The Anti-Australian thread

[suityou01]

Can't we hate the French instead, it's traditional and with no rational reason

<cough>
<rustle>
I have here in my hand a piece of paper. (Listing the reasons)
<cough>

[RichardCranium]

<cough>
<rustle>
I have here in my hand a piece of paper. (Listing the reasons)
<cough>

Is it peace in our time?

Edit: Sorry, that was an Austrian.

[amcdonald]

Is it peace in our time?

Edit: Sorry, that was an Austrian.

You sure it wasn't peas in our time, didn't John Major say that one

[Paddy]

You sure it wasn't peas in our time, didn't John Major say that one

thym

[darmstadt]

Something I wrote a long time ago:

Which Englishman has not dreamt of emigrating to this
cultural paradise with it's glorious climate, subtropical
contrasts, sun kissed beaches and Opera House?


The Men



All the foul mouthed, muscle headed Australian heterosexuals
are over here writing novels and shop-lifting. The men left
at home are largely homosexuals, transvestites and
collectors of decadent Viennese Art. All the women look
like Olivia Newton-John, but so do all the men. Sydney, in
fact, not San Francisco, is the drag capital of the world.
The parade of blond, muscle-bound, homosexual men on Bondi
and Kirribillee is internationally famous, but less
adequately built Englishmen in these locations may yet do
well simply by offering to oil the topless girls, whether or
not they are accompanied by their 'gayboy'. If he attempts
to interfere, push him gently but firmly aside - their
musculature is strictly for show.



The evolutionary effect of this widespread inversion and
surfboard bonding is that it now takes an average of eight
Australian men to satisfy one woman. This results in the
practice known as 'next cab off the rank'. An English girl
who couples with an Australian should know that she will be
expected to oblige consecutively his peers as well, up to
the number of eight. The phenomenon also accounts for
Australia's all-white immigration party, for fear of
spoiling the domestic market with unfair competition.



The Women



The gratitude of Australian women brought to a climax is
famous throughout the world and accounts for the often
substandard performance of visiting sporting teams kept up
all night by the wives of the Australian representatives.
That some English Test teams were too boss-eyed to find a
way to the wicket on recent Test tours is not to be taken to
be a matter of wonder.



Because normal Australian housewives are for the above
reasons, prepared to do anything with any foreigner who
asks, prostitution is rare. (On a recent fact finding
mission to Darwin, my investigator formed a sexual
connection with a domestic air hostess in the Nothing To
Declare queue before setting foot in Australia proper.)
However, women may be paid a modest honorarium - the unit of
currency is often a jumboburger - and this is not thought to
indicate a moral lapse?



The Most Common Form Of Sexual Activity



Casual lesbianism is often resorted to by housewives, and
their favourite practice is to smear themselves with
Vegemite at Tupperware parties and lick each other clean.



Venues For Tupperware Parties



746 Inkerman Drive, Sydney 4006
612 Marine Avenue, sydney 7070
4006 Marie Celeste Road, Melbourne (Marmite is preferred
here, Melbourne being a trifle more sophisticated than it's
brash sister, Sydney.)



Nightclubs, Bondage Bars and Venues for Meeting Dental
Hygienists



The Duke Of Devonshire ('Soft lights and candles up your
pussy'), 1347 Kings Cross, Sydney, caters for most tastes.
Visitors are welcome and most credit cards are taken.



What They Think Of Us


Handsome, raffish cavaliers whose occasional failings at the
wicket are more than compensated for by our off the seam
successes in bed.

[darmstadt]

And for those who hate the French:

Which of us under twenty has not thrilled to the
anything-goes philosophy of Jean-Paul Sartre?


The Girls.



All the tarts in the Bois de Boulogne are Algerian
transvestites, but their banter is both winning and witty.
Actual French prostitutes are the rudest and most expensive
in Europe. What you could get for $50 in London will cost
you 1000ff in Paris. At La Grande Pipe, 4 Rue de Douai,
Place Pigalle, the girls, unaware that my investigator spoke
excellent French, sneered at his technique and raucously
called out his deficiencies to their colleagues working in
adjacent rooms. Such establishments are best avoided, since
the girls have breasts like fried eggs and enormous pubic
bushes reeking of garlic. An exception to this rule are the
black girls imported from Africa who climax like
firecrackers. As soon as penetration takes place they go
BANG! Then they don't want to know you. Better to visit the
famous Crazy Horse Saloon behind the Champs Elysees. Here
you will not be sneered at by the artistes: you are expected
to take them back to your hotel after the show, and you will
not be expected to pay. They are all English, however.
Upper class French girls combine sulkiness with glorious
French chic and are even ruder than the tarts. they are
famed for their prudishness throughout the world and will
only accept dinner dates if accompanied by the concierge, a
monosyllabic old crone who will see that they are home by
midnight and whom you will be expected to tip heavily.



The Men



A certain historic animosity exists between the yeomanry of
out two countries, but if you are a certain age and class,
your host will throw a cocktail party in your honour, which
your wife will be expected to attend without her knickers.
As she arrives, lawyers, doctors, philosophers and
politicians will raise her skirt and politely compliment her
on her bottom. After introductory martinis, the guests will
disrobe on the word 'salut'. The host will then take your
wife to the centre of the room, where, to scattered
applause, he will couple with her sophisticatedly. Even
under the socialist regime of President Mitterand, it is
possible to meet most of the French Establishment at parties
of this sort, the best of which are still given by M.
Jean-Jacques Goupil, the toothpaste manufacturer, in spite
of the bad publicity his parties received when, after one of
them, the naked body of Natalie Delon's daughter was found
in a polythene rubbish bag in the grounds of M. Goupil's
country estate. In France, such scandals are thought to be
part and parcel of la vie en rose.



Useful Phrases


Un couillon - a policeman
Un sale con anglais - a tourist

[EternalOptimist]

casual lesbianism ???

fool


this is the ANTI australian thread. you are lost mate