Archives for posts with tag: spiders

I know that Australia is confusing to a lot of people. I mean, we speak a different language (and we like to shorten everything, especially names):

  • Straya
  • Stubbies (could mean footy shorts or beers)
  • Which brings me to the next one … footy
  • G’day (hello)
  • Bikkie (biscuit)
  • Maccas (McDonald’s)
  • Acadaca (which is weird, because normally we like to shorten things, but this time we decided to lengthen something!)
  • Devo (devastated)
  • Arvo (afternoon)
  • Din-Dins (strangely, I only ever say this to my dog …)
  • Brekkie (breakfast)
  • Servo (service station)
  • Bottle-o (liquor store)
  • Garbo (garbage man)
  • Postie (postman)
  • Smoko (smoke break)
  • Rego (registration)
  • Agro (aggressive)
  • Preggers (pregnant)
  • Cabbie (cab driver)
  • Prezzie (present)
  • Vinnies (St Vincent’s)
  • Salvos (Salvation Army)
  • Cuppa (cup of tea)

I could go on, but the point is, we clearly have our own, awesome language. (Also, despite the fact that I’m an English teacher – and actually quite good at English, I’m known to have the best words – I actually kind of forgot some of the “real” names, because I’ve become so accustomed to using slang.)

However, despite our awesome made-up language that really is totes real, so are our warnings about our deadly fauna and flora.


Like, I know Australians like to tell everyone about drop bears because it’s funny to scare foreigners (well, to only those of us who lack compassion, which has never been me *cough*), but seriously, half our animals and plants will kill you.

Image result for beware drop bears

Or at least try to.

Like Koala Bears. They’re called bears for a reason, people.

And there was that time we had a war with emus. Yes, you’re not reading that wrong.

I would also like to take the time to bow my head in shame and say that we lost that war.

Emus literally beat us.

Fucking emus.

Image result for war with emus

But don’t believe me that everything here wants to kill you?

Well, last week a spider ate a mouse.

Yes, you read the sentence right and no, that wasn’t a typo. A fucking spider ate a fucking mouse. (Also part of Australian culture – swear excessively. To be honest, I’m on the low end of the swearing spectrum. We also don’t consider ass, crap, damn or hell to be swear words, either.)

Anyway, you can Google the spider eating a mouse if you want, but I’m not including it on account of a fucking spider ate a fucking mouse.

And that shit’s just fucked.

But, if that doesn’t sound scary enough for you, I’d like to show you a video of a snake eating a crocodile.

Yes, you also read that sentence right.

A snake literally ate a fucking crocodile.

Welcome to Australia.


Survivor kicked off its 30th season last month with Worlds Apart set off the coast of Nicaragua. Once again I was glued to the TV like a contestant’s soggy underwear to their nether regions in the sweltering tropical heat. A few Mainers have competed on the show over the years, with one actually winning the grand prize. (Anyone remember BobBest season evah.)

This year we have this man to cheer on: Dan from Gorham.


image: survivorfandom

Wow. Ayuh, he certainly looks like a true Maineiac. Some highlights of his quest for the million dollars: Nobody on his tribe can stand him, he peed on his own jelly fish sting and he’s free-balling it because he lost his undies in the ocean. Yee-ouch! Looks like he’s all chafed up with no place to go. I have no idea what that means.

Watching this middle-aged postal worker slog around the beach with his sweaty furry belly hanging out made me think, Dammit, if HE can do it, so can I! As luck would have it, I ALSO have a giant gut, and yes, it’s very furry and I can bitch and sweat like nobody’s business! (And if I had balls, you’d better believe I’d go commando, too.)

But before I send in my application, the rules of Survivor have to change slightly to accommodate me. Read the rest of this entry »