An Australian Shows You Lot How Yuletide F***'in Cheer is Made · 3:00pm Dec 23rd, 2015
G'day mates. Cheers for chuckin' a squiz round my neck of the bush. Now, you lot are prob'ly wonderin' why I reckon'd to put my sunnies on when it's right royal obviously midnight. Well, struth, I can answer that one for you right simple.
It's because this might just be the brightest idea I've ever had, and that means wearin' the appropriate protection.
Alright let's see what we got here.
Remember to lay out your workspace in advance or you'll look like a git. Here's one I fuckin' mastered for you lot yonks ago.
Bam! Double cream, or what you fuckin' poofters would call 'heavy cream'. This little beauty right here is the jammiest of jams, which, when spread on scones with actual jammy jam with a good bit of billy tea, makes for what we call a Devon tea. But that ain't neither here nor there.
And this right here is full cream milk. Make sure you talk to Bruce down at the dairy and get the good stuff. Tell him R.J sent ya, he's a good mate 'o mine. Every Bruce who works at a dairy is a good mate o' mine. They're all top-shelf lads.
The gen-u-ine Australian cane sugar. Look at that little sheila. You gotta sneak up on it right quick-like, though, or she'll scarper right scarce-like.
And finally the drink that speaks for itself, the Kentucky Bourbon. Now, you reckon a good Armidale boy such as meself should stick to using a cognac maybe, but nah, this stuff is the real fair dinkum. And if you ain't quick, it'll suck the style right outta ya and keep it as its own. Fair warnin'.
Now you got your workbench set out, it's time to get to the real cookin' stuff. Let's get cracking! Now, you gotta seperate your indigenous and your whites -- Whoops, already did that a couple years back, didn't work out so great. Yolks and your whites, and you can't let 'em mix. Fucks the whole job lot up, trust me on that. Personally, I like to seperate 'em using sheer force of will.
Hey, mates. Reckon you could, if you'd too rightly do so, please sort your lot out?
You what, mates?
You fuckin' what?
Now you lads better sort yourself up proper like, or I'm gunna have to fight you. You wanna go, you speccy cunts?
Now eggs are fragile little poofters, so that usually does it. Now, these eggs are like your children. You got them all cared for and neat, so what does any loving Australian father do right about now? Tha's right.
If it ain't white, you beat it.
Now, things get a little censored here. Mostly because it involves me pouring ingredients with one hand and using an electric mixer in the other. No free hand to hold the camera, I'm afraid.
Well, that and I'm mercilessly beating four large eggs. That can't be forgotten.
No evidence, no witnesses, no survivors, weren't me officer, I was blind, deaf, dumb and weren't even there.
Basically, to the four beaten egg yolks, you keep adding in 2 cups milk, 1 cup of the cream and 1/3 cup sugar. And then, yes, oh yes, when that's done:
You should get a little something like this.
You know what you call that? Obedient. That shit right there's just good parenting.
Right, more Australian version of myself. We get the point. You're a terrible stereotype and a terrible person.
I'll fuckin' fight you.
I know you would.
And I'll drink all the 'nog myself before you get any.
Wait- No! Okay, okay.
S'more like it, poof. Now, here's where things get real intense. Into this custard broth...
Three Oz ounces of this beautiful liquid gold. So that's our custard base. Where's the rest of it, then, eh? Well we gotta mix the egg whites back in.
Disgraceful. Appalling. We can't let this soft stuff touch our glorious booze. It's unworthy and it's goddamn atrocious.
Fortunately we know how to toughen the little shits up.
When your egg white become a foam of white, fluffy peaks that's when it's time to stir in a tablespoon of sugar to your fluff.
Then, pour your-
Done.
I wasn't finished explaining it, yet!
Well that's because you're fuckin' slow. This is why we put you in the special reading group, eh?
That was my choice to make and you should respect that!
Not bloody likely. Anyhow'sit, now you mix your custard solution back into the froth you've made, holding that electric mixer on the whole time as you slowly -- slow as this speccy here -- pour it in. There. You're done. Pour that into a mug for yourself and drink your raw egg custard booze like a fuckin' man.
If you look real close, you can see there's a Rainbow Dash print on the mug. It's what I'm going to be using on Christmas to do the drunken livestream. Should be fun.
Ponies are poof stuff.
They're like a brumby that can give consent.
... Struth? Too right, then, mate? Well, 'right, got me there.
Right. Anyway. You can keep the bourbon.
EDIT/AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This one's dedicated to my little brother, who pulls shit like this all the time, even when he thinks nobody's watching. He also decided to put himself in hospital when he thought nobody was watching, then, too. Someone almost always is, though. It's just hard for him to have the first Christmas of his lifetime away from family because of it.
To quote John Darnielle; "I was about to set this when I thought... you know? It could be done better." I just wish brother was around right now to prove it to me.
"Too long, didn't read."- Times Magazine
"The graphics were reminiscent of a early PS2 action game, but without the smooth controls expected of the genre at the time. 9/10"-IGN
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" - everyone with a 56k modem trying to load this
Fair dinkum, mate, I've just about had a gutful of all this "Where's your Chrissy spirit?" belly-aching from friends and family. So I reckon after all that guff this beaut' invention of yours will be just the ticket for knockin' me bells for six. Too right.
(Happy Christmas!)
Well I'll be dipped.
Cheers mate.
Does the sugar dissolve in to the drink, gets suspended in it, or sinks to the bottom?
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Dissolve, if you pour it in slowly.
The only way this would have been better is if you actually videoed it for us.
~Skeeter The Lurker
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I considered that. But all the photos here are things I'm able to take with a ten second timer. Video would have been even more of a pain.
I mean, I could have got me ol' Mum in as a camerawoman, but she was already thoroughly disappointed in me. You can see her exuding shame in the back of the picture underneath 'force of will'.
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Shall I take a guess and assume she added a bit extra to her glass?
~Skeeter The Lurker
Ever had to try and scream with laughter quietly? I sure have. Why do I always find these when I'm at work?
I'm looking forward to the stream. I'll probably be 2 hours or so late. We do family stuff on Christmas eve and it starts at the same time you do.
Well. That happened. No offense meant, but you look a lot more awesome than I envisioned you. Thanks for the Oztastic nogstructions.
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Always weird, right? We tend to picture funny people as ugly, as if they were compensatin'. When I first met this guy I assumed he looked like a blob of fat with a mouth, but turns out he's just an aussie Ed Sheeran. There are nude pics of him in this site, if you know where to look.
(Likewise, the very first thing this motherfucker told me after seeing my face was "you are way prettier than the way you sound", which I chose to take as a compliment.)
Numbers, I'd say something about the blog, but I'm on a phone and there's no way it's loading the pics. Best of wishes towards your brother, though. I'm sure y'all will make it.
All I have to say is that is one snazzy outfit you have there.
All Loopy has to say is.......
I can see right through you MrNumbers; there aren't even any corks hanging from your hat brim.
The word 'sexy' is not enough. We need a sexier word than 'sexy' to describe how sexy Numbers is.
Well, that was informative. Also you have nice hair! Merry Christmas and whatnot.
If it ain't white, you beat it till it's proper FROTHY.
… Wait, when did we start playing Cards Against Humanity? How did you win all those black cards? And why did I just wake up in a bathtub full of ice, holding an empty mug of your eggnog, with my abdomen lighter by the weight of three love-storage pouches?
Jesus fucking christ this is terrible u should go 2 jail for implying these things...
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) jk u should post new chapter of mare on the moon
merry christmas lad
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You and me gotta get together sometime for a game of Quiplash.
It's pretty fantastic.
Wait, my name is R.J. and I sure as shoot don't know anyone named Bruce who works at a dairy farm.
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Well, see, that's because I used to be one of the Armidale Liddells.
niceglutenfree.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/Liddells-Milk.jpg
The R.J is less important than the L that follows it.
Kentucky Bourbon? Fair Dinkum? No f***ng way! It's bloody second rate metho with yellow food colouring added!
Fair Dinkum is a good bottle of Tasmanian single malt... Nant, Sullivan's Cove, Three Capes, Overeem or Lark. Of cause, all of those are too good (and expensive) to turn into Egg Nog...
Mind if I skip the bourbon? I'll take the rest, though...
Stone the crows, that's bloody awesome mate