We rescue British and French sailors halfway between Antarctica and the Western Australian coast - for free. We pickup (politically incorrect) boat loads of asylum seekers which we ship to pacific islands, Indo or the Aussie dessert while the paperwork is processed by fuck'n slow bureaucrats back in Canberra - for free.
Bugger McMurdo, we've got our own bases mate!
Being an explorer. An inventive Aussie, he could slide the bird to one of the other gazillion Aussie bases on Antarctica for refuelling, a hit of cricket, a cold beer and a few laughs before heading home to the misses for Christmas. Or he could wait for the drop from the RAAF boys, but he'd have to put up with those dull Americans.
Or perhaps the social rejects that habitat McMurdo, could show some hospitality and give him oily rag. Aussie Jon, with his scandanavian surname, might then just have enough fly to Casey, where I'm sure he can refuel before heading home to a ticket tape parade.
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Bugger McMurdo, we've got our own bases mate!
Being an explorer. An inventive Aussie, he could slide the bird to one of the other gazillion Aussie bases on Antarctica for refuelling, a hit of cricket, a cold beer and a few laughs before heading home to the misses for Christmas. Or he could wait for the drop from the RAAF boys, but he'd have to put up with those dull Americans.
Or perhaps the social rejects that habitat McMurdo, could show some hospitality and give him oily rag. Aussie Jon, with his scandanavian surname, might then just have enough fly to Casey, where I'm sure he can refuel before heading home to a ticket tape parade.