Oi, Oi, Oi Bloody hell! I cried! Who the bugger am I? Why I'm an ozzie, yes I am, An ozzie thru and thru. Why I'm so ozzie? I've ne’r been outsida DUNNYDOO. Why I'm so ozzie I like the way that rhymes with POO. An ozzie mam, (I can call ya mam?) Yes I am, a flamin' sports mad beauty bottler digger I am, with a swag of gold medals and cricket bats for hands Why I'm so ozzie I got no connection with the land and I can't see how those ABOS can? What a whingeing lot they are with money coming out there ears and mansions by the sea squatting there where others should be like Bond and Rich and Skase, those dispossessed, that noble corporate race! And while we're whingeing – what about those whingeing poms, the whingeing frogs, and those bloody whingeing yanks HAVE THEY MENTIONED US OF LATE! Cauz, oooooooooo! Don't I love it when they do, just one word about us ozzies to be savoured like sweet, sweet lollies or hung onto like a big, hard poo. Which reminds me of Dunnydoo and an emu kicking down a loo and the export of our Kultcha captured in the triumph of Koala Blue. I am an ozzie, yes I am a sports mad, bushranging larry-kan, with shares in Telstra and a love for clearing trees. Clancy of the overpass, THAT'S ME I am an ozzie, yes mam I am, and if ya can't recall just remember, (for your pleasure) I've got a stump for a dick and FOOTYs for balls.
heheheh my friend lived in Dunnydoo, he only moved outa there last year. Yeah your piece is original ill give you that.
