Adelaide Glass Aerobridges
Join Date: Sep 2003
Location: Oz
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Yer a tad sensitive P47. What Timmeee said about Adelaidians speakin' diffrent ta us other Aussies is spot on, mate.
They've got the same Pommy sorta twang to a lotta their words like the Kiwis from the South Island 'ave got. Words like "pull' insteda pool.
Anyways I'm orf ta have a pie floater with mushy peas, an ta wash it down with a Southwark.
We ain't sayin' Adelaides a bad place mate, just that she's diffrent - an so're the people from there.
Be seein' youse round!
They've got the same Pommy sorta twang to a lotta their words like the Kiwis from the South Island 'ave got. Words like "pull' insteda pool.
Anyways I'm orf ta have a pie floater with mushy peas, an ta wash it down with a Southwark.
We ain't sayin' Adelaides a bad place mate, just that she's diffrent - an so're the people from there.
Be seein' youse round!
Join Date: Feb 2002
Location: Sydney, Australia
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P47.
We are a sensitive little princess aren't we schnookums?
Does Mummy still tuck you in at night and give you a cut lunch and pocket money before you go to work?
Or perhaps you'e going to get your 16 year old 145 kg sister to punch me out then sit on me and make me disappear?
She can bring along her skinhead & beany wearing mates from out the back of the Holden plant if that makes you feel better P47.
I too could stoop to your level and call you a living argument for birth control or something similar - but I wont.
You have "nothing to add" P47 which is perhaps where you should have started in the first place !
Oz Ocker, spot on also about the weird (and often pommy) pronunciation of certain words from our twisted and synaptic pathway damaged Adelaide brethren.
I agree, must be that pommy influence and something they put in that murky Adelaide water.
P47 - and your crybaby whiny-assed response would be....?
Just remember P47, sarcasm is just one more service we offer outside of South Australia !
We are a sensitive little princess aren't we schnookums?
Does Mummy still tuck you in at night and give you a cut lunch and pocket money before you go to work?
Or perhaps you'e going to get your 16 year old 145 kg sister to punch me out then sit on me and make me disappear?
She can bring along her skinhead & beany wearing mates from out the back of the Holden plant if that makes you feel better P47.
I too could stoop to your level and call you a living argument for birth control or something similar - but I wont.
You have "nothing to add" P47 which is perhaps where you should have started in the first place !
Oz Ocker, spot on also about the weird (and often pommy) pronunciation of certain words from our twisted and synaptic pathway damaged Adelaide brethren.
I agree, must be that pommy influence and something they put in that murky Adelaide water.
P47 - and your crybaby whiny-assed response would be....?
Just remember P47, sarcasm is just one more service we offer outside of South Australia !
Join Date: May 2004
Location: Brisvegas
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How irrelevant and pathetic!
You two guys deserve each other ( I wont go there but it just may be a popular thing in Adelaide!).
Also both of you clowns obviously cant spot a wind-up if it hit you both fare smack in the face.
Loosen up people.
Besides,we all like to knock our sicko compatriots in SA dont we?
P47 and Jungmeister must be a laugh a minute and great fun to fly with............... NOT!!!
Grandpa Aerotart
No...this is not a Chuck original...but I wish it was!!!!!
WE, the people of the broad brown land of Oz, wish to be recognised as a free nation of blokes, sheilas and the occasional boong. 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 like.
WE are One Nation but we're divided into many States. First, there's Victoria, named after a queen who didn't believe in lesbians. Victoria is the realm of Massimo turtlenecks, cafe latte, grand final day and big horse races. Its capital is Melbourne, whose chief marketing pitch is that it's "liveable." At least that's what they think. The rest of us think it is too bloody cold and wet.
Next, there's NSW, 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. It's mascots are Bondi lifesavers who pull their Speedos up their cracks to keep the left and right sides of their brains separate.
Down south we have Tasmania, 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 re-use country bank vaults and barrels as in Snowton, just out of Adelaide (also named after a queen). 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 in this document. 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, sheep stations the size of Europe, kangaroos, jackaroos, emus, Uluru 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 aluminium content of anywhere too. Although the Territory is the centrepiece of our national culture, few of us live there and the rest prefer to fly over it on our way to Bali.
And there's Queensland. While any mention of God seems silly in a document defining a nation of half-arsed agnostics, it is worth noting that God probably made Queensland. Why he filled it with dickheads remains a mystery.
Oh yes, and there's Canberra. The least said the better.
We, the citizens of Oz, are united by the Pacific Highway, whose treacherous twists and turns kill more of us each year than die by murder. We are united in our lust for international recognition, so desperate for praise we leap in joy when a ragtag 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 while Brian bloody Harradine can get 24,000 votes and run the whole country. Not that we're whingeing, we leave that to our Pommy immigrants. We want to make "no worries mate" our national phrase, "she'll be right mate" our national attitude, and "Waltzing Matilda" our national anthem (so what if it's about a sheep-stealing crim who commits suicide).
We love sport so much our newsreaders can read the death toll from a sailing race and still tell us who's winning in the same breath. And we're the best in the world at all the sports that count, like cricket, netball, rugby, AFL, roo-shooting, two-up and horse racing. We also have the biggest rock, the tastiest pies, the blackest aborigines, the worst-dressed Olympians in the known universe. We don't know much about art but we know we hate the poofs who make it. We shoot, we vote. We are girt by sea and pissed by lunchtime. And even though we might seem a racist, closed-minded, sports-obsessed little people, at least we're better than the Kiwis.
WE, the people of the broad brown land of Oz, wish to be recognised as a free nation of blokes, sheilas and the occasional boong. 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 like.
WE are One Nation but we're divided into many States. First, there's Victoria, named after a queen who didn't believe in lesbians. Victoria is the realm of Massimo turtlenecks, cafe latte, grand final day and big horse races. Its capital is Melbourne, whose chief marketing pitch is that it's "liveable." At least that's what they think. The rest of us think it is too bloody cold and wet.
Next, there's NSW, 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. It's mascots are Bondi lifesavers who pull their Speedos up their cracks to keep the left and right sides of their brains separate.
Down south we have Tasmania, 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 re-use country bank vaults and barrels as in Snowton, just out of Adelaide (also named after a queen). 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 in this document. 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, sheep stations the size of Europe, kangaroos, jackaroos, emus, Uluru 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 aluminium content of anywhere too. Although the Territory is the centrepiece of our national culture, few of us live there and the rest prefer to fly over it on our way to Bali.
And there's Queensland. While any mention of God seems silly in a document defining a nation of half-arsed agnostics, it is worth noting that God probably made Queensland. Why he filled it with dickheads remains a mystery.
Oh yes, and there's Canberra. The least said the better.
We, the citizens of Oz, are united by the Pacific Highway, whose treacherous twists and turns kill more of us each year than die by murder. We are united in our lust for international recognition, so desperate for praise we leap in joy when a ragtag 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 while Brian bloody Harradine can get 24,000 votes and run the whole country. Not that we're whingeing, we leave that to our Pommy immigrants. We want to make "no worries mate" our national phrase, "she'll be right mate" our national attitude, and "Waltzing Matilda" our national anthem (so what if it's about a sheep-stealing crim who commits suicide).
We love sport so much our newsreaders can read the death toll from a sailing race and still tell us who's winning in the same breath. And we're the best in the world at all the sports that count, like cricket, netball, rugby, AFL, roo-shooting, two-up and horse racing. We also have the biggest rock, the tastiest pies, the blackest aborigines, the worst-dressed Olympians in the known universe. We don't know much about art but we know we hate the poofs who make it. We shoot, we vote. We are girt by sea and pissed by lunchtime. And even though we might seem a racist, closed-minded, sports-obsessed little people, at least we're better than the Kiwis.
