a window sticker ” Have you ever seen an AK47 fired from a car window ? ”
I would use one on some of the idiots with a million watts of subwoofer making their cars jump like a lumpy camshaft.
I would shoot every arseclown I see who has jumped on the sleeve tatt bandwagon!
Simon, reeeealy revolting are those fake print pull on sleeves. They deserve at least two bores of SG !
The idiots with the sleeve tatts don’t realise that in a very small number of years the sun will bleach the colours and the whole things will be a messy smudge of greenishblue. A truly bad look
Look at it from the female perspective Simon, it’s like a (mental) health label….One look & you KNOW not to bother! :-D
I really must do a study! Just about every tradie where I work has one arm covered in tatts. Only one arm! They are the male version of the lower back tramp stamp that the femme bogue loves so much!
Walking down Hindly street (Adelaide) on Monday arvo at about 3pm was a bit of an experience. I’ve never seen so many drunk, rowdy, poorly dressed bogans in suits before. I assume they were involved somehow in the procession.
My teenage son and I were having a coffee at the local McCafe in bogan Boronia early on Anzac Day. This particular McCafe sits right on a railway station, so we witnessed plenty of bogans returning from the service. Some were part of groups and dressed up as such, just to make sure that they stood out. Completely unnecessary, but a bogan is like a peacockand must show off to the extreme. The TV screen in the McCafe was showing snippets of the service and they would talk at the top of their voices about it. I really felt like telling them that it is about quiet rememberance, not showboating. They wouldn’t understand.
You can say what you like about
crappy pizza but it’s popular.
One of my rellos owns a Dominos,
sold 500 pizzas yesterday, (Sunday).
Panda,
Most things that are
popular, are also
crap. Why is that?
Ask Nickelback.
fucken oath, meat lovers is the best!
Most females I know think this way. Most play sort too. Is this bad news for aussie girls?
You wouldn’t get away with serving this stuff from the roadside stall in Italy.
I’ll have a medium size roadkill thanks.