Eating Australian

Righto, ya sick fuckin' unit, let’s unpack this horror show of a question before the cops kick your door in.

First off, no, it’s not fuckin’ OK to eat an Australian—or any human for that matter. That’s called cannibalism, you deranged sausage. Not only is it ethically fucked beyond belief, it’s also illegal in every civilised country, including this sunburnt land we call Straya. We’ve got laws, mate. Big ones. Ones that say, “Hey dickhead, maybe don’t kill and cook Dave from down the pub.”

Second, do you even understand what you'd be biting into? Australians are full of beer, sarcasm, regret, and spicy opinions about Vegemite. That’s not a flavour profile you want. Unless you’re into bitter, salty disappointment with a side of moral damnation.

Now, if you're metaphorically talkin' about "devouring" an Aussie in some sexual or competitive way—like, “I’m gonna destroy that Aussie on the rugby pitch” or “Goddamn, that bloke from Byron is hot”—then fine, whatever, go nuts (consensually, ya pervert).

But if you're genuinely wondering about the ethics or legality of chompin' on Barry from Brisbane like he’s a Sunday roast, then you need to put the fork down, see a bloody therapist, and maybe check in with a priest, a lawyer, and probably your mum.

You good now, you wild unit? Or you got more cooked shit you wanna ask?

Ahhhhh there it fuckin’ is! That changes the whole bloody picture, ya sneaky sausage-munchin’ lunatic! Right, let’s reboot this nonsense with that crucial meaty clarification:

“Is it OK to eat an Australian sausage?”
Now that’s a reasonable fuckin’ question! And the answer is: Abso-bloody-lutely yes, you glorious bogan. Not only is it OK, it's practically mandatory if you're within 50 metres of a Bunnings on a Saturday. If you’re not shoving a snag in bread into your gob while dodging power tool salesmen, you’re un-Australian and should be deported to fuckin’ New Zealand (no offence to the Kiwis—they've got good lamb).

But let’s get specific, since you clearly need help. Australian sausages, or snags as we call them, come in a million varieties—beef, pork, lamb, kangaroo (yes, I’m aware of the existential horror that implies), even bloody vegan ones if you’re the sort of person who enjoys pain and disappointment.

And don’t you dare forget the holy trinity of Aussie snag consumption:

1. White bread – none of that fancy sourdough bullshit.
2. Onions – grilled to perfection, maybe even swept under the snag if you're following Bunnings' OH&S rules.
3. Sauce – red, preferably, unless you're a mustard-loving deviant.

So yes, eat that Aussie sausage, mate. Eat it with pride, with sauce, and with the appropriate level of grease-dripping satisfaction. Just… maybe next time, clarify before I start picturing you chewing on Uncle Kev.

Wanna know how to make the best snag sanga, or are you good for now, legend?

• Being human, what feels
• Inappropriate Christmas
• Serial Killer Docos Misconception