Getting ready to go home again after a few years away, I sometimes think about my family and how weird it sounds when I talk to them on the phone. My accent’s all bastardized from the 6 or so years I’ve lived in Scotland, England, and the US. When I talk to my family, they say I sound like “a bloody Yank”. When I listen to them, they sound like the Crocodile Hunter (cringe).
I guess I’ll have to get used to hearing it though and perhaps I should re-learn some of the terms that make ‘Strine the colourful language that it is… just in case someone comes on a bit strong, so I don’t go apeshit, tellin’ ’em they’re about as useful as tits on a bull, ya bloody wanker.
Then, on the weega, I can barrack for my favourite aerial ping-pong team with a coupla stubbies of piss, bung a few snags on the barbie and I’ll be a happy little vegemite.
DOWNLOAD OUR TRAVEL GUIDES
Maybe crack open a bottle of cheap plonk with dinner before getting into some hard yakka during the week.
No idea what I’m talking about? Visit the Australian National Dictionary Centre.