The bigger the hat, the smaller the farm.
The shorter the nickname, the more they like you.
Whether its the opening of Parliament, or the launch of a new art gallery, there is no Australian event that cannot be improved by a sausage sizzle.
If the guy next to you is swearing like a wharfie he's probably a media billionaire. Or, just conceivably, a wharfie.
On the beach, all Australians hide their keys and wallet by placing them inside their sandshoes. No thief has ever worked this out. We might have very stupid thieves. Or really stinky sandshoes.
Industrial design knows of no article more useful than the milk crate.
All our best heroes are losers.
The alpha male in any group is he who takes the barbecue tongs from the hands of the host and blithely begins turning the snags.
It's not summer until the steering wheel is too hot to hold.
A thong is not a piece of scanty swimwear, as in America, but a fine example of footwear. A group of sheilas wearing black rubber thongs may not be as exciting as you had hoped.
It is proper to refer to your best friend as "a total bastard". By contrast, your worst enemy is "a bit of a bastard".
Historians believe the widespread use of the word "mate" can be traced to the harsh conditions on the Australian frontier in the 1890s, and the development of a code of mutual aid, or "mateship". Alternatively, we may all just be really hopeless with names.
The wise man chooses a partner who is attractive not only to himself, but to neighbourhood mosquitoes.
If it can't be fixed with pantyhose and fencing wire, it's not worth fixing.
The most popular and widely praised family in any street is the one that just happens to have the swimming pool.
The phrase "we've got a great lifestyle" means everyone in the family drinks too much.
The poisoning of Phar Lap remains the purest example of what happens when Australians attempt to take on the outside world.
If invited to a party, you should take cheap red wine, but then spend all night drinking the host's beer. Don't worry, he'll have catered for it.
If there's any sort of free event or party within a hundred kilometres, you'd be a mug not to go.
When tipping in a restaurant, we add 10 per cent, and then round down to the nearest large-denomination note. Yet, miraculously, we still believe we've tipped 10 per cent.
The phrase "a simple picnic" is not known. Or at least not acted upon. You should take everything. If you don't need to make three trips back to the car, you are not trying.
Unless ethnic, you are not permitted to sit down in your front yard, or on your front porch. Pottering about, gardening or fence-leaning is acceptable. Just don't sit. That's what backyards are for.
Out in the bush, the tarred road always ends just after the house of the local mayor.
A flash sportscar driven by a middle-aged man does not incite envy as in America, but hilarity.
On picnics, the Esky is always too small, creating a food versus grog battle problem that can only ever be resolved by leaving the salad at home.
When on a country holiday, the motel neon advertising the pool will always be slightly larger than the actual pool.
The men are tough, but the women are tougher.
The chief test of manhood is one's ability to install a beach umbrella in high winds.
There comes a time in every Australian's life when one realises that the Aeroguard is far, far worse than the flies.
And, finally, don't let the tourist books fool you. No-one says "cobber".
