A phenomenon experienced in rural Australia. See also mating ritual, exhibitionist, bogan.

When the young male of the species is looking for a mate, he tries valiantly to attract attention unto himself. In extra-urban areas, this is often done by the "bog lap". A bog lap requires one young male, one car, and one over-inflated ego. The bloke then proceeds to board the car, and drive him and his over-inflated ego slowly down the main street of town, with the windows down, one arm hanging out, sunglasses on, seat reclined, suitable music (Jimmy Barnes, AC-DC, etc...) turned up far too loudly. As he makes his way down the crowded main street, he hopes that a female or two may catch a glance of him.

The car is a vital part of the bog lap. Preferred is a Ford Falcon or Holden Commodore. Anything else is unpatriotic and/or a sign of homosexuality (not a good thing to display when looking for a mate of the opposite sex. The author has never seen a bog-lapper looking for a gay mate - this is the country after all. One supposes it is possible, however). A V8 engined car means instant credibility, though it certainly may not be deserved. Six-cyliner engines will suffice, as long as the stock muffler is replaced with a cheap, nasty sports exhaust muffler to make a small six sound like a larger and more credible eight. However, the desired sound can be achieved (and often is) by whacking the stock muffler around a bit with a solid object (a brick, maybe). This tends to destroy the baffled internal construction of the muffler, or maybe even pierce the surface of the muffler if you're lucky.

As for the body of the car, it must be modified. Cheap rear spoilers made of thin, misshapen steel will suffice initially, though more advanced bog-lappers will equip their vehicles with side skirts, a bonnet scoop and alloy wheels. All modifications must not necessarily be cheap to purchase, but they must look cheap. Alloy wheels do not need to be all of the same design, though it is helpful if they are all of the same radius. One cannot find a mate if they are busy constantly correcting the path of their car as it wobbles down the main street.

For a summation of the required automobile, refer to the song Nobody Likes a Bogan by Area 7, an exerpt of which is shown here:

He drives a VK Commodore with alloy wheels,
With a home made spoiler made from crappy steel.
His got a pair of fluffy dice and all the other toys,
But his No Fear sticker is his pride and joy.
On a Saturday night the boys hit the town.
Yeah they're cruising the streets with all their windows down.
They put on some Barnsey and they're on their way,
You can hear the car coming from a mile away.

As for the response of the intended audience, the bog-lapper experiences little luck. However, this does not discourage them. The bog-lapper fails to realise the fundamental fact that the majority of women (don't get me wrong, some do, and good on 'em) do not care about cars, engines, or Jimmy Barnes. The author tentatively suggests that maybe the bog-lapper should get out of his car, dress smartly, and attempt conversation with their intended mate.

The response of everyone else on the street? Under their breath, they mutter a common word: wanker. One cannot fail to see their reasons for thinking this.

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