Aussies Gone Wild
By Ryan Oakley. Filed in Uncategorized |Tags: Uncategorized
I can see why the Aussies would have a race riot. If there was such a thing as a master race it would certainly be comprised of the shirtless descendants of British convicts. Boasting such a proud lineage, it’s quite easy to see why they would find it difficult to tolerate the inferior peoples of the world.
Notice the proud and dignified expression on this gentleman’s face. Much refreshed after an afternoon of kangaroo hunting, this charming fellow has headed to the local Anti-Lebanese Beach Party. He is positively bursting with life and good cheer; gleefully looking forward to an evening of pillage, rapine and some good-natured wog bashing.
But what’s this?
Is that a policeman?
Now, it is well known that these noble people resent men in uniforms. After all, it was men like that who sent their bread stealing ancestors away from sunny, beautiful England and into that horrible, drab and dull, land down under. They’ve never been able to forgive and who can blame them? Certainly not me.
So Bruce here, being highly regarded by his friends as a champion among men, has bravely sallied forth, beer bottle gently clutched in one hand, to get to the bottom of this copper’s presence. If he doesn’t do it, who will?
“Just what brings you to the beach my good Sir?” Bruce inquires. “Can’t you see that we’re trying to conduct a race riot here?”
“Is that so? I thought you were filming a Girls Gone Wild Video. You know, on account of all the topless Shelias.”
“Oh no, my good man. I assure you that there will be no such smut on this beach tonight.”
“Good to hear it. Carry on then.”
Much edified by this beneficial exchange, Bruce returns to the waiting arms of his neo-nazi cohorts.
It brings a tear to my eye; the pride all us white folks can feel in our race today. We truly are the best of the best, the veritible pinnacle of human rationality and kindness. Throw another koala on the barby for me Bruce. You’re a real credit to your people.
Although Ryan Oakley began his career as a simple rake (drunk) he has since become Toronto’s most renowned flaneur (no car) and notorious dandy (overdresses). A misanthropic composer of psycho-geographical fictions (bad science fiction), he is also a server of food, a tender of bar and a washer of dishes. While performing all these functions with efficiency and elegance (disdain and malice), he somehow finds the time to publicly criticize friends, strangers and cultural crap. He's a bit of a dick.
