Sydney sucks. Here's a list showing why and how.
1. Kyle Sandilands, Alan Jones. Queensland turds who realised that having no moral compass can make you a shitload in Sydney’s media. Sydney people love a bit of controversy to spark up their dull, fucked up lives.

2. Gus Worland –Self styled “everyday bloke” who in reality went to Knox, one of Sydney’s most privileged schools. Entire brand built on knowing Hugh Jackman, despite Jackman never mentioning him. No talent. No wonder he got a gig on commercial radio and his own cricket TV show.

3. Scott Morrison – Self styled “everyday bloke” who in reality grew up in the eastern suburbs and went to Sydney’s most privileged public school. Moved to the Shire and overnight became an instant lifelong Sharks fan. Complete fraud. No wonder he got all the gigs.

4. Malcolm Turnbull – A constantly on the make spiv who could, like Sydney’s best, sniff where fame and money could be gained. Worked for Packer. Made money from the internet, bought in one of Sydney’s most revoltingly expensive areas. At least he never pretended to be ordinary.

5a. Bob Carr – One of NSW’s worst Premiers. Not Askin bad, but close. Decided that what Sydney needed was no infrastructure planning for the outer suburbs – and then opining that the city shouldn’t have new brown people to live in those under-resourced hell holes.

5b. The other thing about Carr is that he also decided that Sydney should be the new Vienna and have an atrociously expensive and disorganised “Sydney after dark” spectacular. They were a fucking nightmare.

6. The Packers. If they aren’t the most Sydney thing of all time. Bullies who have fucked up the media, sport, political, social life of Australia through their mendacious elephantine grip. Ita loves them, Malcolm loves them, the ABC have funded hagiographies of them. Get fucked

7. NYE Fireworks. A key symbol of the onanistic selfishness and disorganisation of the place. Millions of dollars pissed away into the sky while its citizens jostle and fight below, trying to get in and then out of the mess of the city in a glorious orgy of aggressive privilege.

8. Camden. A white fortress of Colonial mediocrity, where the locals consider brown people – especially Muslims – as the unwashed hoard coming to take away their piss poor pubs and tributes to criminals like John Macarthur. No wonder Mark Latham loves the place.

9. Sydney Airport – has everything that is fucked in Sydney. Owned by those fuckwits at Macquarie Bank, used to be run by John Howard’s hatchet man. The worst airport to use on every level. Parking is shit. No-one not fucking wealthy leaves the place without being angry.

10. Italian Restaurants in the Lower Blue Mountains – white people in this area can’t get enough of mediocre, non Asian food. Sure, let’s cook some more fucking pasta and have no worthwhile options on Menulog for people under 50. God it's depressing.

11. Sean Garlick – As featured on the Bachelorette. Yes, the bloke who happened to segue his rugby league career into a pie empire. Loves the Libs. Now he thinks he’s the fucking King of Pies, championing the “Garlick name” into the future. Classic Sydney deluded fuckturd.

12. Michael Daley. Torpedoed any chance of winning by telling white racist boomers in the Upper Blue Mountains that it was a tragedy one of his kids was moving to Melbourne because of Asians taking her job. Boo fucking hoo. You only live in Maroubra, champ. I'd leave there too.

13. “Lottoland” – otherwise Manly’s home ground. A proudly unrenovated, asbestos ridden temple to a dodgy lottery scam sits as a deluded symbol of when Manly was apparently working class and down to earth.

14. Panthers – The palace built on the lost wages of the pokie addict. You can have yourselves a good meal, a pretend sky dive, a water ski all next to the area with most pokie machines in Sydney – all conveniently situated right near the kids’ video game area.

15. Leichhardt Oval – A run down relic for wealthy inner suburban men to cosplay as working class rugby league supporters. Great for Albo to cosplay with them. Meanwhile, the engine room of the Tigers, actual working class Campbelltown, is left in the dust by the Tigers' board.

16. Members Stand at the SCG – Government funded indulgence for the elite of Sydney to run in the Paddington Gift for their precious seats in the shithouse old Members’ Stand. Amongst them, Alan fucking Jones, watching on while the plebs sit on the other side in $110 seats.

16b. Meanwhile, their children, the young stockbrokers break out the check and Hawaiian shirts, sit in the dazzling Noble, pretending to know something about the game. The same fuckwits who pretend to know what's going on in Swans games.

17. No Aircraft Noise Party. A bunch of wealthy NIMBYs worried about jets lowering their house prices led by wealthy publisher Sylvia Hale realise that they won’t get anywhere with a one issue party. So they take over the NSW Greens and chase out the actual environmentalists.

18. Albo. Numbers man with no really fixed ideology plays with his image over the years and decided he is “working class” and “supports Souths”. It works on the "left wing" image conscious residents of Grayndler and he is now trying to transfer the brand nationally. Badly.

19. Doyle’s. Classic Sydney brand, near the fucking water, which makes everything overpriced. Including their fish and chips. Sucks the punters right in. At least they are honest with their hoodwinking. And it's little wonder they have an outlet in the SCG Members'

20. The Star. Glorified RSL that thinks it’s fucking James Bond worthy. Government agrees, making it immune from lockout laws.

21. Fred Nile. Only in Sydney could a failed pastor drag together enough votes for his scam of a party. He represents a puritan strain of Sydney that even Adelaide raises an eyebrow about.

22. Beaches. All of them. They are only sand and water. Places have that all over the country, but you don’t see people getting themselves into a lather over the “value” of it. The only difference between Bondi and the Gold Coast is that Bondi has more kale in their shakes.

23. Strathfield IS in the inner west, you racist fuckwits.

24. Selective High Schools. Peak Sydney is pretending that selective schools are not full of kids who are either privileged or tutored within an inch of their lives. They gut local schools, and force kids to take train rides of over an hour. Terrible relic of Greiner years.

25. The SMH. A petty newsletter for the inner circle of Sydney, where cafes, private schools and infrastructure projects are fretted over. Meanwhile, there’s millions of people pilloried, belittled or ignored by its journos, living their lives outside its pages.

26. The Harbour. Love pictures of it with “glorious Sydney” written on it? Not shown, the painful journey needed to reach that moment. Only the rich can enjoy it regularly without pain. It's the bait for a scam that says “Move here. Sydney is glorious”. Don’t fall for it.

27. Getting Anywhere. People say to me on social media “Sydney is great” and will then cite a whole bunch of places within 10k of the CBD. But unless you are in finance, paying ridiculous rents or selling coke, it takes 3 hours return for most people to get anywhere deemed "cool"

28. The Silent Wall of No Way. Have friends who live within 15 km of the Sydney CBD? Want them to visit you in The Outer Suburbs? Don’t bother, they won’t come.

29. The Shire (Sutherland). Sydney in miniature, mostly white. Bad pubs, obsession with da beach, a shopping centre where people dress up in clothes they think look good, and men who fervently, mistakenly believe they are cool. You can always tell who are Boys from the Shire.

30. The Shire (Hills). That other white citadel. Ray Hadley is its King. Heat generating McMansions crowded together in undulating waves while their Liberal voting small business owners have yet to work out that it will always take them forever to drive out of the dump.

31. Hillsong. A cult built on the idea that rich people living in the Hills can pretend that poor people living down the road in Blacktown don’t need help – even better, that it’s their fault they are poor. So, party on, rich white people, buy our music. You deserve it.

32. Lockout Laws. Never has there been more media hype over something so insignificant. The now dead nightspots in the lockout areas were almost all pretentious dives, filled with men wearing boat shoes and drinking Coronas. They were no loss.

33. Surry Hills. If you are driving the streets of Surry, you’ll see queues of people wearing beige chinos trying to get into The Clock or one of the restaurants. Having being able to park near those establishments twice, it’s not worth trying to park a third time.

34. Merivale. If you want to feel the real Sydney, step inside a Merivale establishment. Stroke the bad chrome and steel. Allow the pretentious expense seep into your bones. Within ten minutes, you will be hankering for a check shirt and want to talk about property prices.

35. The Beau Ryan Principle. What is it about TV producers in Sydney that they believe that a blokey Sydney rugby league player is instantly a relatable national TV star? Seeing him being patronising to locals across several nations is Sydney exported to the world.

36. Phil Gould. Watch him stride across football fields, expound, heckle, shout. That’s entitled white male Sydney privilege writ large. League gave him power. Progressive league fans will say that he’s nor representative of the code. They are wrong. He is its ultimate symbol.

37. Leagues Clubs. We should take people visiting Sydney to a leagues or Catholic club. Show them the vast “indoor outdoor” areas where people can legally smoke while on the pokies. Or show them how people love cheap food, subsidised by families losing truckloads. Peak Sydney.

38. Scott Cam. Self styled “everyday bloke” who in reality grew up in the privileged Eastern Suburbs. Looks like he can build stuff. No wonder he is everywhere and now also getting paid by the Government to be Scott Cam.

39. Ms 1, 4 and 5. If you work somewhere too far from public transport. If you are like most people on a wage of the 80 – 100k level and want to own a place, then you have to confront the worst motorways in Australia. All bad, all choked, all soul destroying. There is no escape.

40. Tony Abbott. If Tony Abbott grew up in any other city, we would never had heard of him. Sydney provides the right hothouse conditions to grow mutated monsters.

41. Inner City Street and Town Festivals. You’ll see ads for these. “Great, I’ll go”, you’ll say. Do not make this mistake, unless you love long drives, terrible parking waits, massive queues, entitled arrogance and when you finally get to the head of the queue, disappointment.

42. Peter V’landys. Rugby league has an image problem. So what better way than to appoint a chairman who also presides over horse racing, that cruel money pit that glamorises gambling while forcing animals to run in circles. Sydney’s obsession with gambling down to a tee.

43. Sydney’s Intercity Trains after dark. If you live in a regional area and want to have friends in the inner city, the train is not an option if you want to stay past 11.20pm. Unless you want to Uber it to Central and pay a small fortune.

44. The Opera House. It looks great outside. And then you go in. If you are in the cheap seats, expect a big, steep walk. And then get mediocre sound and seats with almost no leg room. It’s the Tiger Air of concert experiences.

45. The “value” of terraces in the Eastern Suburbs. There is no way that it is actually worth more than $2 million to live there. Those areas are smoggy, stink of fumes, have next to no backyards. Sure, you can go to a café with your tiny dog, but for $5mill?

46. Miranda Devine. Dad was a journo, Miranda has a degree in maths. So that makes her entirely qualified to conduct a vicious and destructive campaign against the great people of the English Teachers' Association.

47. The Sydney Festival. An increasingly unwatchable program of things built for an audience who seem to consist entirely of people who live in Paddington.

48. Racecourses. Temples to the heroes of Sydney - the bookies, horse owners and the elite in the stands. Meanwhile, the grasping aspirational elites turn up thinking they can climb the social ladder. Meanwhile, horses get whipped, punters lose more cash.

49. Most times media outlets write about the outer suburbs. The tone is always like the British going on a safari in the "wilds of Africa", where they look for a "yarn" about how long it takes to get there, plus describing wild, untamed locals to amuse their well heeled readers.

50. The Richies. Richie Benaud was a fairly low key bloke who had flair as a captain. These ex private school poseurs who get together singing rubbish songs and enjoying their performative conformity are exactly the opposite. Peak Sydney, peak cringeworthy.

51. “Why do you need to drive a car?” Rich people, NIMBYs and planners in the inner city who have no idea how impossible it is to live without a car west of Strathfield.

Here is a handy compendium of the thread. https://threadreaderapp.com/thread/1197848848120418304.html

52. Going to the Sydney Fish Market for Easter or Christmas. If you are not a professional chef or wholesaler, why go to the effort of driving to one of the worst places to go in Sydney - run down and terrible parking? To boast. So Sydney (h/t @RDrbz)

53. Pete Evans. He made his career becoming Someone in Sydney, who managed to get noticed by Sydney TV producers, mainly because he is a freakily white person who glares at people in a Bondi kind of way. A grifter that could have only ever been Made Famous in Sydney.

54. The NRL. Only could their Sydney based, testosterone driven brains could come up with two barking mad ideas - forming a committee called "Project Apollo" and then announcing a May opening of the NRL without consulting anyone. They are living some kind of Bond fantasy.

55. Sharri Markson. Sydney made her father famous for grifting of the highest order. His daughter has, as a result, an inflated self belief well beyond her ability - one fostered by the worst papers in the city. She now believes she can bring down a Premier.

56. David Elliott. There's few NSW politicians as bad. From one of Sydney's most toxic areas, Baulkham Hills, and he has proven to be a perfect rep from there. Imitates cops, fires illegal weapons, went on holidays during the fires. Invisible during COVID-19. Still not fired.

57. Ruby Princess. It was inevitable that Sydney was going to be the hotspot in COVID-19, just look at the way NSW officials dealt with this one. Bumbling official to bumbling official, now all pointing fingers. This debacle showed off Sydney incompetence in all its facets.

58. Social Distancing Laws. Sydney people's blasé attitude to pretty much everything - especially those in wealthy areas - meant that the cops had to put in penalties and laws to send the message. The famous Bondi crowd photo will be on the front cover of a book one day.

59. Golf Courses. If you want to encounter some of Sydney’s worst people, put on the stupid pants and hit a ball around prime Sydney parkland. The courses are filled either with rich people or aspirational people who want to think they are.

60. Recreational Ocean Fishing. Particularly popular with Sydney polo shirt wearing corporate men handling their penis extensions so they can show off their prowess at killing fish while drinking Coronas. Leave fishing to the professionals.

61. The line “I have a boat”. Yes, we know that you are, in classic Sydney humblebrag fashion, telling us that you have a house near Sydney Harbour or have a yacht moored somewhere in it. The problem is - Sydney people don’t scoff at these tossbags.

62. They aren’t scallops.

63. The Sydney Harbour Bridge. Sure, it works as a bridge at getting people over the water, to an extent, except that two tunnels have had to be built since. But it’s not that unique or amazing.

64. Town Hall Station. One of the more dangerous and poorly designed stations of any - finding a space around its weirdly shaped platforms to stand in peak hour is one of Sydney’s worst experiences.

65. Sydney’s Buses. Crowded, uncomfortable, unreliable things that travel at a crawl. And if you live outside the old State Transit Authority areas and where private companies designed the routes, forget about convenience and utility.

66. Barangaroo. Sydney’s Dubai / Singapore - stark, ugly, character sucking erections shooting into the sky. And below, sleek restaurants serving meals to the upper middle class next to water where the working class used to toil to keep the economy going. A neat metaphor.

67. Paul Keating. The story of a man from a working class background who ascended into the ruling class and ended up living where the elites count their antiques. It wasn’t a surprise he was so enthusiastic about Barangaroo. I am always happy to “camp out”, Paul.

68. John Howard. One of Sydney’s more malicious, mendacious creations. Seems harmless and ordinary, but dedicated a lifetime trying to rip apart the working class and their advocates, the unions. His legacy of appearing benign while being searingly racist is still felt today.

69. John Ibrahim. Remarkable that an unremarkable Merrylands boy could rise to being so lauded by Sydney people wanting to Be Him. Like all gangsters and Kings Cross in general, he is as bland as 1980s wallpaper.