Lifestyle Values

Basically, every Australian is always having a barbecue, or “barbie”. Unless they’re inner city Millennials in which case they’re always having smashed Avocados and whining about their parents not dying yet.

Australians worship barbecued burnt bacon, eggs and sausage for breakfast, barbecued burnt sausage and onion sandwich for lunch and barbecued burnt steak and sausage for dinner. Barbecue meat is always marinated in VB* 

* (except in the inner city where it has to be a “craft” beer like Young Henry’s IPA and except in Leichhardt and Carlton and the whole of Adelaide, where they have barbecued wogmeat for every meal washed down with a barbecued imported chardonnay before they go off and have a committee meeting of the marxist socialist alliance or what is called the “greens”).

Aussies have barbecues because they are a spiritual people and it says they have to in the bible:

And he shall put his hand upon the head of the burnt offering; and it shall be accepted for him to make A NOICE LUNCH for his mates.

And he shall kill the bullock and shall bring the blood, and sprinkle the blood round about upon the barbie for the mates.

And he shall flay the burnt offering, and slice it into “cuts”.

And the Bloke shall put fire upon the barbie, and lay the Fatsorb, the Smoking Chips and the Heat Beads in order upon the fire:

And he shall lay the cuts in order upon the grill plate that [is] on the fire which [is] within the barbie:

And the Bloke shall burn all upon the barbie, [to be] a burnt sacrifice, an offering made by fire, of a sweet savour unto the MATES.

That’s all.
Aussies don’t eat veggies.

Australians value the Pavlova and the Lamington.

Lamingtons are scarce. They are hard to catch because they are always running away and jumping off cliffs.

Pavlova was a mad Russian who liked to tease dogs. 

Australians don’t value Vegemate. They pray to it as a black deity. If you want to be an Aussie you have to prove you like it by eating it out of a jar with a spoon.

Australia is a big country almost entirely covered in suburbs. There is a little bit in the middle where we keep some special things like the last remaining farmers and a few original Australians but we don’t know much about them. And there’s a big rock, and there’s a small hill we spray white in the winter. Real Aussies don’t ski. They pose around in silly-looking boiler suits and a couple of planks and drink heaps of wog drinks like gluwein and get completely pissed and then go back to Sinney and Melborough and Carnberry and strut around in front of their mates who, mate, don’t really want to know. 

Dean Jones was a Great Aussie Bloke. He said what he thought about people with full beards like Hashim Amla – who wasn’t really a terrorist – and presumably he would have said the same joke about Dr W. G. Grace (left), the inventor of the game of Critic, if he was a darkie and not so white and also dead. He’s not politically correct and that’s what makes Deano a GAB. Plus, he creamed the Poms lots so he’ll be made an archangel when God puts up the finger.

UPDATE: St Peter has confirmed that Deano has indeed been anointed as heaven’s newest Archangel. His sins have been forgiven and he is teaching all the lesser angels how to cream the Poms. Sir Roger is very sad but looks forward to meeting Deano amongst the clouds one day. 

John Hopoate was  a Great Aussie Bloke because he demonstrated how God puts up the finger.

Barry Humphreys could of been a Great Aussie Bloke because he made us piss ourselves laughing, but he wore a dress.

Donald Bradman was a Great Aussie Bloke before he ascended into heaven to sitteth on the right hand of the father (who told him to “git yer arse orf me fuckin’ hand ya bastard”). Although he was a pompous, narrow-minded old turd (Don, not god… although now you mention it, god… let’s leave it there… ), that didn’t count because although he was sat on his backside and taken for a duck by an Aboriginal fast bowler he smashed the Poms at cricket lots and lots of times and anyone who can give the Poms heaps is God’s right-hand man and a Great Aussie Bloke and a Saint.

Boonie was a Great Aussie bloke who sank 52 tinnies on the plane between here and London and still got up and thrashed the Poms at cricket. (You have to understand that if a girl did that it would be disgusting and unseemly. It’s also extremely unhealthy and bad for the liver. And it’s not a turn-on to see a girlie vomiting.)

Bloody Shane Warne was a Super Great Aussie Bloke, especially for a wanker. He did Gatting for a duck with his first ball in England, a drifting leg spin that’s the best ball ever bowled. And he doesn’t smoke. Oh, wait ..

BUT…

most Great Aussie Blokes these days are women because lots (not all) of the men are pretty shit. 

Cathy Freeman has been crowned the Queen of Great Aussie Blokes.
Cathy Freeman single-handedly won the 2000 Olympics for Australia. That makes her an honorary Australian, and a white man and a Great Aussie Bloke.

The Australian Women’s Cricket Team is a Great Aussie Bloke.
They’re more successful at kicking Pommie arse than anyone.

The Australian Women’s Soccer Team is a Great Aussie Bloke.
The Matildas thrashed more international teams in a year than all the Australian men’s teams ever.

The Australian Women’s Netball Team is a Great Aussie Bloke.
The Diamonds are the best bloody women’s team ever. They don’t know how to stop making Kiwis cry.

The Australian Women’s Basketball Team is a Great Aussie Bloke.
The Opals can’t stop themselves winning World Championships.

The Women’s AFL Teams are Great Aussie Blokes.
They keep on showing the men’s teams how to do it.

The Women’s NRL Teams are Great Aussie Blokes. They play much more interesting games than the overpaid Drones in the male teams and they’re not like Union players; they don’t tweet fucking stupid crazy-in-the-head religious bullshit and get paid millions for it.

Ash Barty is a Great Aussie Bloke. She’s Number One. She’s better at cricket than most of the men and she’s better at tennis than any of the Australian men since Rosewall. In fact she’s probably better than him. And she’s got real class, more class than all the bloody upstart snivelling tantrum throwing Australian men.     

Tayla Harris is a Truly Great Aussie Bloke.

She’s got brilliant athletic skill.

She’s got brilliant execution.

She’s got brilliant game intelligence.

She’s got massive determination and commitment and belief.

She’s fearless and she’s strong.

She shows up the men every time she plays.

And mostly she’s got the mental strength and maturity to stare down the stupid prickless wonders who try to belittle her because she’s a woman, and to make them look really small and insignificant.

(Plus she’s a boxer. That’s why those cowards don’t say that crap in person.)

What a fantastic Aussie Bloke!

In fact pretty much all Aussie Women are Great Australian Blokes