As an Australian-born-and-bred publication, we’ve had a pretty tumultuous relationship with it. I mean, on one hand, it’s a day brings our great nation together (for the most part, of course), but then there’s things like this and this. But one thing that never changes is that it’s a day that brings out the biggest fuckwits in our great land. So instead of sinking tinnies (who are we kidding, we’re doing that as well), we’ve compiled a list of things that will definitively, scientifically, prove you were a fuckwit this Australia day.
Score four or higher, and we’re sorry to say, you don’t deserve friends.
You forced everyone to let you ‘run’ the BBQ.
Cooking a few sizzle steaks isn’t fucking rocket science, but thanks for taking one of the team. You da real MVP.
You chucked up before the BBQ.
Vomiting after the BBQ is fine. We all know that. You can blast your Coles snags all over your Aunty ten minutes after you threw ‘em back, but if you’re that dude who vomits BEFORE the God-damn BBQ, oh my Lord. Did you pour metho on your cereal? How does that even happen?
You did anything remotely racist.
Too cliché? Sure, but you know that it’s the most applicable thing on this entire list, and a really, really good indicator that at one point or another, a friend-of-a-friend did that small head nod toward you to another friend-of-a-friend, then they both just nodded, at if to say, “people like that still really exist?” Yeah, unfortunately they do.
You yelled out a car window.
This is usually done in conjunction with the world YEW. It’s surprisingly common. In fact, it happened to me this morning. He must have had an accent through because it sounded like he said FAT. Strange.
You were fangin’ for a Zinger burger by 4pm, drunk drove to get one.
I once saw a bloke in a Ripcurl cutoff eat a Zinger burger in twelve seconds, pound his Mountain Dew, toss the chips in his cup holder and hightail his way out of the KFC faster than you could say ‘do the dew’. Sure, this could apply to a Big Mac, kebab (FYI: watch Kebab Kings if you hadn’t) but that memory, at least for me, is just as golden as that delicious chicken old Colonel pumps out.
You got really angry at around 6pm and tried to fight a mate.
It just always happens. And there’s generally some chick named Shelly involved. Kev said something and Shelly took offence then Greg cracked him in the earlobe Or maybe it’s even less. Maybe Damo said the two of them only needed a cube of VB and Rick wanted a cube AND two tallies. And then they ran out. So they glassed one another, and realise that blunt force trauma to the head doesn’t feel all that different to a two tallies they missed out on.
You talked about how shit the government is.
Does this even need a comment. I mean, holy shit. The same applies to Donald Trump and conspiracy theories.
You neglected your esky.
We could add more. You should. We’ll update. Unless Shelly causes some ruckus.