Prime Minister of Australia, Kevin Rudd decides it is time to do some public relations at a local Canberra nursing home.
The Prime Minister begins his "tour" down the main hallway and passes by a little old man who doesn’t seem to notice him.
Sensing this, Prime Minister Rudd backtracks to the resident and asks, "Do you know who I am?"
The little old man looks up from his walker and says, "No, but if you go to the front desk, they will tell you your name."
A big earthquake with the strength of 8.1 on the Richter Scale has hit Pakistan .
Two million Pakistanis have died and over a million are injured.
The country is totally ruined, and the government doesn’t know where to start, with providing help to rebuild.
The rest of the world is in shock.
The USA is sending troops to help.
Saudi Arabia is sending oil.
Latin American countries are sending supplies.
New Zealand is sending sheep, cattle and food crops.
The Asians are sending labor to assist in rebuilding infrastructure.
Australia is sending medical teams and supplies.
Canada, not to be outdone, is sending two million Pakistanis as replacements.
God Bless Canadian generosity….
Patrick walks into a bar in Dublin, orders three pints of Guinness and sits in the corner of the room, drinking a sip out of each pint in turn. When he had finished all three, he went back to the bar and ordered three more.
The barman says, "You know a pint goes flat soon after I pull it … your pint would taste better if you bought one at a time."
Patrick replies, "Well now, I have two brodders, one is in America and de odder in Australia and here I am in Dublin . When we all left home, we promised dat we’d drink dis way to remember de days we all drank togedder."
The barman admits that this is a nice custom and says no more.
Patrick becomes a regular customer and always drinks the same way … ordering three pints and drinking a sip out of each in turn, until they are finished. One day, he comes in and orders just two pints. All the other regulars in the bar notice and fall silent.
When he goes back to the bar for the second round, the barman says, "I don’t want to intrude on your grief but I wanted to offer my condolences on your great loss."
Patrick looks confused for a moment, then the penny drops and he starts to laugh, "Oh no," he says, "Bejesus, everyone is fine! Tis me …. I’ve given up drinking for Lent.
Done this before, but it’s funny. OK?
The English are feeling the pinch in relation to recent terrorist threats, and have therefore raised their security level from "Miffed" to "Peeved". Soon though, security levels may be raised yet again to "Irritated" or even "A Bit Cross". The English have not been "A Bit Cross" since the blitz in 1940 when tea supplies nearly ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from "Tiresome" to "A Bloody Nuisance". The last time the British issued a "Bloody Nuisance" warning level was in 1588, when threatened by the Spanish Armada.
The Scots have raised their threat level from "Pissed Off" to "Let’s Get The Bastards". They don’t have any other levels. This is the reason they have been used on the front line of the British army for the last 300 years.
The French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from "Run" to "Hide". The only two higher levels in France are "Collaborate" and "Surrender". The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France ‘s white flag factory, effectively paralyzing the country’s military capability.
Italy has increased the alert level from "Shout Loudly and Excitedly" to "Elaborate Military Posturing". Two more levels remain: "Ineffective Combat Operations" and "Change Sides".
The Germans have increased their alert state from "Disdainful Arrogance" to "Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs". They also have two higher levels: "Invade A Neighbour" and "Lose".
Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual. The only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels .
The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy.
Americans meanwhile, and as usual, are carrying out pre-emptive strikes on all of their allies "just in case".
Canada, feeling sleepy and insulated, doesn’t have any alert levels.
New Zealand has raised its security level from "baaa" to "BAAAA". Due to continuing defence cutbacks, New Zealand has only one more level of escalation, which is "We Hope Australia Will Come And Rescue Us".
Australia , meanwhile, has raised its security level from "No Worries" to "She’ll Be Alright, Mate". Three more escalation levels remain: "Crikey!", "I Think We’ll Need To Cancel the Barbie This Weekend" and "The Barbie Is Cancelled". So far no situation has ever warranted use of the final escalation level.
The English are feeling the pinch in relation to recent terrorist threats and have raised their security level from "Miffed" to "Peeved." Soon, though, security levels may be raised yet again to "Irritated" or even "A Bit Cross." The English have not been "A Bit Cross" since the blitz in 1940 when tea supplies all but ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from "Tiresome" to a "Bloody Nuisance." The last time the British issued a "Bloody Nuisance" warning level was in 1588 when threatened by the Spanish Armada.
The Scots raised their threat level from "Pissed Off" to "Let’s get the Bastards." They don’t have any other levels. This is the reason they have been used on the front line of the British army for the last 300 years.
The French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from "Run" to "Hide". The only two higher levels in France are "Collaborate" and "Surrender." The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France’s white flag factory, effectively paralyzing the country’s military capability.
It’s not only the French who are on a heightened level of alert: Italy has increased the alert level from "Shout Loudly and Excitedly" to "Elaborate Military Posturing." Two more levels remain: "Ineffective Combat Operations" and "Change Sides."
The Germans also increased their alert state from "Disdainful Arrogance" to "Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs." They also have two higher levels: "Invade a Neighbour" and "Lose".
Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual, and the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels.
The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy.
Americans meanwhile and as usual are carrying out pre-emptive strikes on all of their allies ‘just in case’.
Canada doesn’t have any alert levels.
And in the southern hemisphere …
New Zealand has also raised its security levels – from "baaa" to "BAAAA". Due to continuing defense cutbacks (the airforce being a squadron of spotty teenagers flying paper aeroplanes and the navy some toy boats in the Prime Minister’s bath), New Zealand only has one more level of escalation, which is "I hope Australia will come and rescue us".
Australia, meanwhile, has raised its security level from "No worries" to "She’ll be right, mate". Three more escalation levels remain:
"Crikey!’, "I think we’ll need to cancel the barbie this weekend" and "The barbie is cancelled".
So far no situation has ever warranted use of the final escalation level.
Bruce and Trevor are 2 Kiwi beggars.
They beg in different areas of Bondi, Sydney.
Bruce begs just as long as Trevor but only collects $2 to $3 every day.
Trevor brings home a suitcase full of $10 notes, drives a Mercedes,
Lives in a mortgage-free house and has a lot of money to spend.
Bruce says to Trevor ‘I work just as long and hard as you do but how do you bring home a suitcase full of $10 notes every day?’
Trevor says, ‘Look at your sign, what does it say’?
Bruce’s sign reads, ‘I have no work, a wife and 6 kids to support’.
Trevor says ‘No wonder you only get $2 – $3.
Bruce says… ‘So what does your sign say’?
Trevor shows Bruce his sign ….
It reads, ‘I only need another $10 to move back to New Zealand.’
A man boarded an airplane in Sydney, Australia with a box of fresh crabs. A female crew member took it from him and promised to secrete it in the crew’s own refrigerator, which she did for the duration of the long trip.
Shortly before landing, she couldn’t remember who gave her the package, so she announced to the entire cabin, "Would the gentleman who gave me the crabs in Sydney please raise your hand?"
Not one hand went up so she took them home and ate them herself.
WE, the people of a free nation of blokes, sheilas and the occasional wanker. 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 Mossimo 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. Its 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 Snowtown, 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. 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 centre piece 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 sceptics, it is worth noting that God probably made Queensland as it’s beautiful one day and perfect the next. 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 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 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 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, netball, rugby, AFL, roo-shooting, two-up and horse racing. We also have the biggest rock, the tastiest pies, the blackest aborigines and the worst-dressed Olympians in the known universe.
We shoot, we root, we vote. We are girt by sea and pissed by lunchtime. Even though we might seem a racist, closed-minded, sports-obsessed little people, at least we feel better for it.
You are, I am, we are, Australian.