The first thing we saw on disembarking at Tullamarine Airport was a massive sign alerting us that ‘Border Security’ were filming there that day. This was doubly unlucky. In the first case, we are both previous employees of Channel 7 and didn’t particularly care for the idea of our former colleagues editing footage of us looking so dishevelled, barking at the kids, and entering the country with copious packets of pilfered airline peanuts. And secondly, to have our arrival heralded on such a program set the tone for the rest of the trip, and that tone was BOGAN.
Like most of my fellow countrymen, I have a kind of condescending affection for bogans. I am known to do hilarious fake coughing in the car when we drive past one. It goes like this – *cough*bogan! – and it’s well funny. When we lived in the west (Yarraville), I got to do it all the time. It was the best (Pretty much. Maybe just to me.)
But the reason I hate on bogans so freely is that I in fact am one myself. Possible the biggest one I know. Per:
And finally, this is my husband’s ankle. He had it done about three years ago. It covers another girl’s name. She was a teenage girlfriend he had such strong feelings for, he romantically inscribed her name into his flesh using pen ink and a knife like a tough c*#^. This is still about my credentials, though, not his. My crowning bogan moment? When he showed me it now said “Jade”, my first thought was “My name is bigger than hers was, AND in gothic font, AND done by A TATTOOING PROFESSIONAL!”
So keep your eyes on ‘Border Security’ in the coming months – I’m the one waving maniacally at the camera and yelling “MELBOURNE BABY YEAH!”
Our next stop was the car hire joint, where we picked up our pre-booked “family sedan with one forward-facing infant seat and one booster seat”. I was expecting a dignified, staid mid-size vehicle, perhaps a Toyota Aurion in muted grey. What we got was pretty much this…
..including the hott girl, but was I even bothered, because remember I was wearing my clamshell hairclip as seen above. So, whatever, hott girl.
We travelled via the Hume Highway, past Broadmeadows, to Fawkner and my nan’s, where we were staying. The next morning, we journeyed to Sunshine where my husband was to renew his lapsed driver’s licence at VicRoads. Based on previous dealings with this illustrious organisation we assumed he would be approximately 7 hours in the fulfillment of this task, so I took the kids on to our next appointment, at the Maternal and Child Health Centre. Astonishingly, Joel’s new licence was issued before we had even exited the carpark, but I was oblivious to his desperate hailing, his cries no doubt drowned out by the sounds of FOX FM (which was preset 12 times on the car radio *cough*PREVIOUS HIRER BOGANS!). Thereafter he spent the next two hours wandering dolefully around Sunshine Plaza. It wasn’t a total bust – he did purchase Zadie these sweet shades. *cough*BOGUETTE.
Also Joel went to Adelaide for an overnighter to see some old friends. Except we forgot to take any backpacks to Australia, so he travelled with his clean jox and t-shirt in a plastic bag. And the next morning, wildly hungover, en route to the airport, he and his mates were to be found in a park in that fine city, eating Hungry Jack’s and drinking cans of bourbon. With all his worldly goods in a plastic bag at his feet. *cough*BOGAN HUSBAND FOR LIFE!
Also we ate pies nearly every day.
Goes to show, you can take the bogan out of Australia but you can’t take Australia out of the bogan. No wait a minute. You can lead a horse to a can of Woodstock but you can’t make it drink. Hang on…