Fuck you cunts, I love you 

Today is Australia Day and I am 6768km away in the depths of winter, cold and at times, with snow. My fellow Aussies Down Under are sweltering in temperatures of 30 degrees Celsius plus, most with humidity that causes sweat to trickle down their backs and sometimes, their bum cracks. 

Australia Day is a National holiday and the one day of the year where you can be as fiercely patriotic as you want and it is perfectly acceptable. No one will call you a wanker, unless you are mate. Then we’ll tell you to piss off. 

Come to think of it, Aussies are pretty bloody patriotic ALL the time, not just on the 26th January. This day just gives us extra incentive or perhaps opportunity or reason to dress up in green and gold or red, blue and white and to plaster our faces with Australian flag tattoos. 

What kind of Aussie am I then if I can’t stand pavlova (apparently it’s from NZ anyway), I’m not a huge fan of Tim Tams and I absolutely detest Vegemite? And I live in a country that I feel more at home in than I ever did in Australia. 

I can’t answer that. And yet I can talk with absolute passion about my native land. I am fiercely patriotic and I know exactly what it means to be Australian. 
We breed em tough down there. I guess in a country where everything is trying to kill you you have to be. Or you die. 

I don’t have any friends who are girly girls. Mate we need to be strong and brave. I have no problem killing snakes when I need to and I have a filthy fucking mouth. I will say whatever I think whether you like it or not. If you like me you like me, if you don’t, I don’t fucking care.

Anyway this post isn’t about that, it’s about an Aussie tradition and the sentiments I want to send to my fellow Aussies. 

Fuck you, you mad fucking cunts. One day I’ll be back… Until then…


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