February 2 Phil

Today my favourite American character has his special day , Punxsutawney Phil . This little groundhog who is 132 years old and lives on a special life elixir has made his prediction: 6 more weeks of winter . On exiting his burrow the sun has unfortunately cast a shadow at Phil’s feet and he saw it , hence it’s gonna be a long winter in Gobblers Knob , Pennsylvania. This is the sort of stuff the Yanks are expert in , make believe . Or as like to call it : bullshit . It’s ok , I’ve softened my view , I find it funny . Even me who is one the staunchest of cynics can get a laugh at this type of stuff . Just like Big Foot , Sasquatches, Voodoo , curses and the extraordinary number of UFOs that happen to only be sighted here . I think it comes down to the fact there’s not enough Aussies here to Call that stuff out . We’re not gonna let you get away with making shit up and telling us it’s real . We’l cut you down like we do tall poppys ( another story) . Like the guy I met on the pier telling me there were 20 feet waves breaking here last year . I’m knodding my head , smiling with exaggeration, but I’ve softened . I m thinking bullshit mate . Do you know who your talking to ? I couldn’t crush him . On the other hand I wouldn’t let that go if he was an Aussie. I’d be calling bullshit , not aggressively but disbelieving . This is a place where people won’t offend , they’l take your word and let you run at the mouth and then go home and say they don’t think you were telling the truth . Like yesterday my instructor tried to claim he didn’t work out . Before he could say no I’d already blurted “Bullshit!” It jumped out of my mouth before I could grab it and stuff it back in .The other people looked at me in wide eyed surprise. The instructor then smiled and laughed . He understood as he knows a few Aussies . It’s the beauty of this place,you won’t be chopped at the knees for talking shit . That’s what I love about Phil ….He’s a hundred and fucking thirty two year old ground hog who controls the weather …. Don’t you love that .

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