Category: ALF

  • The Big Thermometer, Stanthorpe, QLD

    The Big Thermometer, Stanthorpe, Queensland, Australia

    Queensland’s coldest town is also home to the state’s hottest Big Thing – The Big Thermometer in beautiful Stanthorpe.

    Angular and baroque, with the temperature proudly displayed in bright neon at the top, this massive monument stands ten (thermo)metres high. For our American fans, that’s a (faren)height of 33 feet.

    Unveiled to a chilly, yet curious public on September 4, 2018, The Big Thermometer is the culmination of 20 years of blood, sweat and tears.

    After many heated arguments within the community, construction finally started in mid-2017. Local chaps Albert Piper and Peter Ingall selected and attached the intricate stone façade. By the way, do you think they needed a degree to help build this temperature reader?

    The Sunshine State isn’t known for its icy weather, but Stanny is one of the coldest places in Australia, with a record low temperature of -10.6 degrees – something the locals are freezed as punch about.

    “We’re the coldest town in Queensland and we’re really proud of it and we want to showcase it,” Chamber of Commerce vice-president Mick Spiller babbled.

    “Everyone likes to get a photo taken in front of something big and we’ve certainly got a quality structure there for people to do that – I think the word will spread very quickly.”

    The Big Thermometer takes pride of place in the tranquil Rotary Park, next to the duck-filled Quart Pot Creek and just up from the Visitor Centre. They’ll always give you warm welcome!

    The Big Thermometer’s put Stanthorpe on the map – that’s for tempera-sure!

    Revenge is a dish best served… cold!

    Relations have long been frosty between the people of Stanthorpe and those of nearby Applethorpe, with both claiming to live in Queensland’s chilliest town.

    For decades, Applethorpers had bragging rights, as the Bureau of Meteorology plucked their readings from a fancy weather machine set up in their hamlet.

    Temperatures in Stanthorpe, on the other hand, were manually recorded and submitted to the BOM by rugged-up volunteers at 9am each day, so their arctic dawns never made the morning news.

    Then, in 1978 Applethorpe built the core-geous Big Apple – a true magnet for tourists – leaving the good folks of Stanthorpe even further out in the cold.

    And thus, the true brilliance of The Big Thermometer becomes apparent. Not only does its size and beauty draw visitors in their thousands, but there’s an even fancier weather machine hidden within its blocky bowels.

    Now both towns have Big Things. Both towns have wizz-bang weather-reading machines – and the rivalry is hotter than ever.

    It’s gettin’ hot in Stanny, so take off all your clothes
    I am gettin’ so hot, I wanna take my clothes off!

    When my pluviophilic pal, Gordon, and myself arrived in Stanthorpe, it wasn’t cold at all. It was, in fact a balmy 32.2 degrees – hot enough to melt the horns off Ballandean’s nearby Big Dinosaur!

    “If I’d checked the fur-cast,” Gordon wheezed as we climbed out of the Bigsmobile, “I would’ve shaved my body hair off beforehand.”
    “Weather or not you’re cold or hot…”
    “I know, I know, I need to keep a sunny disposition.”
    “You Mercu-really do,” I chuckled.

    We sat down beneath the branches of a sprawling tree, and watched a parrot land on the crown of the Thermometer. I glanced at Gordon. Gordon glanced me.

    “It really is an ice Big Thing.”
    “You need to sleet it to believe it!”
    “All hail this roadside attraction.”
    “It’s quite cloud-standing.”
    “Worth stopping for – don’t just look at it through the wind-ow as you drive past.”
    “It’s snow wonder the locals are so proud of their Thermometer.”
    “Although they can be a bit vane about it.”

    “Gordon,” I said gently, taking my chum by the hand. “I hate to rain on your parade, but I need to save some weather-related puns for my entry on The World’s Biggest Thermometer in Baker, California. Now let’s get some photos.”

    “No worries, Bigs, but just remember,” Gordon grinned, holding up a single finger. “No matter how tempting The Big Thermometer looks, please don’t try to climate!

  • The Big Tutankhamun, Buronga, NSW

    The Big Tutankhamun, Buronga, New South Wales, Australia

    Walk like an Egyptian to beautiful Buronga, near Mildura, where you’ll find an eight-metre-tall tribute to King Tutankhamun. All together now – Way-oh-way-oh, ooh-way-oh-way-oh!

    Surrounded by swaying palm trees and perfectly located by the roadside for a selfie (don’t forget to Nile!), King Tut provides the full Egyptian experience, without the 45-hour flight to North Africa. Like Cairo, there are a few dodgy types lurking around, so don’t get caught up in any pyramid schemes while you’re there.

    The Golden Goliath rules over the luxurious Edge Motel, a building that bears an uncanny resemblance to the Great Pyramid of Giza. But does the pyramid have OptusVision and and a 5.9 review score on Booking.com?

    Apparently there used to be a world-class restaurant onsite, with a range of food and sphinx served by head chef Gordon Ramses. But he left to open Anubis-tro somewhere else. And a word of warning to my friends in the Bitcoin community; despite the sarcophagus out the front, the little chap at reception doesn’t accept cryptocurrency.

    Locals say that, much like the Egyptian Pyramids, the owners used slaves to build the motel – but I had a good look around and it seems like they just used bricks.

    Stop by to say say hi-roglyph!

    Tutankhamen presides over a rough area of Buronga, so it came as no surprise when, as I struggled into my custom-designed Egyptian tunic, one of the local bogans hung his head the window of his souped-up Kia Stonic and yelled, “Show us ya Tuts!”

    “You must’ve ingested one too many cans of kicky beer, buddy,” I screamed at him. “There’s only one Tut in Buronga – and he’s right there in front of you!”

    Fortunately, the hotel room Gordon and I shared was well-presented, with relatively few scarab beetles scurrying around. My only complaint is that the bed was a bit hard, so I had to visit the Cairopractor the next day – teehee!

    We were kept up into the wee hours by Cleopatra and her six kids in the next room who, after a bit of back-and-forth, invited Gordon over to be her Mark Antony. Thanks for the offer, Raelene, but he has enough mummy issues as it is!

  • Blue Perspective, Southport, QLD

    Blue Perspective, Southport, Queensland, Australia

    Let’s go surfin’ now, everybody’s learnin’ how, come see Blue Perspective with Biggsy (and Bigella, Gordon and Gordina!).

    Surf’s up, dude, so wax up your board and don’t forget the shark spray, because this perspective will blue you away! With skin and hair as azure as the Pacific, this three-metre tall surf rat is hard to miss. She stands alone in Southport’s Broadwater Parklands, gazing earnestly towards the ocean. If you’re paddling past, give ‘Bluey’ a wave!

    Chic and stylish, yet bright and bubbly, Bluey superbly encapsulates the cosmopolitan atmosphere of the modern-day Gold Coast. A positive vibe and clean, healthy attitude make her the perfect role model for kiddies, which is a good thing because there’s a totally tubular playground just metres from her robust thighs.

    Blue Perspective was shaped by the legendary John Cox (yes, he responsible for the nearby Maddie and Mike) for the 2013 SWELL Sculpture Festival at Currumbin Beach. Bluey made such a splash that she remained there for several years after the festivities wiped out. Considering how sunny Queensland is, I hope she had plenty of zinc on her nose!

    Bluey was then purchased by the Big Thing-loving Gold Coast Council, who paddled her north to her current location. I don’t know the date she was installed, but assume it was on a Big Wednesday. The lovingly-presented park, with this immaculate Big, should be enough to tide you through many an Endless Summer.

    Cowabunga, dude!

    She’s blue (da ba dee da ba di)

    Longing for the authentic Surfers Paradise tourist experience during our visit, Bigella and I signed up for surf lessons. Not wanting to spend a morning surrounded by wine-drunk backpackers from Yorkshire, we instead decided to sit beneath the learning tree of the wise and eternal Blue Perspective.

    Of course, I would’ve approached my good chum Mick Fanning, but the surfing legend has some pretty ripe views about The Big Wheelie Bin. You might’ve punched a shark, Mick, but you also punched a hole in our friendship!

    With Gordina and Gordon (complete with super-cute flotation ring!) in tow, we were delighted to discover that Bluey is as charismatic as she is iconic. Her ample bosom and lithe, feminine curves aren’t usually to my taste, yet aroused a corporeal longing deep within my soul that had me yearning to hang ten compliments upon her generous hips.

    “Blue Perspective, the transcendent and career-defining opus of John Cox, shreds with a cobalt angst that belies her carefree visage,” opined Bigella, who had obviously been working her way through the thesaurus I’d bought her for Christmas.

    “I’m just jealous of her bikini line,” added Gordina.

    Our surf lesson went splendidly, until Gordon pretended to drown in a desperate attempt to lure one of Queensland’s bosomy, bikini-clad lifesavers in to rescue him. Oh, how we laughed when he was instead dragged to shore by Waldemar, a six-foot-four Lithuanian bodybuilder with a toothy grin and a pair of Speedos two sizes too small.

    I hope they’ll be very happy together.

  • Big Dog, Dunkeld, New South Wales

    Big Dog, Dunkeld, New South Wales, Australia

    How much is that Big Doggy in Dunkeld? The one with the ethically-sourced recycled metal tail? He’s free to visit but pawsitively priceless! This labradorable fellow can be hound out the front of the pupular Dunkeld Park Pet Hotel, in the terrier-riffic Bathurst hinterland. Say hello to Big Dog, your new best fur-riend!

    With his rugged, steampunk sensibilities and smooth, canine lines, Big Dog is the handiwork of local artist Jane Tyack. She didn’t base Big Dog on any pet-icular breed, but did make sure he was out of the corgi-nary!

    Big Dog was completed in 2020, at the insistence of hotel owner Brendan McHugh, as an out-of-the-boxer way to promote his business. Brendan, not surprisingly was Rover the moon with the result.

    “When we saw it finished we thought, ‘Oh my god, that is fantastic’,” Brendan yapped to a bewildered reporter. “It’s made from old recycled metal, old tools, a tractor seat, brakes from a car – you name it, they found it.”

    Contrasting sharply with the secluded scenery, Big Dog shines with an austere benevolence that’s as confronting as it is beguiling. And by collie, is he big! At 2.44 metres tall and weighing more than a tonne, Big Dog’s a little larger than the hotel’s other guests. But he’s a good boy, and just wants you to give him a nice, sloppy pooch on his cheek.

    And there’s more than a kennel of truth to that!

    Blue Heeler the World, Make it a Better Place

    Despite being made of rottie-ever was lying about, the realism of this Big defies belief. It’s a testament to Jane’s skill and passion that she was able to capture the rollercoaster of emotions that every dog exhibits in this genre-defining piece.

    “He wanted it anatomically correct, he wanted the paw up,” Jane said of Brendan. “It’s exactly how a dog would sit when it’s got one foot up.”

    “I started to make the head, Shane [Jane’s beloved husband] did a lot of the internal framework,” she added. “Its eyes are a mine ball cut in half and its eyebrows are off old railway tracks. I’m very happy with it, it took a lot of tweaking.”

    Some Biggies have said it’s a pomer-pain-ian in the mutt to find Big Dog, because he’s tucked away off the main road, around ca-nine kilometres west of The Big Gold Panner Man – but the map I’ve included should kelpie you find him. Just pug the coordinates into your GPS and, if you’re beagle-eyed, you’ll be wondering chow-chow you ever missed him.

    And relax, because there’s plenty of space to bark your car nearby. No need to thank me for my assistance, but a small dalmatian to your local animal shelter would be appreciated.

    Dachshund out to see Big Dog today!

    Mutts Ado About Nothing

    Gordon was far from his usual sprightly self as I eased the Bigsmobile into Dunkeld and pulled up beside Big Dog. He took an all-too-brief glance at the statue, then hung his little head.

    I took Gordon’s tiny hand and gave him my warmest smile, knowing exactly what was going through his mind. Gordon felt scared and abandoned, as I was putting him up in the pet hotel whilst I attended the 32nd Annual World Bigs Convention in downtown N’Djamena.

    “Maybe I can come with you, Bigs” he whispered, tears welling in his eyes.
    “Gordon,” I soothed, “you know they’ll never let you back into the People’s Republic of Chad.”
    “I know, and I don’t blame them, considering what I did to the Monumento de la Independencia last time I was there,” Gordon said, then looked up at Big Dog. “And anyway, they don’t have a Big Bow-Wow over there.”
    We embraced, and I wiped a single tear from my friend’s chubby little cheek.

    “You’ll love it here,” I cooed. “The staff are exceptional; the amenities spotless, and the kibble wouldn’t be out of place at a Michelin-starred restaurant.”
    “Sounds like you’re talking yourself into staying,” Gordon grinned, handing me an elegant set of dog ears. “My kennel’s big enough for two, you know.”

    I breathed in the crisp country air and admired the fawning landscape. It was a long way to Chad, and there was a comfy bed waiting for me just through the gates…

    “You’re right, Gordon,” I chuckled, placing the ears atop my head. “N’Djamena can wait until next year. And with my propensity for walking on all fours and constant desire for human attention, even the highly trained experts inside will think I was a dog… but I get the top bunk!”

  • The Big Koala Family, Port Macquarie, NSW

    The Big Koala Family, Billabong Zoo, Port Macquarie, New South Wales

    We are family
    I got all my koalas with me
    We are family
    Get up to Port Mac for this Big Thing

    Good things come in threes… or should I say Big Things come in TREES! Either way, this trio of torpid titans are the perfect embodiment of the modern euc-lear family.

    The Big Koala Family stand a grand total of eight metres tall and take pride of place in front of Port Macquarie’s sprawling Billabong Zoo, where it’s possible to take a happy snap with one of their regular-sized cousins. Emphasis on regular-sized, so I didn’t bother going in there.

    The monument is lovingly maintained and anatomically correct. There’s enough humour and character in the design to make for fun photos, and the gang are well positioned within lush bushland for a meet and greet.

    You could even say they’re un-bear-ably cute! Even though, scientifically, koalas aren’t bears, they’re marsupials. Thanks, biology, for getting in the way of another of my jokes!

    They’re a weird, yet adorable, mob!

    You might be surprised to learn that these Aussie icons are, like many of us, immigrants. The Big Koala Family was built by Natureworks (the Big Thorny Devil; Frilly the Lizard) in 1990, originally taking up residence in front of the successful Coffs Harbour Zoo. Those were the halcyon days of the town, with the Big Banana and Big Bunch of Bananas also proving a-peel-ing to tourists.

    Cataclysmically, the allure of this fabulous family wasn’t enough to save the zoo, which closed in 2007. Amid the hopelessness and destruction, the brave refugees packed their pouches for the long, hazardous journey south. Fending off bigotry, poverty and the fact everyone drives on the wrong side of the road, they found solace in another subtropical paradise.

    Like most ethnics, they’ve become much-loved members of their community – much like the nearby Big Bowl. Their vibrant migrant community is growing, with more than 80 one-metre-tall koalas hidden around town. Sure, there are a few concerns regarding the changing demographics of Port Mac, but most welcome their hairy, chlamydia-riddled new neighbours. Next they’ll be asking for the vote!

    A koala-ty design

    Keeping with the theme of family, I visited with my best friend/mentor Gordon Shumway and Rory, our adopted son. Rory is a child of koala background, and it was illuminating for him to meet others of his kind. As we left the zoo, I pinched Rory’s chubby little cheek and asked him what it was like to learn more about his history and culture.

    “I guess it was cool,” Rory replied, before returning to a YouTube video featuring a woman dressed as a princess opening Kinder Surprise chocolate eggs. Kids, hey!

    Fun fact: the two adult koalas are, in fact, both male. There you go – large and progressive!

    A note from the inimitable Bigs Bardot: Unfortunately I inadvertently outed two brave and sanctimonious koalas in this article. For that I apologise unreservedly. Coming out is a process that should never be taken out of someone’s hands and, as someone whose sexuality is under constant media scrutiny, I’m ashamed of my actions.

    Geoff and Scott – you’re braver than you can ever know. I’ve left the article untouched as a tribute both to my callousness and your gallantry as gay koalas. You guys rock!

  • The Big Apples, Batlow, NSW

    The Big Apples, Batlow, New South Wales

    Batlow’s got a lovely bunch of apples
    There they are, all standing in a row
    Big ones, bigger ones, some as big as a shed
    Their enormous size draws tourists like flies
    That’s what Bigs Bardot said

    They reckon Batlow is a town built on apples but, after a thorough investigation, I can reveal that most buildings are actually constructed upon concrete foundations. The locals do, however, go wild for a fresh honeycrisp.

    Not only do Batlow’s farmers provide 10% of the country’s total crop (a fact repeated by far more than 10% of the Batlowians I encountered), but there are THREE Big Apples dotted around the picturesque village.

    With only 1,313 residents, that’s one Big Apple per 437.666666667 Batlowians. I like those odds!

    The most prominent is the original Big Apple, an assuming fellow who’s lived just north of town for the past four decades. He’s the size of a small house, but don’t think about going in for a cuddle, because he’s on private land and it’s not possible to get within 100 metres of him. Oh well, distance makes the heart grow fonder.

    Until recently the Apple was barely visible through the flourishing orchards, but they’ve been thinned out in recent years due to fire, so it’s easy to see this scarlet scoundrel. Grab your binoculars and settle in for a big afternoon of apple-gazing!

    The Appleman Cometh

    Wilgro Orchard, a few hundred metres south, is home to a second Big Apple. Alright, it’s only half an apple pasted to a wall, but the owners are good people so I’ll give them a break. After snapping some memorable photos with this Apple, I popped inside for a dollop of Wilgrow’s famous apple chutney and a cheeky glass of their world-renowned cider. You know, just to make sure they’re fresh.

    After Gordon’s performance at the Darkes Forest Apple, we decided it was best for him to stay in the car, but on my way out he gave me the sort of judgemental look that only recovering alcoholics can.

    Halfway through my fifth can of the astonishingly good Batlow Road Cider, a funny little man with a bright red nose and a pronounced lisp wrapped his arms around me and introduced himself as The Appleman. His embrace lasted a little too long, but we were both appreciative of the human contact.

    “Bigs,” he slurred, before taking more than a sip out of my can. “It was January 2020. The flames climbed to the heavens and the wind was hotter than hell. The orange nightmare raged towards Batlow, destroying everything in its path. Houses were lost. Memories were eaten by the flames. But the community came together and fought the fire, standing shoulder to shoulder to beat it back.

    “We saved the Big Apples that day, my handsome friend. All three of them.”
    “And the rest of the village?”
    “I guess so,” shrugged the inebriate. “I only really cared about the Apples.”

    The drunk’s story was so inspirational that I shared about 12 cans of cider with him as we discussed processes that could be implemented to prevent other Big Apples – such as the ones in Tallong, Yerrinbool, Acacia Ridge and Balhannah – falling victim to the folly of bushfire in the future. And whether a polar bear could beat a karate man in a fight.

    Unfortunately I made the unforgivable faux pas of asking for a cup of pear cider.

    “This is an apple town, Bigs,” The Appleman boomed as he threw me into the street. “Don’t you forget it!”

    Core, Blimey!

    Fortunately Gordon – who made it clear he wasn’t angered by my behaviour, just disappointed –  was able to drive me to the third Apple, located a few hundred metres north of town. As he sat in the car calling those he’d wronged during his drunken years, I took a few happy snaps with what the locals call the redheaded stepchild of the Batlow Big Apples. 

    Created for annual Batlow CiderFest, this one’s pretty run down, discoloured, and is only half an apple. If I hadn’t been so drunk on good cider and great conversation, I may not have considered him a Big Thing at all. On the bright side, he’s the only one of the three positioned for a kiss and a cuddle.

    I indulged myself in animated conversation with this Apple until Gordon – capricious as always – dragged me away and threw me in the boot of the car. It was for my own good, really.

    Batlow’s Big Apples are shiny, sultry and seductive. But they’re also too much fun for one afternoon, and the sensory overload of encountering so many oversized fruits in such a short period of time will prove too much for all but the most cold-hearted party pooper.

    My advice is to relax, give yourself plenty of time, and don’t head to Batlow if you’re traveling with a recovering alcoholic alien – they’ll only get in the way of a good time.

  • The Giant, Cootamundra, NSW

    The Giant, Cootamundra, New South Wales, Australia

    Fee-fi-fo-fum
    Look at me with my massive chum
    He be large and he be hairy
    But the Coota Giant is never scary!

    Now THIS is a Giant worth climbing up a beanstalk for! The Cootamundra Giant is enormous, approachable, fun to take a photo with… and, best of all, he won’t try to gobble you up! But this big boy has a story even larger than his smile, which is certainly saying something.

    The Big, Friendly Giant is an affable chap with a jocular disposition, welcoming visitors to the well-appointed Cootamundra Heritage Centre. He’s also a bit of a scallywag, as he’s eternally pointing towards his crotch. Whether that’s a ‘big thing’ or not, I am not at liberty to say!

    The benevolent behemoth bounded into Coota sometime around 1975 (nobody really remembers when), thanks to a local artiste (nobody really remembers who). He first lurked outside the Giant Supermarket, luring in hordes of fascinated customers and leading to an economic boom in the region not seen since the gold rush.

    Tragically, this fairy tale was to become a horror story. The store’s focus shifted from Giant-related souvenirs and nik-naks, complete with name changes to ‘U-Mark-It’, ‘Half-Case Warehouse’, ‘Payless’, and the ludicrous ‘Food World’. The behemoth was forgotten and left to wither in the merciless Riverina sun.

    His smile, once known as ‘the ray of sunlight that warms Coota’, began to fade. It seemed as if Cootamundra, stepping daintily towards the new millennium, was ready to leave its icon behind. But local florists Allan and Phuong Jenkins weren’t going to let that happen, buying The Giant in the early-80s and relocating him outside their shop.

    I’m not dande-lyin’ when I say things have been pretty rosy since then.

    He’s been everywhere, man!

    Even though he’s the most popular chap in town, The Jolly Green Giant isn’t allowed into any of Coota’s pubs – because he’s legless! Ernie the Shepparton Giant suffers a similar disability, so maybe they can form a support group or something. Despite this setback, he’s surprisingly well-traveled and has even completed a lap of Australia.

    Alan, known for being as fit as a fiddle, participated in a Round-Australia fundraising marathon in 1985. His support vehicle had some spare space after the Dencorub and spare socks were loaded up, so Alan strapped The Giant in and took him for a ride around Oz.

    Crowds flocked in their thousands to watch The Giant roll by. Not even the Queen, Pope or Guy Sebastian commanded such crowds. As a toddler, I was crushed by a baying mob as we chased the Giant down the dusty main street of my hometown. The physical trauma healed with time, but the mental scars shall last a lifetime.

    The Jenkins family donated The Giant to the people of Coota in 2014, so that generations to come could bask in his glory. He was fully restored by Robert Newman, whose brother Jim completed the original paintwork all those decades ago. Well, Mother Teresa did say that the family that paints enormous roadside attractions together, stays together.

    If you’re wondering how The Giant stays so trim, it’s by playing cricket with his neighbour, Don Bradman’s Bat and Stumps. Maybe he could invite the Gold Panner, Knight, Wo-Man and both Ned Kellys around for a game of six-and-out. He probably also pops over to Young to feast on the Big Cherries as well!

    Yes, it’s been quite a ride for this kindly ogre. He’s been to the heights of fame and the brink of destruction; to the furthest richest of this great country and deep inside all our hearts. But, for now, he’s happily enjoying retirement in this pleasant rural community.

    One thing’s for sure – they don’t come much cuter than the king of Coota!

  • Moby Big, Nelson Bay, NSW

    Moby Big, Nelson Bay, New South Wales

    Call me Bigs Bardot. Some weeks ago – never mind how long precisely – having little or no money in my Dolce & Gabbana clutch purse, and nothing particular to interest me on Netflix during those dark days between the final episode of Squid Game and the premiere of Tiger King 2, I thought I would ride my super-cute carnation pink Vespa about a little and see some oversized roadside attractions.

    It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation, but mainly it’s just totally fun to hang out with giant bugs and huge bits of fruit and stuff like that.

    There are certain queer times and occasions in this strange mixed affair through the Land of the Bigs when a man takes this whole universe for a vast practical joke. And so it felt when, as I sauntered along the waterfront in Nelson Bay, I happened upon a tiny alien silhouetted against the endless ocean.

    He did not feel the wind, or smell the salt air. He only stood, staring at the horizon, with the marks of some inner crucifixion and woe deep in his face. He was also wearing the most adorable knitted cardigan!

    Anyway, long story short, Captain Gordon had spent most of his life searching for a great white whale. It consumed him, and he couldn’t eat or sleep until he found this massive mammal. The little alien seemed to be able to drink, though, because he was slurring his words and alternating between throwing punches and trying to kiss me.

    “Gordon,” I told him, clutching his furry hand. “Your life’s journey has come to an end, because the Shoal Bay Whale is just up the road. We can even get some jalapeño poppers on the way.”

    “Bigs,” he spouted, “The path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron rails, whereon my soul is grooved to run.”

    “So that’s a no to the jalapeño poppers, then?”

    The early bird gets the sperm whale

    It’s not easy doubling a boozed-up Melmacian on a Vespa, especially when everything was ‘Over unsounded gorges, through the rifled hearts of mountains, under torrents’ beds, unerringly I rush’ this and ‘Talk not to me of blasphemy, man; I’d strike the sun if it insulted me’ that. We were going to see a massive marine creature, so I didn’t get the porpoise of his ramblings.

    Fortunately, after passing The Big Red Bug and Bakker’s Big Peach, we soon arrived at the Whale. I was immediately smitten by his roguish good looks and cheeky smile. He’s built onto a trailer, meaning this oversized fish can splash around wherever he wants to.

    It was all a bit much for Gordon, though. The Nelson Bay Whale swam before him as the monomaniac incarnation of all those malicious agencies which some furry little aliens feel eating in them, till they are left living on with half a heart and half a lung. Or something like that.

    Gordon piled upon the whale’s white hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole alien species; and then, as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst his hot heart’s shell upon it. It was a clear breach of the ‘Do Not Climb’ sign.

    “To the last I grapple with thee,” Gordon whaled. “From hell’s heart I stab at thee; for hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee.” The poor little fella had obviously had too much excitement for one day, so I popped him on the Vespa and, thankfully, he fell asleep on the way home.

    The next morning Gordon had forgotten all about his desperate search for the white whale and had decided his newest lifelong obsession was to see the Big Apple Pie. Yes, it’s quite a story, and I only am escaped alone to tell thee about the extraordinary Moby Big.

  • The Big Kissing Galahs, Watson, ACT

    The Big Kissing Galahs, Watson, Australian Capital Territory

    Love is in the air, everywhere in Canberra town
    Love is in the air, no native bird has a frown
    And I don’t know feather I’m being foolish
    Don’t know feather I’m being wise
    But Big Galah love’s something I believe in
    Beak-ause they’re making out in front of my eyes

    As a hopeless romantic who aches to discover love, the allure of Australia’s most passionate Big Things proved irresistible. The Big Kissing Galahs, on the northern outskirts of Canberra, are forever perched on the precipice of a tender pashing sesh. Will they, won’t they? With my heart racing and palms sweating, I had to find out!

    Unveiled at a galah event in 2013, the lascivious lovers were the passion project of artists Bev Hogg and Elizabeth Patterson. The Galahs mark the entrance to a modern planned community, and supposedly represent the concept of new families nesting in the area. Well, that’s better than the concept of new families pooing all over cars. Eight years on, their lust burns brighter than ever.

    Wearing a freshly-pressed tunic and festive hat, I approached the bawdy birds to see if there was room for me, cocka-too. I leant in to join the smooching session, as every bird in every tree in the world sung a symphony for this moment. Alas, as has happened so many times in my life, I was shunned by those I loved the most, and the shattered shards of my heart were scattered on the spring breeze.

    Coming up: More galah-rious jokes!

    Fortunately my alien chum Gordon Shumway was on hand to pick me up off the ground. Not only did he provide me with the consolation prize of a few quick pecks, but he later took me to Fyshwick so I could pick out some sparklers. Sure, they weren’t the fireworks I’d hoped to see, but it was a nice gesture.

    Oh well, maybe I’ll have better luck with the Big Kookaburra. Or Pete the Pelican. Or the Big Penguin. Or Stanley. Or the Big Parrot. Or the Big Chook. Or Chinute Chinute. Or even the Big Powerful Owl, who lives just down the road in Belconnen. There are plenty more birds in the sky!

    I visited the Galahs briefly on my way out of Canberra, and became ensconced in the sweet melancholy of what they have, and what I fear I shall never find. However, even though they crushed my soul, I’m happy for their happiness. If things go the way I think they will, expect some little Big Galahs in about nine months time!

    Please note: The incubation period for galahs is approximately 25 days, however I changed this to nine months for humorous effect. Also, it’s unlikely the Big Kissing Galahs will breed as a little birdie told me they’re both male… although he may have been a lyrebird.

  • The Big Strawberry, Luddenham, NSW

    The Big Strawberry, Luddenham, New South Wales, Australia

    Yes, I know, I never seem to age, but sadly the same can’t be said about the Big Strawberry. With peeling paint and a wilted stem, she’s one of the most pip-iful Bigs I’ve ever encountered. The strawberry emporium she promotes is closed, and a darkness has descended upon the village of Luddenham.

    Honestly, if the Big Strawberry were any gloomier, she’d be a blueberry.

    She once had such huge dreams. To appear in the video for Strawberry Kisses, marry the Big Pineapple, and be the first resident of Luddenham to finish high school. Just as I never realised my dreams of starring in Gilmore Girls, the Strawberry was forced to shoot for simpler goals. These days she’s in a poor state and has been dumped by the side of a road in western Sydney.

    You may think this would cause a strawberry traffic jam, but no. It seems the good people of the west have forgotten about this fruit. Ex-straw-dinary, I know, but true.

    To make matters worse, Koonoomoo’s Big Strawberry – the world’s largest – has gone on to become a darling of the Big Thing world. Even Gordon Shumway, who loves Bigs one and all, had to be coaxed out of the car with the promise of being able to eat a local cat.

    I wanted to give the Strawberry a cuddle and tell her everything would be vine, but the height of the structure she’s perched on precluded that. That was the last straw for me!

    Luddenites say that at night, when the wind blows softly, they can hear the Big Strawberry weeping. Hopefully her salad days will return.

  • The Big Koala, Doonside, NSW

    The Big Koala, Doonside, New South Wales, Australia

    What’s cute, cuddly, and widely beloved despite being considered daggy by zoomers? These three guys right here! Sardonic alien Gordon Shumway joined me on this visit to Featherdale Wildlife Park, where we met the un-bear-ably handsome Big Koala.

    He’s not the biggest arboreal herbivorous marsupial around – that distinction goes to the Giant Koala in Dadswells Bridge, Victoria. But he’s 1.5 metres tall and made from high-koalaty materials, so I think he koalafies. Honestly, would you like to have a furr-ocious fellow that size slowly following you? Didn’t think so!

    As a tiny zoo swamped by the endless banality of suburbia, Featherdale is a throwback to a more innocent time. The Big Koala fits in well, because he’s simple and homely. I assume he arrived around 1972, when the park opened, making him one of Australia’s oldest Bigs. There have been numerous attempts to turn the park into housing, but the locals fought against its claws-ure.

    The Big Koala’s pouch-standing popularity proved inspirational to many nearby businesses. The Big Chook, Big Axe and Big Roller Skate are all within a short gallop.

    Dozens of world-famous celebs such as Leo DiCaprio, Bobby De Niro, Fatty Vautin, and the irresistible Taylor Lautner have spent time with the Big Koala. I saw the manager taking down Gwen Stefani’s photo to make room for this happy snap of Gordon and I. Unfortunately Ko-Ali G, Leaf Cassidy and pop group U-calyptus 2 haven’t visited yet.

    Featherdale is also home to quokkas, crocs, kangaroos and penguins. It’s possible to take a selfie with them, but why bother when there’s an awesome Big out the front? And sorry, ladies, but the little furry alien was a one-time deal ?

    The three of us had a mar-super-ial time together. We even enjoyed a piña koala or two!