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  Besides beer, the Bogan diet is simple, in line with their general approach to life. Centred on communal dining and the barbecue, Bogan cuisine is divided into just two major food groups: the burnt, and the all-you-can-eat buffet. Which food group is eaten at any one time depends on whether the Bogan is eating out or in. At home he will devour large amounts of charcoal-encrusted meat, but when out he will treat himself to a wider variety of flavours, including roast beef, lasagne, and, for the more adventurous Bogan, chicken korma.

  Although the Bogan is fiercely protective of his territory, he can also be a friendly and loyal companion. Still, one should always be aware that Bogans cannot really be tamed; many people have fallen into the trap of thinking of the Bogan as a pet, only to regret their false sense of security when they suffer a glass to the forehead or a severe fireworks injury.

  Bogans take justifiable pride in the role they have played in shaping the history of the nation. Perhaps the first Bogan to make his mark on the national stage was Henry Lawson, whose story ‘The Loaded Dog’ combined for the first time two of the Bogan’s greatest loves: dogs of indeterminate parentage, and explosives. After Lawson came Australia’s first Bogan Prime Minister, Alfred Deakin, who was very keen on stopping the Asians taking our jobs, and was actually prime minister on three separate occasions, between which he was on the Newstart Allowance.

  Bogans have probably made the greatest impact on Australian life in the field of sport, which has seen Bogan culture take a leading role. The prototypical Bogan sportsman was cricketer Ernie Jones, who combined aggression and a frighteningly large moustache with a quintessentially Boganish predilection for nude wrestling. Jones’s spirit was carried on in the cricketing-Bogan-par-excellence, Merv Hughes, who emerged during the Bogan Golden Age of the 1980s to terrorise opponents by brandishing his enormous stomach at them, cowing them to the point where they were helpless against his brutal bouncers and bristling upper lip. Hughes’s mantle was later taken up by Shane Warne, who at times during his career flirted with Metrosexuality, particularly in regard to his hair, but in the end came to be known as a Bogan icon, not least for his taste in underpants. Outside of the cricketing world, one of the greatest of all sports Bogans was Wayne Carey, whose athletic ability, when fused with his love of hitting people and groping passing women, made him something of a Bogan role model. However, his high level of physical fitness made him perhaps less than an absolutely ideal Bogan – in many ways he was more an Athlete than a Bogan, at least during his playing career – and he may have been surpassed by his contemporary Billy Brownless, who was such a Bogan that immediately upon announcing his retirement, he tripled in size. Another great sporting Bogan was Matthew Johns, forever assured a place in the Bogan pantheon thanks to his ability to parlay his footballing talent into a career making fun of homosexuals – living the Bogan dream, as it were. And then of course there is Phar Lap, who used to spend his downtime between races drinking on his front lawn.

  Outside the realm of sport, other famous Bogans include Senator Bill Heffernan, actor Michael Caton, television presenter Scott Cam, celebrity criminal Mark ‘Chopper’ Read, and prominent puppet Agro.

  Boganism is a broad church: although many people consider Bogans to be a homogenous and conformist lot, within the wider Bogan community are many groups and cultures who have carved out their own identity within the greater Bogan monolith. Some of these hew closely to the classical Bogan ethos, while others, having diverged some time ago from the main trunk of the Bogan tree, have developed habits and markings that clearly indicate a distinct subspecies. Varieties of Bogan include:

  The Bootsniffer. A Bogan species notable for its pack behaviour and unusual religious habits, the Bootsniffer tends to congregate in large groups, known technically as ‘a barracking of Bootsniffers’, for the purpose of drinking heavily and roaring incoherently. Scientists have studied Bootsniffers extensively to try to determine exactly what it is that they are roaring about, with only limited success. Some hypothesise that it is a kind of mating call, although counting against this is the fact the roars are usually directed towards other men, who are generally located on a large field playing football. Others have speculated that the Bootsniffer’s distinctive call may be an attempt to influence the game in some way, although it has also been noted that the words roared only occasionally bear any identifiable connection to events on the field, and there is no recorded instance of a Bootsniffer having any influence on a game of any kind. This has led many to prefer the mating call theory, and others to simply decide Bootsniffers are eternal optimists. Bootsniffers themselves are divided into different breeds, existing in different regions. The Northern Bootsniffer tends to be gruffer and heavier-set than his southern cousin, and his social groups a little smaller, which the Southern Bootsniffer will generally claim is a mark of inferiority. Although there are many other differences between the varieties – such as the Southern Bootsniffer’s inexplicable love of tribal chants sung by barbershop quartets, or the Northern Bootsniffer’s reluctance to leave his house in unpleasant weather conditions, or if his TV is working – they are still recognisably of the same type, as evidenced by the fact that both breeds share a love of scarves and yelling about how soft everything is these days. No matter what region one is in, one is likely to hear the phrase ‘It’s not bloody NETBALL’ in the company of Bootsniffers.

  Bootsniffers can be distinguished by their tribal markings, loud call and extreme aggression, and, if spotted during football season, should not be approached, as the most seemingly innocuous turn of events can set off a ferocious attack. One should especially never agree to attend a game with a Bootsniffer, or even to watch one on television, as on 50% of such occasions there will be an act of violence.

  The Exhauster is a breed of Bogan who has a lot in common with the Bootsniffer – in fact, the two subspecies’ herds often co-mingle with each other, and many of the Exhauster’s habits are also identifiable in the Bootsniffer. However, although these Bogans can also be found drinking and roaring at sporting events, and their emotional state is likewise fragile and entirely dependent on external events, there is a crucial difference between the two, in that the Exhauster’s passions are directed more towards machinery than athletic endeavour.

  Although they, too, will gather on occasion to collectively urge cars to crash, the Exhauster is on the whole a less pack-oriented variety of Bogan, spending much of his time alone or in smaller groups, engaging in long and intense discussions on the merits of different vehicles and occasionally sliding underneath them. The purpose of these actions is unclear, although it seems to have something to do with making the vehicles go faster, or, in many cases, at all. Indeed, one of the Exhauster’s more curious habits lies in his nesting behaviour: he will bring back to his home numerous cars and pieces of cars and scatter them around the house and yard, where they will sit, forming a sort of large avant-garde sculpture, until the day when, by pure chance, the Exhauster finds a way to make them operational, or else he moves away and the new occupants are forced to pay someone to remove them.

  One of the truly unique features of the Exhauster as compared to other Bogans is a cultural quirk which leads them to fervently believe that one major multinational automotive corporation is inherently superior to another. Opinion is divided regarding how this got started, although recently discovered documents dating from the seventeenth century have been suggested by some to be evidence of early Exhauster culture, in which an anonymous author declares the East India Company to be ‘poofters’. Certainly, the eternal struggle between the cults of Ford and Holden provide a focal point around which the social and family lives of Exhausters revolve, without which their community might well fragment and collapse, or start following Ferraris or something.

  The Exhauster is also notable for his unusual mating dance, which involves parading himself in front of female Bogans to demonstrate how ineffective his muffler is. Some Boganologists have speculated that Exhausters, unique among Bogans, ac
tually prefer to mate with their cars, and much time and expense has been devoted to persuading a Bogan and a car to mate in captivity. One research group in Adelaide recently claimed success, but has yet to publicly release evidence of the alleged offspring, what they are calling a ‘Bocar’, which has been described in informal reports as a large, slow-moving, and infertile mammal, with the head and mullet of a Bogan, but the torso of a Ford Fiesta.

  A subspecies of the Exhauster is the Bi-Tyre Exhauster, or Wheelie. These Exhausters travel on two-wheeled rather than four-wheeled vehicles, and dwell in large social groupings. Notable for their long, luxuriant coats and hard outer shells, the Wheelie is fiercely protective of his territory and will fight ferociously if anyone tries to encroach upon it, or steal his pill press. Exhausters are sometimes pilloried for their aggressive nature and pornographic magazines, but are widely acknowledged to have the coolest soundtrack of all Bogans.

  Closely related to both the Bootsniffer and the Exhauster, to the point where they can be indistinguishable to the untrained eye, is the Guzzler. The difficulty in distinguishing the Guzzler from other subspecies lies not only in his similar appearance – the Guzzler frequently assumes such trappings as the Bootsniffer’s scarf and jersey, or the Exhauster’s T-shirt and windcheater – but can also be attributed to the Guzzler’s habit of infiltrating other groups of Bogans, cuckoo-style, under the pretence of being one of them. Further exacerbating this problem, all Bogans will at some time adopt elements of Guzzler behaviour. The Guzzler sets himself apart from the average hard-drinking Bogan; however, due to his single-minded obsession with devoting his life to all that alcohol has to offer. There is nothing social or casual about the Guzzler’s drinking: he drinks seriously, systematically, and with an admirable level of commitment and discipline. Forever looking for new ways to deliver the alcohol into his system, from beer bongs, to yard glasses, to – if necessary – intravenous drips, the Guzzler finds his bliss early in life, and continues the infatuation until death, which is naturally not always that far away.

  Although it can, as mentioned, be difficult to pick out a Guzzler from other Bogan varieties, the rule of thumb is: when you see a Bogan drinking, go away for six hours, then come back – if he’s still drinking, he’s probably a Guzzler. If he’s unconscious and/or deceased, it’s admittedly kind of a grey area – Guzzlers do have a higher tolerance for alcohol than other Bogans, but they also drink harder and faster than others, and passing out is, as a rule, their express purpose.

  Ironically, few Guzzlers have any idea what any alcoholic beverage actually tastes like, but this will not prevent them engaging in long, almost scholarly discussions with other Guzzlers over the competing merits of different brands of beer that are absolutely identical, not only to non-Guzzlers, but to advanced scientific equipment.

  Guzzlers enjoy all the usual Bogan pursuits – sport, cars, breasts – but typically only use them as an excuse to get some more beer in.

  Although the aforesaid Bogans are quite similar in appearance and behaviour, the Wave-Snipe is a very different kettle of fish. Having at some point diverged from the main Bogan community, migrating in an attempt to return to humanity’s aquatic origins, this exotic Bogan inhabits coastal areas, and has evolved an appearance distinctive from his Bogan relations. Where suburban Bogans tend to be coloured in dark tones, with black T-shirts and jeans and dark, tangled shags of hair, the Wave-Snipe adorns himself in brighter, more colourful array, opting for tropical patterns and beach motifs, the better to camouflage himself among the decorative walls of the local surf club. In addition, the Wave-Snipe will generally have a mop of fine, sandy-coloured hair, and will spend as much time as possible shirtless, in stark contrast to the familiar Westie Bogan, who prefers to keep chest and stomach covered, and with good reason.

  Therein lies the biggest difference between the Wave-Snipe and his land-bound brethren: the former’s inexplicably high level of physical fitness. The Wave-Snipe could even be mistaken for a Bloke’s Bloke, were it not for his firm commitment to the principles of sloth and intolerance. Indeed, in their xenophobia and alcoholism, the Wave-Snipe puts many other Bogans to shame, the only real difference being that they practise these cultural pursuits in a picturesque beach setting, rather than behind a 7-Eleven. This can be seen to manifest itself in a variety of other ways as well: where an Exhauster, for instance, might spend hours considering the correct choice of oil filter, the Wave-Snipe might do the same with wax. Where the Bootsniffer might obsessively read the sports pages, the Wave-Snipe might obsessively read surfing magazines, which are like real magazines only with photos of people making splashes, instead of actual stories. Where a Guzzler might drink till he collapses on the pub floor, a Wave-Snipe will drink until he falls over in the surf and drowns. And so forth.

  Then there is the matter of their appearance: the Wave-Snipe holds a very large advantage over other Bogans, in that he is sexually attractive to non-Bogan members of the opposite sex, mainly because he has the abdominal muscles and tan to appear like a non-Bogan himself. Often the partners of Wave-Snipes don’t even realise they’ve thrown in their lot with a Bogan, until the day their new man wraps himself in an Australian flag and heads to the streets with a slab of VB balanced on his head. The revelation is frequently traumatic.

  However, despite the potential lurking within every Wave-Snipe to get drunk and roam about punching people in the head until they promise not to come back to the beach, this is an essentially peace-loving Bogan who would rather be riding a wave than starting a fight, and who likes nothing more than watching the sun go down over the ocean while downing his fifteenth beer and contemplating the meaning of life, which has something to do with beer and surfboards.

  A very different, but some might say even more exotic variety of Bogan is the Mussel, a subspecies that experts believe split in the relatively recent past from the Exhauster branch of the family, given its similar obsession with all things automotive. The typical Mussel can spend just as much time as an Exhauster on his car, and takes pride in having the most pimped-out, highly polished, subwoofer-laden machine possible. But in that very car will lie a clue to the difference between a Mussel and other Bogans, because while the classic Bogan will cruise the streets, 80s pub-rock blaring through his windows, the Mussel is more likely to be pumping out heavy hip-hop beats in an effort to stake out his territory. The Mussel doesn’t, to be frank, care much for music, but will always strive for enough bass to make the car next to him shudder.

  The Mussel is not always recognised as a true Bogan, and many Mussels will themselves deny they are Bogans, considering themselves to be far too sophisticated for such a label. However, although a Mussel is more likely to sport a slick, heavily gelled coiffure than a luxuriant mullet, and a tight, pec-displaying T-shirt rather than a baggy Bon Jovi souvenir, his Bogan antecedents are evident in his behaviour. For just like any self-respecting Bogan, the Mussel can be seen on any given weekend venturing into the city, where he will drink, dance, and fight with bouncers. The main difference is that he is a better dancer: your average Bogan will hit the dance floor with a sort of awkward, apologetic half-spasm, whereas the Mussel will prance with extreme confidence in his moves and the carefully arranged bulge in his jeans. Similarly, the Mussel trumps his cousins in his confidence with the opposite sex, boldly approaching the female of the species in a manner quite alien to, for example, the Bootsniffer’s baffled stammer, and not letting the constant rejection get him down in the manner of the common Guzzler. A true ladies’ man, the Mussel will always operate via the law of averages: the more women he rubs up against, the greater the chance one of them won’t throw a wine cooler in his face.

  Despite these superficial differences between the social habits of the Mussel and other Bogans, however, their night will invariably end the same way: with blood, vomit and unconsciousness in the grand Bogan tradition.

  Like all Bogans, the Mussel feeds mostly on a sense that someone is out to get him. For the Mussel, thi
s includes other Bogans, and so there is frequently tension between the Mussel and traditional Bogan communities, neither of which recognises the essential brotherhood that exists between them. Indeed, each often sees the other as a wanker, a disappointing state of affairs that has up to now prevented Bogans from uniting and taking over society.

  Although the Bogan is commonly seen as a creature of the lower socio-economic strata, the Cubbie, or Nouveau Bougaine, is a perfect example of this hardy Bloke’s innate upward mobility. A Bogan who has parlayed his natural ingenuity and ambition into financial success, the Cubbie in many ways grants us the greatest insight into the Bogan psyche, as his cashed-up status allows him to make real all his deepest desires, and thereby show the world what Bogan dreams are made of.

  It turns out that what Bogans dream of mostly is massive houses and four-wheel drives. The houses, known as ‘McMansions’ due to their size and strong smell of processed cheese, are generally designed in what architects call the ‘Neo-Ikea’ style and furnished with various modern appliances and Bogan artefacts, such as Xboxes, Ab-Masters, and paintings of racing cars that light up. They will also be adorned with bright and cheerful Christmas decorations, including electric reindeer and inflatable Santas, for up to eight months of the year.

  The style of McMansion will of course vary depending on the origins of the Cubbie in question. A Cubbie who used to be a Mussel, for example, is likely to include Mediterranean touches and unlikely to have any lawns, while a former Guzzler will have a bar in the garage and several points of damaged brickwork where the car’s been driven into the house.