Things you didn't know about Brisbane

Things you didn't know about Brisbane; or Things I assume you didn't know about Brisbane because I didn't know them before I lived here

Part 1:
1) Queenslander!!: The Queenslander!! is a unique being, exclusively found in the north east quarter of Australia. They are presumably spread throughout the state, but I have only had the chance to study them in the greater Brisbane region. They are characterised by their love of rugby league, their natural distrust of their southern neighbours, and a tendancy to yell "Queenslander!!" in a tone similar to that of the Matt Damon puppet on Team America. Born out of a perpetual sense of being overlooked and 'doing it tough', the Queenslander!! is apparently unaware that rather than being thought of as the never-say-die underdog by the more developed states, they are simply not thought of at all.
N.B. 'A Queenslander' is also a quite attractive and distinctive style of architecture found in this fine state. It is irrelevant to this discussion.

2) Brisbane is a zoo: From our balcony on any one morning you will likely spy possums, bats (also known by the much less sinister pseudonym 'flying fox') and big-ass lizards. Recently we had an entire family of owls nesting 3m from our back door, which is pretty cool. Although not as cool as if we'd had a couple of families so we could've had an entire parliament*.
Cane toads are prevalent, but more likely to be seen in pancake form on the road than actually jumping about the place. And people are advised against swimming in the Brisbane River because of the large population of bull sharks. How badass is that?

3) The Valley is fucked: For the blokes: Think of the worst kind of guys you see at music festivals; the big rigs jacked up on a facefull of pills, their own sense of self worth and too many lukewarm Smirnoff Blacks (FYI: the festival ones are the same strength as the Reds, they just cost more. Ya dickhead). Now, douse in a full can of Lynx Africa. Throw a Quiksilver button up shirt on over some ripped, randomly bleached jeans and a pair of leather dress shoes that have only a few remaining specks of blood left on them from last week's head stomping escapades. And you're set.
Now for the ladies: Think of the female equivalent of the aforementioned male festival fucktard - the attitude is likely similar, but externally they will have added a bottled tan or two, and they are likely at least pretending to wear some sort of garment on their upper body, no matter how brief. For your night out, don't change much at all. Well, possibly wear something a bit skimpier. Seriously, think of the tiniest, trashiest festival outfit you can think of and remove 50-70% of the material, because that's apparently what passes for a clubbing ensemble these days. And add a pair of super high stripper heels from Mum's closet.
Because she's a stripper.
And now you're set for a night out in Fortitude Valley! Yay!!



*collective nouns are rad. I'm super keen to find a sleuth of bears or a smack of jellyfish