Panic buyers have left supermarket shelves bare of bog wrap and other essentials due to fears over coronavirus becoming a pandemic.
Idiots have been frantically stripping shelves of toilet tissue and other household products such as pasta and frozen pies in a frenzy that shames the national character. However, we here at NAB aren’t convinced that the bulk of panic buyers are even Aussie. We would love to racially profile these morons to see who the main offenders are and then give them a taste of justice by hurling infected hankies over their wall.
But we have better things to do such as investing all our spare money buying up shares in Sorbent.
We are confident the mass of those raiding the grocery aisles are Chinese followed closely by wogs of Arab descent. Both have a racial predisposition to hypochondria. In the case of the Chinese, it is a matter of grave outrage that they cause the virus by eating bats and live reptiles just for thrills then flee here and spread their manky bug to us. If that’s not bad enough, they have the cheek to then strip us of our dunny paper supplies, which is not only cruel but hurts. Especially when regular persons need it now.
These clowns are hoarding two-ply, four-ply, scented, patterned, facial tissues, baby wipes, anything they can rake into their trolleys. What are they expecting? When is this virus imminent? How much do they plan to excrete anyway? Are they figuring their backsides are likely to explode? If they comported themselves with a modicum of composure calmness might prevail instead of the panic they are bent on spreading. What pussies they be, what a lot of petals.
Frankly, we gentile folk here at NAB offices would be embarrassed to buy a ten-pack of loo roll let alone stumble to the checkout with our arms straining under a wobbling tower of the stuff.
The embarrassing behaviour hit a pitch at Parramatta where it is reported a woman pulled a knife on a man in a shopping aisle in a dispute over a packet of trot tickets. She wasn’t Chinese either. The shame. What would Jesus have said if he’d have stumbled in looking for a slice of goat cheese pie and saw this lot carrying on? Honestly, it’s scenes such as these which make us desirous of coronavirus spreading and taking a major toll on these exact nitwits. Anyone who freaks out this badly deserves to catch the fucker and die horribly while spreading it to their families and friends.
Panic buyers are a blight upon the Australian character, and we say that just in case any Anglo-Celtic Aussies happen to have succumbed to this humiliating rat-like scramble. We hope they take a long hard look at themselves and remember what it once meant to carry oneself with British phlegm, as they used to say, or Aussie pluck, as we advocate.
Whatever happened to the true Aussies? We were never like this? Once upon a time, we would have sat back laughing at these galahs as we watched them on the world news carrying on like headless chooks. But thanks to globalism what once we looked upon with shaking heads has become us.
The risks of catching coronavirus would’ve been non-existent if the white Australia policy had been in place. If the universities weren’t so financially dependent on alien money and were national institutions, we wouldn’t have these traitors financing Chinese students stricken with the virus entering our country via backdoor shenanigans.
If the government wasn’t a slave to foreign powers, they might’ve had someone within their ranks with the testicular fortitude to round up all the Chinese and ship them off to the Antarctic for an extended quarantine period.
Instead, we let it spread, and now people are acting like the citizens of Springfield in an episode of The Simpsons.
If you really are going to catch it then do so with dignity, for fuck’s sake. Remember, all the while you’re sweating, sneezing, coughing and your respiratory system is breaking down that you’ll vow to get even with the next chink bastard who crosses your path as soon as you’re better.
That’s the Aussie spirit, not running around like a schoolgirl who’s lost her hairbrush.
How might old Slim Dusty have put it to song: “There’s nothing so lonesome, morbid or drear, than to be left with no paper to wipe your own rear”.