This is an all-time classic poem based on the manner in which Australians apply a certain adjective in a loosely integrated manner.

It is a characteristic that leaves our Anglo cousins bemused... and the Seppos totally dumbfounded. You'll know it when you read it.

THE INTEGRATED ADJECTIVE by John O'Grady

I was down on Riverina, knockin' round the towns a bit,
An' occasionally restin', with a schooner in me mitt; 
An' on one o' these occasions, when the bar was pretty full 
an' the local blokes were arguin' assorted kinds o' bull,
I heard a conversation, most peculiar in its way, 
Because only in Australia would you hear a joker say,
"Where yer bloody been, yer drongo? 'Aven't seen yer fer a week; 
"An' yer mate was lookin' for yer when 'e come in from the Creek; 
"'E was lookin' up at Ryan's, an' around at bloody Joe's, 
"An' even at the Royal where 'e bloody never goes." 
An' the other bloke said "Seen 'im. Owed 'im 'alf a bloody quid, 
"Forgot ter give ut back to 'im; but now I bloody did. 
"Coulda used the thing me-bloody-self; been orf the bloody booze, 
"Up at Tumba-bloody-rumba shootin' kanga-bloody-roos." 


Now their voices were a little loud, an' everybody heard 
The peculiar integration of this adjectival word. 
But no one there was laughin', an' me I wasn't game, 
So I stood around an' let 'em think I spoke the bloody same.
An' one of 'em was interested to ask 'im what he'd got- 
How many kanga-bloody-roos he bloody went and shot- 
An' the shootin' bloke said, "Things are crook; the drought's too bloody tough; 
"I got forty-bloody-seven, an' that's good e'-bloody-nough." 
An' this polite rejoinder seemed to satisfy the mob, 
An' everyone stopped listenin' an' got on with the job,
Which was drinkin' beer and arguin' an' talkin' of the heat, 
An' stickin' in the bitumen in the middle of the street; 
But as for me, I'm here to say the interestin' news 
Was "Tumba-bloody-rumba shootin' kanga-bloody-roos."