Real Kiwi Blokes

People who have been awarded the MBSNZ (Member of the Bloke's Society of New Zealand) in the Annual Kiwi-Bloke's Honours List.

All the All Blacks.
All the All Black Coaches. Even Mains (Even if he doesn't drink like Grizz)
Buck Shelford (Again)
The late Barry Crump (Despite the fact he's written books)
Gary McCormick
Graeme Brazier
John Clarke (AKA Fred Dagg, even tho he moved Next Door)
Sam Hunt (Despite the Poetry)

Improving your chances of being a MBSNZ
Bloke-Rating can be enhanced by any of the following:

• Owning a Swandri
  
• Owning a Ute
  
• Owning Several Black Singlets (but only wearing one)
  
• Having 2 pairs of 'Red-Band' Gumboots (One for formal occasions)
  
• Playing Rugby
  
• Being able to strip down the Ute in the weekend.
  
• Being able to put it back together Sunday Night
  
• Being able to drive the thing Monday Morning.
  
• Being able to Shear a sheep, Hiff a Hay Bale and Kick-start a milking machine
  
• Being able to fix almost anything with a standard claw hammer and a length of number 8 wire.

'Guys' who can't be MBSNZ's

• Anyone who owns a Hillman Hunter
  
• Anyone who drinks light beer
  
• Anyone who hasn't seen 'Goodbye Pork Pie'
  
• Anyone who hasn't driven a ute
  
• Anyone who watches "Shortland Street" (Even if it IS for 'Spade Work')
  
• Anyone who enjoys watching Paul Holmes
  
• Florists, Dancers, Interior Decorators, Vegetarians, Drinkers of "Diet" Beverages
  
• Shielas
  
• Anyone who doesn't know what a Shiela is.
  
• Anyone who plays Indoor Netball
  
• Anyone who uses Hair Gel
  
• Anyone who uses unleaded petrol by choice
  

'Guys' who will NEVER get to be MBSNZ's

• Anyone who owns, has owned, or has driven, an automatic Hillman Hunter, except in a demolition derby.
  
• Anyone who ever bought a keg of JK Light
  
• Anyone who admitted, implied, or hinted that they are, or were at one time, a SNAG
  
• Anyone who enjoyed "Muriel's Wedding" or "Priscilla.."
  
• Anyone who plays Outdoor Netball

Suspension of MBSNZ

• Crying. (Except when we lose the Rugby World Cup)
  
• Not crying when we lose the Rugby World Cup.
  
• Buying an underpowered automatic vehicle (Except if it's being bought for the Handbrake for her shopping, bearing in mind that she still has to drive the V8 when she picks you up from practice at the Public Bar)
  
• Playing from the ladies tee

The Super-Kiwi-Bloke
They're rumoured not to exist, but it's just possible that you'll encounter one out in a back-block somewhere. They're like this:

• They dock and crutch sheep with their teeth
  
• They use a carpenters pencil for everything from their tax form to a romantic note ("GET SOME BLOODY BOG PAPER!") to the Shiela on her birthday
  
• They've only got one pair of redbands and 3/4 of a singlet
  
• The town-car and the farm hack are one and the same, a Massey Fergusson (with transport tray for family outings)
  
• They've only ever had one dog, and it was beaut with some peas and mashed spud

The Insidious Rot that threatens blokedome

It's a fact of life that as soon as something good is recognised for what it is there are attempts to pervert or dilute the goodness of it. Blokedom is continually under threat, and it is your DUTY as a prospective bloke to guard against threats to Kiwi-Blokeana. You know what I'm talking about of course. Blokes hugging, or, dare I say it, kissing, other blokes. There IS no excuse. I don't care whether there's 10 seconds to full-time, you're 3 points down and you charge down the opposing half-back, wrestle the ball from his grasp, then do a victory lap back thru their frontline prior to scoring the try of the year, RIGHT UNDER THE POSTS, there's no excuse for hugging another bloke...
...Unless he's a member of the opposition and you're just about to chin him one for popping you in the face when the scrum came down and the ref's attention was diverted.

I don't care if it's 15 seconds to the final whistle at the Rugby World Cup, Kiwis only JUST in front, and Lomu takes one in the nuts and goes down, and the only person left to sub-on in time is you, a spectator who's slipped onto the field to briefly shout "Bring Back Buck!", so you come on, and you look up to see a player from the opposition slip thru all our players and the only person left to save Kiwiland is you, and you valiantly dive at the player, getting mulched by their piston-like legs, but you still manage to bring them down a foot before the try line and the whistle blows and you know you did the job like a good bloke. I don't care. Don't go jumping around hugging and kissing blokes like a complete nancy.

What you should do
You remember what you are, bear in mind that this is the greatest day of your life, and do what all the good players USED to do. You nod to your teammates, hock a greenie out the side, and jog back to your position like nothing had happened. Should you feel an OVERWHELMING urge to show your gratitude to another player who has done something similar, then, and only then, you might permit yourself to go a little overboard and call out: "Story!". But that would be the limit...