death sentence for weasel words wicky wah wah

Has anyone else noticed that kids around the greasy age of 19 and younger are saying and writing ‘ass’. It’s a sad day when globalisation takes our swear words away. Oh yeah, I know all about globalisation, a completed a globalisation degree. “Globalisation is like this big thing that like makes everything American and stuff and it’s like McDonaldisation, but like it goes both ways, like America isn’t that bad because other cultures are everywhere as well, like a good example would be that I eat Chinese food and Domino’s Pizza while reading an Ikea catalogue, but yeah I can like totally agree that America is trying to control everyone and stuff because like they want all the money and George Bush is really stupid and things, I saw that on like South Park and stuff.”

‘Ass’ should always be spelt ‘Arse’. Phonetically the ‘r’ gives it so much more grunt. ‘Ass’ in comparison sounds like a limp wrist whine. In no way am I patriotic, but I really feel arse is a word we need to protect. Ass sounds disgusting, it goes in the pile of American words that I could never bring myself to say: panties, fanny, ketchup. If arse dies, becomes a fossil like ‘cobber’ and ‘democratic Australia’, then we can kiss all our favourite Australianisms away. Like drinking long necks and wearing footy shorts so high and tight than when you bend over to pick up 5 cents off the sidewalk one of your man eggs hangs out the leg or hanging upside down on the monkey bars at your local park until your nose starts bleeding and you puke up a tartan rug of ‘little boys’ and cask wine. When those traditions go, and they will unless we keep the ‘r’, then I won’t have anything to do on the weekends except throw rocks at cars and smell neighbours bins to work out who’s rich and might have a pool that I could practice freestyle in.

Some Australian traditions I reckon we could get rid of: Cricket, sunburn, the saying “I’m not racist BUT…”, polony sandwiches, and ‘icei beers. Yeah.

Man it’s been hot. But I can’t complain as Bruno the god-drunk German says “It may be hot but it’s a lot hotter in hell.” I gave him the finger but he just did some kind of Wu-Tang hand signal back.

Peace.