… where people don’t have enough sense not to grab handfuls of poisonous snakes. At least he’s wearing pants, but that’s all you can hope for at this point. If you’re expecting any sort of comprehensible speech I’m afraid you’re watching videos from the wrong continent. Understanding an Australian takes years of experience, and it should not be attempted at home. You might suffer permanent brain damage, or worse: develop an Australian accent yourself.
(Warning: Some vaguely Australian blithering)
Some legends are born, some are made from the fiery ashes of those who have fallen before them, and some are arrested for eating a succulent Chinese meal.
It’s hard being a champion among men; lesser individuals are always trying to uproot you from your high position. After a little bit of research I found out that our Australian friend here has angered a lot of lesser individuals to the point where he’s wanted by Interpol, the Hungarian National Police Force, and the Indonesian National Police for eating at fancy restaurants and not paying. But that makes no nevermind to our well-spoken friend.
Coincidentally, the Hungarian National Police Force is the name of my Wham tribute band, but that isn’t something anyone wanted to hear about in the first place.
I don’t care if it’s immoral, or illegal, or whatever; I would buy tickets to watch this. With kangaroos, every fight is Ali vs. George Foreman and his many grills. I’m pretty sure this is the least dangerous thing to happen in Australia, anyways. Everything that isn’t actively trying to kill you wants to beat the tar out of you and steal your awful knockoff El Camino. I think they’d actually be doing you a favor because you can take the money and buy a real car, and not a half-melted pick-up truck.
I’d say that no animals were harmed in the making of this film, but I’d be lying. Let’s just agree not to tell, and it’ll be our little Intertunnel secret.
(Warning: mild salty language)
During peacetime it’s hard for people in the military to know what to do with themselves. I know exactly how they feel. If I don’t bathe in the blood of my enemies at least once a month I get all antsy and weird. It takes a lot of dudes to fill a bathtub full of blood, so I run out of enemies pretty quickly, which makes it even harder for me to keep up with my enemy slaying schedule.
Having nemeses has become a luxury for me. These days I’m lucky if I can find one vaguely despicable person to battle with. I can’t even hear the lamentations of their women, because they’re usually single and not looking to be in any sort of serious relationship right now, which is an absolute bummer for me. What on Earth is the point of defeating your enemies and seeing them driven before you if you’re unable to hear the lamentations of their women? I might as well give the whole business up and join the Australian Army. At least they get to go outside and play with their friends.