Another Anzac Day has passed and while most Australians did their best at remembering the sacrifices made by our Armed Forces and respecting the job those people have done over the last century and more, there is one type of person that comes under Best We Forget banner, and that is the Anzac Day Jerk.
The Anzac Day is a force unto themselves, blissfully unaware that they ruin everyone else’s day just a little we the kind of inconsiderate behaviour that is rightfully frowned upon on such a solemn day.
If you were near an RSL yesterday, you surely would have seen one, at least.
They are a close relative to The St Patrick’s Day Once-A-Year-In-An-Irish-Pub jerk, who will tell you about their heritage back to Ireland from 150 years ago, and they watched a couple of Father Ted episodes. Also, related to the Anzac Day Jerk is the Boxing Day Beach Moron, Good Friday Mega Party Neighbour and That Drunk at the Cricket Who Doesn’t Shut Up for Five Hours Before Finally Getting Evicted at the Tea Break To The Cheers Of The Entire Crowd.
Of course the Anzac Day Jerks plans to ruin other people’s Anzac Day starts so early, it is the night before. They are out until close of business the night before, because of the worrying situation of pubs not being open until 1pm the next day. Ever the opportunist, they spy the RSL dawn service as way to keep the buzz going. Even if it is Rum and Milk.
The reward for hiding the alcohol fuelled swaying for long enough is to partake in the post service drinks, despite being gloriously ignorant of the death stares he is receiving for being there in the first place, and for snorting, drilling the wax out of their ears, and doing small “vurps” in their mouth.
Not content with just grabbing a drink or two, the Anzac Day Jerk will claim some long lost relative who was vaguely attached to a war they can’t remember, doing stuff they can’t recall. The proper Anzac Day attendees are too polite to call bullsh!t. For now.
After the sun comes up, the Anzac Day Jerk will eventually waddle home, via McDonalds for a Hash Brown, and a further Traveller’s Pie from the Servo around the corner.
Come 1pm, the Anzac Day Jerk is ready to go again, for the main event – to be the biggest jerk possible on the biggest day of the year for the establishment they are attending.
Like yachting “experts” on Boxing Day, “Occasional Revheads” on Bathurst 1000 morning, or anyone hosting a Morning Show type program on Commercial TV, they Anzac Day Jerk will spend the first few hours talking high level crap to anyone they can find in a uniform, even mentioning the three days they spent in Army Cadets, excluding the part of the story where they were thrown out for putting a bullet in a can of petrol and burning down five hectares of bushland.
Then comes the grand finale…..the Anzac Day Jerk finds the Two Up pit.
What comes next is a performance of pure jerk, a poster child for why the Government banned Two Up in the first place. The Fu-kwit of the Highest Order produces a Tour de Force in jerkdom. From over-the-top banter and insults to the person flipping the coin, arguing with the bets they have made, refusal to pay for losing bets, excessive swearing and racist taunting, and eventually throwing up in the middle of the ring.
Finally to the cheers of most, if not all, the Anzac Day Jerk is picked up by their belt of their jeans and back of their collar and is “planked” out of the local RSL into the nearest and itchiest hedge possible.
The Anzac Day Jerk will stumble and scratch their way home, taking 45 minutes to zig zag the 10 minute stroll, helping themselves to another spew and cursing the closed bottleshop on the journey.
Ironically on the day on the day where the term Lest We Forget is used over and over again, the Anzac Day Jerk will remember nothing, and front up for work the next day a bit dusty, and unaware of the path of destruction they have caused.
And with no memory of the hurt, inconvenience and embarrassment of this year’s edition, you know they will be back next year. At RSLs across the nation.
Everyday News is a brand new general news/parody section of The Gurgler, and definitely not a lame rip-off of The Betoota Advocate. We swear.
