It is just plain wrong to categorise the bogan as a straightforward, simple creature. There is nothing simple about naming a child “Mhadeziyn”, attempting to perch atop a revolving system of four different interest-free finance facilities, and clutching seventeen different mutually exclusive conspiracy theories about foreigners, allergies, and corporate fat cats.
The bogan understands the universe. From the big bang that started everything approximately 13.75 billion years ago, to The Big Bang Theory that started on Channel 9 on March 12, 2008, the bogan soars over space and time, like a golden, winged Jet Ski with the ability to transcend all of existence.
The picture of the bogan that we here have painted for all y’all over the past three years could be described in various ways. The bogan is a multi-faceted beast, hard to easily pigeonhole, which is why such a task requires an exhaustive categorisation of over 250 different things that it likes.
‘I had no idea giving pleasure could be such a turn-on, watching him writhe subtly with carnal longing. My inner goddess is doing the merengue with some salsa moves.’
Bylynda, curled up on the chaise lounge that she and Ben had just picked up from Gainsville for $5,000 interest free for 18 months*, quivered gently as E.L. James’ lucid, evocative prose coursed through her inner goddess.
The bogan’s life path is, like the rest of us, indeterminate. As a young boaglet, the child-spawn is faced with a plethora of careers, romances, possible criminal records and fast-food/energy drink-induced cardiac arrests.
The bogan has spent the last decade or so browsing for pornography via Microsoft operating systems, and the best part of five years lowering the general utility of social media via the very same platform. Its enthusiasm for Bill Gates’ recent endeavours to end Polio and AIDS has been far more muted, meaning that this is not the Gates that bogans love most.
The bogan briefly enjoyed having a ranga in charge of Australia, but even bogans eventually became tired of jokes about red hair. Caught in a flurry of boats laden with carbon, live cattle, and something to do with Greek debt, the bogan needs a new leader.
An apology is probably in order for the absence of posting. In the wake of writing books and holding down day jobs, many of us have decided to decamp for foreign climes for some time. And some of us had no time to post because Skyrim. Now that some are back, expect a bit more frequency with the posting.
In the meantime, here is a list of things that happened that we could have written about, should we have had the motivation. Please feel free to add suggestions.
There was once a time when claiming that bogans enjoyed the nasal whine, fierce ignorance and misguided nationalism of Pauline Hanson would be misguided in itself, and begging for a backlash.
The bogan, as we have well learned by now, has an astonishingly broad vocabulary with which to insult other bogans. All of these words tend to coalesce around a euphemism for homosexual, of course, but the myriad ways that the bogan can suggest homosexuality (the fact that homosexuality is an insult is implicit) boggle the mind.