All posts tagged Australia

Aussie Slang

Published November 18, 2019 by helentastic67

Aussie Slang

It occurs to me I’ve not yet given any of the Aussie Slang a voice, or exposure. I’m sure other countries have words or phrases they use, that only locals use.

The evening cool news program I watch is sold as “News delivered differently” and it’s for the ‘young’ and by the young, I mean not old and by young, I mean me.

They will have a panel of different people who have different strengths and backgrounds. There is always a comedian to bring a bit of light and shade.

Then, there will be guests who often share terms that they have not encountered anywhere but here.

One such pearler… Shit-tone

Yes, you heard.

It means more than can be quantified.

You are welcome.

Preston Markets

Published August 26, 2019 by helentastic67

Preston Markets

This is about my fifth blog post I’ve written in a sitting, over ninety minutes, so it might give you an idea of how the old filing cabinet that is my brain works and I haven’t had a day to sit and write for maybe a month, so I’m way behind.

But I just wanted to circle back briefly to my adventures to the Preston Markets on the Saturday mornings with the then boyfriend.

While I was working in the area, I would prefer to go after work on a Thursday or Friday night to get “just a few things” and carry them home on the train. Early evenings were really quiet and it was a nice way to finish the day after work.

However, as you might recall, going on a Saturday, I had a strict time schedule that I wanted/needed to go because and this is the main reason. I think the boyfriend did not like going and that is because he hated the ‘wogs’.

What? Shock horror! That sounds racist. However, he was not from Australia, he was from the States and he didn’t understand “wogs”.

Preston and other areas around Melbourne have a long history of wogs (Italian/Greeks etc) and while the ex was tall, he didn’t cope with the masses of Nona’s pushing their way in and around him and their shopping carts into him.

He would often let out a noise of displeasure in a fruit and veg stall and I would look over at him. A Nona had pushed her trolley into him as if he wasn’t there. He was just in their way and they didn’t much care.

He obviously just needed to give them the European stare. Yes!

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