I applaud your ambition, Greg.
While so many of your peers think they have made it in the big time when they finally land that dream job behind the bar in England, your uncommon ( for a Aussie ) ambition is shining through.
Although offering the soap is a good start in your training to be my butler, I feel it's only fair to warn you that there is much, much more to the role than that, menial work though it appears to us poms.
For a start, I must be able to rely on my bread remaining unstolen when I leave the house with you in it. You attire:
though standard tailoring for our chattels in the colonies, simply will not suffice in the role you desire. You must at least wear a tie, preferably accompanied by shoes. You may have to save for a while for these essential accoutrements for the role.
I must also insist that, if you pass the interview stage, you refrain from sleeping with your sister for the period of your employment. I find it distasteful, and before you ask - you may not replace her with a sheep for your nocturnal recreations. It's simply unhygenic, I'm sorry, but that's the way it is.
Speaking of the interview, I appreciate how your Australian minds struggle with the language, and hence endevour to reduce words and phrases to single or double syllables ( "barbie", "arvo", "Bundie", "chook" etc ), but I must expect you to understand a few key phrases such as "fetch me my slippers" and "get your hands off my silver cutlery, you thieving bounder, or I'll thrash your hide".
Having said this, if you still truly believe you can handle the role and not let me down by eating the local wildlife in public I look forward to your application.
In pen, at least. I won't accept the usual crayon-scrawled missive.
Toodle-pip and hugs'n'kisses,
Johnnybobs.