Bondi Cigar

 “God but I love being an Aussie”

So goes an anonymous email circulating workplace cubicles of Oz.

It so eloquently encapsulates this this great southern wide brown smudge, we thought it the basis of a great introductory lesson about Oztralya (Australia) – which BondiCigar’s editor has kindly and heavily annotated to a hyperlinked glossary of those odd terms.

[Navigation tip: Links in the text immediately below direct you to glossary at bottom of this page for definitions. After viewing definitions, click the back-arrow of your browser to return to the place you were reading. Saves endless scrolling]

Ode to the Odorous

“We are the people of a free nation of blokes, sheilas and wankers.  

 

The most innocent words are abusive when in derogative context, but these terms have always been used in a friendly teasing tone. ‘Sheila’ (plural -s) is almost archaic and rare, ‘bloke’ still fits in narrow context like “He’s a decent sorta bloke” or “An’ this bloke came up an’ said ..” while wanker, synonymous with poofter but technically an auto-poofter (tugger), is a great term for modern-day disparagement.

We come from many lands (although a few too many of us come from New Zealand), and although we live in the best country in the world, we reserve the right to bitch and moan about it whenever we bloody-well like.  

BondiCigar’s editorial policy, n’est-il pas? Some unkindly suggest we learned “wingeing” (complaining) from the Poms (English). Since the English founded the place, I guess the accusation is moot.

Australia comprises six states and two ‘Territorys‘

 

Compared to USA’s fifty-odd states for the same area, you can imagine how thinly-populated the island continent is.

Victoria is named after a queen who didn’t believe in lesbians.  Victoria is the realm of Mossimo turtlenecks, cafe latte, footy grand final day, and a big horse race.  Its capital is Melbourne, whose chief marketing pitch is that “it’s livable”.  At least that’s what they think.  The rest of us think it is too bloody cold and wet.

New South Wales is the realm of pastel shorts, macchiato with sugar, thin books read quickly and millions of dancing queens.  Its capital, Sydney, has more queens than any other city in the world and is proud of it.  Its mascots are Bondi lifesavers that pull their Speedos up their cracks to keep the left and right sides of their brains apart.

Tasmania is a State based on the notion that the family that bonks together stays together.  In Tassie, everyone gets an extra chromosome at conception.  Maps of the State bring smiles to the sternest faces.  It holds the world record for a single mass shooting, which the Yanks can’t seem to beat no matter how often they try.

South Australia is the province of half-decent reds, a festival of foreigners and bizarre axe murders.  SA is the state of innovation.  Where else can you so effectively reuse country bank vaults and barrels to store dismembered bodies.  They had the Grand Prix, but lost it when the views of Adelaide sent the Formula One drivers to sleep at the wheel.

Western Australia is too far from anywhere to be relevant.  It’s main claim to fame is that it doesn’t have daylight saving because if it did, all the men would get erections on the bus on the way to work.  WA was the last state to stop importing convicts and many of them still work there in the government and business.

The Northern Territory is the red heart of our land.  Outback plains, and dusty kids with big smiles.  It also has the highest beer consumption of anywhere on the planet and its creek beds have the highest aluminum content of anywhere too.  Although the Territory is the center piece of our national culture, few of us live there and the rest prefer to flyover it on our way to Bali.

One Missing? Not really. Queensland is not  part of Australia.

And there’s Queensland. While any mention of God seems silly in a document defining a nation of half-arsed skeptics, it is worth noting that God probably made Queensland, as its beautiful one day and perfect the next.  Why he filled it with dickheads remains a mystery.

Home of too many grey-headed, grey-minded, self-satisfied wealthy retirees, the Oztralyan equivalent of Miami and South Carolina rolled into one giant schmoz.

Oh yes and there’s the Australian Capitol Territory (ACT) containing Canberra.  The less said the better.

We, the citizens of Oztralya, are united by single-lane “Highways,” whose treacherous twists and turns kill more of us each year than murderers.  We are united in our lust for international recognition, so desperate for praise we leap in joy when a rag tag gaggle of corrupt IOC officials tells us Sydney is better than Beijing.  We are united by a democracy so flawed that a political party, albeit a redneck gun-toting one, can get a million votes and still not win one seat in Federal Parliament.

Not that we’re complaining, we leave that to our Pommy immigrants, affectionately termed “pommie bastards,” especially during cricket tests against England.

We want to make “no worries mate” our national phrase, “she’ll be right mate” our national attitude and “Waltzing Matilda” our national anthem (even though about a sheep-stealing criminal who commits suicide).  We love sport so much our news readers can read the death toll from a sailing race and still tell us who’s winning.

And we’re the best in the world at all the sports that count, like cricket, swimming, netball, rugby league and union, AFL, roo shooting, two up and horse racing.  We also have the biggest rock, the tastiest pies, and the worst-dressed Olympians in the known universe.  Only in Australia can a pizza delivery get to your house faster than an ambulance.

Only in Australia do we have bank doors wide open, no security guards, or cameras, but chain the pens to the desk.

Stand proud Aussies – a nation that eats roots and leaves.  We are girt by sea and pissed by lunchtime.  Even though we are a racist, closed-minded, sports-obsessed little people, at least we feel better for it.

P.S: We also shoot and eat the two animals on our National Crest – the Kangaroo and Emu.

—– End of Peroration —–

Definitions

ACT – Australian Capitol Territory – As the man said, the less said about it the better. I believe this backgrounder will settle the issue.

AFL – (Australian Football League) – ‘Aussie Rules’ – The only sport in the world sporting an oxymoron for a name and a few dozen morons on the paddock. And we use the term ‘football’ very loosely indeed.

This bizarre, ill-mannered game – the deformed bastard child of despicable unwashed rabble enjoying rare leisure activity – in its modern form comprises a circus-grotesque of reeeally large blokes in really tiny short-shorts and comical goal umpires looking like well-dressed pedophiles (and who actually respond to the crowd’s bellow “how long is yer dick, ref?” by indicating with two forefingers).

Based heavily on schoolyard brawls wherein children chased a tennis ball in a free-for-all, having no rules other than that of said schoolyard (ie: the law of the jungle), and whoever so unluckily got a-hold of it was literally attacked by the dispossessed (and, to social scientists, possessed) mob.

The essential, overriding characteristic of the game is that no one ever gets to hold the ball as the butter-fingered muscle-bound idiots have no opposing thumbs, and run around this huuuge paddock kicking at the ball and clawing at one another’s faces but only ever make contact with balls (plural) or heads (plural for some of the chaps from more polluted environs) of opponents, though that’s not a rule they’re aware of.

Do I make any sense? No, nor does this sport, which all explains why only Victorians love it.

biggest rock – We whiteys grew up calling it Ayers Rock, after the very reddish whitey (been in the hot desert sun for some weeks sans sunblock) William Goss stubbed his toe on it in 1873 and yelped “Curse you, Ayers, you’ve rock in yer head” a reference to Henry Ayers, South Australia’s Chief Secretary who had skimped on the expedition’s steel-capped boots.

Anyhows, one day, about a decade ago, Ayers Rock (apparently literally) disappeared leaving thousands of gray nomads in camper vans (RVs to you seppos) circling in the desert in confusion. Eventually a black tracker set them straight (indigenous folk are very good at desert things) pointing to the newly erected signs indicating “Uluru.”

big horse race – aka Melbourne Cup – You’ve probably heard of it, just like you’ve heard of the Kentucky Derby or some Grand Steeple Chase owned by the Queen of England. Those of us who both live in Oztralya AND are not interested in horse racing .. well, quite frankly we wish we hadn’t heard of it.

The entire nation, in a frenzy of misplaced excitement, has decided to adopt this meaningless event as the greatest day of the year - since Christ’s birth and resurrection are no longer PC. With positively strained festivity simply everyone stops work to watch on TV what is simply the most boring concept imaginable – a few dozen stupid, over-pampered nags bolt anti-clockwise for three minutes.

Sigh. To cap a disastrously wasted day, those who impolitely deign to expect news that night instead find bulletins comprising 97.5% horse shit – even the bloody weather. Further sigh.

bizarre axe murders – aka Snowtown Murders – Enjoy this detailed article written by a pseudonym (as all the best stuff is).

blokes – Well, “men!” At least, Oztrilian men, who have scientifically measured and proven greater “mateship” than any other of the species homo erectus. A mateship bordering on the most sinister and convoluted strain of homosexuality known to that same science, surpassing even the foul relationship between Roman centurions and their horses, a deviance bordering on homeopathically homicidal.

And remember, I’m referring to “Australian Mateship” which rears its head (so to speak) in army barracks, football teams, schoolyards and street gangs – and has nothing to do with perfectly normal gays.

Bondi lifesavers – Now THAT’S an icon. See the guy in wearing the funny cap at top-left of this (and every other) page in the banner image? And, in case this is your first visit here, our home page explains Bondi from slightly left-field.

bonks – Nothing to see here, folks, move along – as in “Honey I Bonked the Kids,” etc.

cracks – Related indirectly to bonk in a sort of ‘drilling for Vegemite’ kinda way. Anatomically termed “buttcrack,” “asscrack,” or “gluteal cleft.”

dancing queens – A virile form of homosexual, usually male, who dances away the night in pantomime re-enactment of the fabled “ass-cracker suite,” the story of a young gay prince who spent a night of agony searching for a 24-hour pharmacist (drug store) who might stock Anusol or an equivalent. The annual re-enactment now a feature of the City of Sydney’s gay community Mardi Gras.

death toll from a sailing race – Obscure reference to a particular Sydney to Hobart yacht race that had – as the nightly TV newstainment so reliably label almost anything – “gone horribly wrong.”

dickheads – Any Australians, though in this case the Queensland species.

festival of foreigners – Foreigners, that’s you, dear reader! Now there’s something you should understand, even if Australians don’t. See also, regarding the other half, Adelaide Festival of

footy – The aforementioned nonsense regarding typically male sublimated psychosexual competitive activities involving a pigs bladder and much chasing with frequent quadriplegia. And preferably in stiflingly-lethal heat of summer. The ball is not round and hands-on is mandatory. So you can see, it’s not soccer but some strange male-bonding variant of little entertainment value and less skill. Oh of course, refer AFL above!

girt by sea – As most large islands are (though we claim to be a continent, though early geographers were maybe alluring to “incontinent.”

half-arsed – Refer to “cracks” above, but consider only one buttock, left or right, it’s not important which. This is the way things are done in any small wannabe banana republic.

half-decent reds – A cold-war term referring to the more sociable communist of which South Australia was full. They drank a lot of red wine and consequently were too pissed to overthrow the gummint.

highest aluminum content – A cute swipe at the number of beer cans littering same.

importing convicts – Don’t get me started.

Maps of the State (.. of Tasmania) - This is the nation’s longest running joke. Tasmania is shaped like the female mons veneris (or the male mons pubis, if you remove that hilarious appendage) and in adults is delineated by the hairline of the great forests of pubic follicles. For Australians of Middle Eastern appearance, the female anatomy in this region more likely resembles the familiar camel toe. Thus, for all Aussies, visualizing Tasmania invokes involuntary hysteria.

nation that eats roots and leaves – Willie the Wombat syndrome.

New South Wales – It’s new, it’s south, but it ain’t Wales. They were just homesick. It sorta named itself.

Northern Territory – It’s north, it ain’t a state, it’s a “territory” (a state with insufficient people to form a quorum) – and it sucks if you’re hoping for a white Christmas. Wiki Northern Territory. Where would we be without WikiPedia? NT is not the only ‘Territory’ actually. We have lots of ‘territories’ because you never know when you might want to knock up the odd immigrant detention center in some out-of-the-way place.

no worries mate -  I do  have worries and I’m not your mate.

Oztralya – You’re standing in it.

pissed by lunchtime – Pissed, as in too much liquor, not American cranky. And any time of the day is before lunchtime.

political party, albeit a redneck gun-toting one – Asked if she was xenophobic, Ms Pauline Hansen replied “Please explain.” Which no-one has been able to, any more than they can the Sydney race riots of December 2005. And the two are NOT UNRELATED.

pommie bastards – The undisputed cause of the Sydney race riots of December 2005 – with the help of them Lebbos.

Queensland – The misplaced other half of Victoria. Refer item ‘political party’ just above for the reason to be afraid of Queenslanders. 

roo shooting – Now we are in a really weird place.

The practice of spotlighting kangaroos [is not only] .. cruel and barbaric, but .. serves .. as a male bonding ritual. This social function is now less an insulated one .. inseparable from the spectacle of urban Australia, but this shift is simply to transfer the need for “the other” from the target of an insecure insulated group to become the target of an insecure mass society. Here, “the other” describes a fake enemy. Those who hate or envy us because of our values, not because of what we do.   .. Stephen Smith.

PS: Roo shooting is also jolly good fun.

sheilas – As a ‘bloke’ would explain it to his ‘mate’ a sheila is a bloke without a donga, just a plain map of Tasmania with two white pointers. If there’s anything else about sheilas, well, he’s probably not really sure.

she’ll be right mate- “she’ll” = she will + be right mate. The ‘she’ in question is not a sheila so much as life itself. Que sera, sera – optimistic, not fatalistic.

single mass shooting – This collective phrase needs a little background. Tasmania (you’re beginning to see it as Australians do: Tasmania) is, it might surprise the dear foreigner, STILL a convict colony, with many of the incarcerated on day release in that forlorn cold wet little island. Some cut down trees and pulp them, others build hydro-electric dams and flood prehistoric tracts of irreplaceable world heritage.

Many lurk for years near their old stockade, occasionally emerging from the environs to re-enact their glory days as bush rangers. Others are simply criminally insane sociopaths (you know, the ones indistinguishable from the general populace). To truly endear Tassi as a tourist destination, try this alternate rendition of Ostrilia’s macabre potential.

Speedos – As in riding up gluteal clefts. First, an aside (as if this entire article isn’t): A fabled and beloved Oztrilian comedian Norman Gunston explained “why underpants ride up” in terms of an Aboriginal dreamtime legend.

Underpants are, he proffered, imbued with ancient spirits that still seek the freedom of their carnate form, futilely seeking flight though wrapped around human genitalia (and gluteal clefts). Like a dreamtime wedgie. Speedos have a similar spirit. What’s a Speedo? What Koalas wear to the beach, you fool! Sort of the Victa, Kingswood or Hills-Hoist of swim wear (what, that didn’t help?).

South Australia – Not as far south as the rest of us wish. If not for New South Wales, Queensland, Northern Territory and Western Australia, it would be known as the “Desert State,” its tiny green parts relegated to the south-eastern corner. Other claims to fame are an Atom bomb testing range – where the British confirmed Australians were unaffected by severe radiation, leastways intellectually.

And a space rocket program based at Woomera, sold off to India fifty years ago when the brilliant strategic thinkers in the Government of the day premonitionally foreshadowed the day of the bean counter and deduced this “space thingy” was a passing fad. Oh, yes, South Australia was also famous for a fabulously-gay State Premier, Don Dunstan.

Tasmania – Covered at length above under “Map of Tasmania,” and also by ladies apparel. An observation  stands of Tasmania that it’s short history contains acts of violence against people and nature that pale the world’s great atrocities.

The Port Arthur massacre, Tasmanian Aborigine genocide, Franklin River desecration, Lake Pedder inundation, Tasmanian Tiger extinction,  Queenstown’s ore smelter moonscape. Hmmm, mountain folk can be might scary.

tastiest pies – If by “tastiest” you are referring to a disgusting yet beloved form of pre-fabricated food affectionately known (and by no means incorrectly) as “maggot bags” then you are steadfastly utterly wrong. Australia has absolutely the shittiest pies in the known Universe.

two up – Until the mafia dragged Australian gambling screaming by the short and curlies into the twentieth century, “two up” was Oztralya’s quintessential gambling addiction. Casinos were once NOT air-conditioned glittering palaces costing millions of dollars a day to run – they were a bunch of idiots in a vacant lot tossing a single bloody coin in the air. Heads or bloody Tails? And that was it! Now you get to wager the family pay packet in absolute comfort, with complimentary drinks – and the House always bloody wins!

Victoria – As per Tasmania, except wider.

Waltzing Matilda – Probably .. no, definitely, the single worst song ever written. Which explains why the population of Oztralya love it so much. (Yes, I’m aware dear foreign reader, that explains nothing)

wankers – Australian males.

Western Australia – Except for the Hunter Valley in New South Wales, this state is the largest quarry on the face of the Earth. And except for .. yada yada ..would also be known as the “Desert State.” And it’s so far from the rest of Australia that we on the East Coast sometimes mistakenly call it”Western Austria.” Hmmm, dear Western Australia, how else may I insult thee?