Sydney has the biggest Ferrero Rocher™on a toothpick I’ve ever seen
Other nicknames for the Sydney Harbour Bridge: The Dental Work Frown, The Steel Rainbow, Baleen Bridge… I just don’t see a coat-hanger?
If Melbourne hasn’t got over 80s nostalgia – Little Golden Books menus, The Never-Ending Story theme song, dark pub irreverence – Sydney just can’t get past the 90s – Ken Done, a Sunkist Ad, banana bread.
Sydneysiders actually do keep a keen eye on Melbourne, but when they’ve finally got a food truck of their own, they realise the concept doesn’t quite work in their city, but whatever, just open another Thai restaurant, head down to a beach in winter, she’ll be right.
Thai restaurants compete with hairdressers on all high streets – they should just mix business: Hair Thai, Plait Thai, Pad Dye, The Pony Thai’l, Bristle & Gristle, Bob Yum, See Ew in Style, Semi-PERManent Detainment?
If you are female and blonde you must wear your hair on top of your head in a bun. No, no, you must– shhh. Bun.
If you don’t live near a train line, how’re you getting home? A bus? Hahaha.
You can have a ‘harbour view’ and still not be anywhere near a train line.
If you drive in Sydney, floor it. Disregard speed limit if you’re on a backstreet, a school zone, sharing with bicycles, about to run down an old lady, disobeying traffic signals… that car park five blocks and a train station away from work won’t wait for you!
Why do people even drive in Sydney?
Ferry rides are good for the part when you’re on the ferry, but the destinations are either leafy burbs, leafier burbs, leafless islands or Manly. The zoo’s good, but.
Triple-decker trains still make me feel like I’m in the future, even though some still have seating from the First Fleet.
You must have a ticket for a train, a ticket for a bus, a ticket for a ferry, a ticket for a tram, a ticket for the monorail, a ticket for a car park, a ticket for the bridge, a ticket for the tunnel, you must have a ticket to ride, ticket to ride.
Drummoyne is not actually a bogan kid’s name.
Clovelly has the most beautiful concrete slab in Australia.
The North Shore pays for a view of culture, rather than being anywhere near it. I hear the Gloria Jeans up there are great, though.
It’s pronounced “Could-gee” not “Coo-gee” for stupid, unfathomable reasons.
Sydneysiders are damp, constantly.
You’re not really living in Sydney until you’ve seen under the wing of an Ibis. It’s not pretty.