End Of Days

It's Australia Day today in the Australian occupied segments of Australia (and also in the southern parts of Romania for some weird creepy reason, that I'm sure involves secret webcams) and Australia Day, a day where as we all know, regardless of where we live or are from, is a day where Australians celebrate the existence of Days (something the rest of the world, except for some awesome people in Romania, seemingly take for fucking granted, and if you don't think Days will one day form a union and go on strike till they get respect, then your fooling yourself). 

Yes, Days are swell, all seven of them, from Sunday to Saturday, and everything in between, and we love them, including elements of them such as:
- Their existence 
- The fact that if they didn't exist literally nothing else would (well maybe 1970 era 'disposable' coffee cups. 

Still, while we can all uniformly agree that Days are swell, Australia Day has come to mean different things to different people, vastly different things covering such a vast spectrum of varsisity that it's hard to believe that we're all the same species, let alone nationality, and yet deep in the center orifice of this vastness is the reality that at the core we all have the exact same thoughts on this wonderful day celebrating Days, thoughts including: 

- You know what I love about Days? It's that they exist. And because they exist we can exist. And frankly I don't think I'd even WANT to be alive in a world that didn't exist.  
- Man I sure am thankful for Days. 
- And thankful for a day where we come together as a society to celebrate Days, and ignore our personal needs, desires, and petty personal issues. 
- Oh wait, today is also the day when they announce which Australians will be knighted this year right? 
- I want a fucking Knighthood! 
- Everyone would have to call me sir! 
- Including my dick Math teacher Mr Simmons from year six who made me call HIM sir, and once yelled at me when Debbie was the one fucking talking, not me at ALL, except to say the bare minimum responses to her questions, fuck you Si... I mean Mr Simmons! 
- And I DESERVE to be fucking knighted! 
- At least as much as any of those other dicks. 
- I'm swell! 
- TOTALLY swell! 
- So why hasn't the Queen called yet? 
- I guess she'll get around to it.
- Wait, it's been six minutes now, and she STILL HASN'T called! 
- I'm opening a window, 'HEY, FUCK YOU QUEEN!'
- 'Like every Australian I've worshipped you like a golden mother' 
- 'Fuck you!!!' 
- And 'fuck Australia, and you assholes who worshiped a woman who's never even fucking knighted me!' 
- I'm moving! 
- That's the last straw. 
- I'm moving overseas! 
- As fast as fucking possible, and as far away as possible, from the Queen, and all her goons in parliament. 
- Oh that's right, as a fourth generation Australian over the age of 30 there is literally no where else in the world I'm allowed to live and work.
- And anyway the exchange rate SUCKS at the moment.
- I better open the window again, 'hey  everyone, I'm still proud to be an Aussie, and by still I mean I always was, this place is swell'.
- 'Plus the Queen's ace!' 
- 'You know what? I'd even support a day where we CELEBRATE being Australians, you know like how today we celebrate Days, but instead of days we celebrate being Aussie'.

Then some bloke from the Barbie next door flings a beer bottle into our heads screaming 'without Days you wouldn't even exist you ungrateful cunt'. 

And we head off for a long, concussions filled nap, with head injuries bad enough to forget this ever happened so we can repeat it all next year. 

Yep Australia, a Queen loving, beer hurling, head injury epidemic rich place, watched closely on webcam from Romania, what could BE more swell! 

So Happy Aussie Day everyone (Except you Simmons, you dick!) 

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