The Book of Bloke Read Online Free

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