bogan:
ˈbəʊɡ(ə)n/
noun AUSTRALIAN informalderogatory
We all possess a degree of boganity. To some, I may appear classy; I love the theatre, I play classical piano, I have a large vocabulary and am a wealth of interesting (and largely unnecessary) facts (and ok, I’m probably the only one that finds them interesting).
On the other hand, I pre-drink harder than you party, I swear like a sailor, and more often than I care to admit, I wear tights as pants. Heinous, I know.
So when I heard about Bogan Bingo, I was intrigued. Straight to thepoolroom list of things to do before I leave London.
Last week, my opportunity arrived. My housemate Alice had not yet celebrated her birthday in [sunny] England, and Bogan Bingo was the obvious choice as she wanted to introduce her workmates to the “Australian culture”. Dress code: Bogan. Cue: flannie (as an aside, I love how iProducts autocorrect flannie to flange..lol), wifebeater, jeans (or in my case - jeggings worn as pants…) and our bingo dabbers at the ready.
Any Aussies who live in the UK and have not been to Bogan Bingo yet - do so immediately. It was one of the most hysterically funny evenings and made me so happy to be Australian - even though most of it was terribly bad taste. I had never played bingo before - I am now a convert - and thankfully the pace of Bogan Bingo was reasonably slow. When I had only one number to go, I had my hand at my crotch ready to spring to my feet to scream out, Bloody Bingo. Sadly, there was no winning from me but that did not detract from the experience at all.
The major prize each week is a holiday and remaining prizes range from the decent to the absurd (cue: coke and grass aka basil and talc powder).
At the conclusion of the bingo, big security guards swooped upon us all and swiftly packed up all the chairs and tables - and The Slug instantly transforms into a dance floor. My favourite part of the evening was looking at the few Londoners in the room who all had the same expression on their face: “what the fuck is going on?”
The only problem with Bogan Bingo? It’s on a school night. Either be prepared for a sore head and a sick tummy on the Friday (this may or may not have happened) or plan ahead for a day off.
Get on it, fuckers!
xx
ˈbəʊɡ(ə)n/
noun AUSTRALIAN informalderogatory
an uncouth or unsophisticated person, regarded as being of low social status.
"some bogans yelled at us from their cars"
We all possess a degree of boganity. To some, I may appear classy; I love the theatre, I play classical piano, I have a large vocabulary and am a wealth of interesting (and largely unnecessary) facts (and ok, I’m probably the only one that finds them interesting).
On the other hand, I pre-drink harder than you party, I swear like a sailor, and more often than I care to admit, I wear tights as pants. Heinous, I know.
So when I heard about Bogan Bingo, I was intrigued. Straight to the
Last week, my opportunity arrived. My housemate Alice had not yet celebrated her birthday in [sunny] England, and Bogan Bingo was the obvious choice as she wanted to introduce her workmates to the “Australian culture”. Dress code: Bogan. Cue: flannie (as an aside, I love how iProducts autocorrect flannie to flange..lol), wifebeater, jeans (or in my case - jeggings worn as pants…) and our bingo dabbers at the ready.
Any Aussies who live in the UK and have not been to Bogan Bingo yet - do so immediately. It was one of the most hysterically funny evenings and made me so happy to be Australian - even though most of it was terribly bad taste. I had never played bingo before - I am now a convert - and thankfully the pace of Bogan Bingo was reasonably slow. When I had only one number to go, I had my hand at my crotch ready to spring to my feet to scream out, Bloody Bingo. Sadly, there was no winning from me but that did not detract from the experience at all.
The major prize each week is a holiday and remaining prizes range from the decent to the absurd (cue: coke and grass aka basil and talc powder).
At the conclusion of the bingo, big security guards swooped upon us all and swiftly packed up all the chairs and tables - and The Slug instantly transforms into a dance floor. My favourite part of the evening was looking at the few Londoners in the room who all had the same expression on their face: “what the fuck is going on?”
The only problem with Bogan Bingo? It’s on a school night. Either be prepared for a sore head and a sick tummy on the Friday (this may or may not have happened) or plan ahead for a day off.
Get on it, fuckers!
xx
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