Frang it!

Superb worst from Ljuke. Ljuke says…

Backstory: I have been using the Oats Street train station every week day for about three years now and I can’t remember a time in which this used franger wasn’t sitting in the sand just outside. Recently it disappeared and I felt a little sad, thinking that some council worker must have finally removed it after it’s three year tenure. Then, after about a week, it reappeared, seemingly scraped from under the sand by the tyres of a parking car. So there it is, in all it’s glory. A true story of survival against the odds. It should also be noted that this is not the only condom I’ve seen adorning the Oats Street station. Perhaps some commuters just get too anxious waiting for their trains. Or (as I like to think), maybe some people are just flat out turned on by public transport.

Fantastic Ljuke. is that an ultrasmall in the background too?

About The Lazy Aussie

Commended Haiku writer. A lover of The West's Worst. Perth stand-up comedian, photographer and writer.
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12 Responses to Frang it!

  1. Frank Calabrese says:

    I’m surprised you weren’t stopped and questioned by the tactful (not) Transit Guards for taking happy snaps on railway property.


  2. Snuff says:

    It’s the sign ! Clearly the bearded guy in the sky is trying to tell the Catholics something. Let’s connect the dots.

    JC chucks in his chippy job … (I’d love to have seen some of his furniture) … then wanders about in the desert (sand) for 3 years. Check.

    Having lived and died by the nail, he then disappears into some underground lair for about a week. Check.

    He then magically reappears. Check.

    (Screen goes all wobbly denoting the passage of time)

    Having second thoughts upon being pummelled by the impeccable all-dancing, all-singing logic of this >

    … and following the repeal of the anti-annoyance law, the bearded guy in the sky decides to send an unambiguous message to the Pope upon his visit downunder. Checkmate.

    In the unlikely event that I’m wrong, they could just rename it Wild Oats Street station.


  3. CK says:

    I like to think of it as the romance of rail.


  4. BrownBook says:

    “Checkmate” – nice work snuff


  5. Snuff says:

    Ribbed, for your pleasure, BrownBook.


  6. David Cohen says:

    Time for a TWOP haiku:

    The car park condom
    Trembled as the train rushed.
    Rubber perishing


  7. David Cohen says:

    And another one:

    Train comes too early
    When he forgets to tag off
    Weeds before wild oats.


  8. Big Ramifications says:

    Perhaps some commuters just get too anxious waiting for their trains.

    Anxious? Makes one wanna screw in public? How about “bored”?


    As a vaguely related side… moons ago, as my flatmate was exiting a car park just near there, he mumbled “what the?” stopped, quickly hopped out, and hurled a squashed, tyre damaged, carpark grit infused 12 inch blow up dildo with valves and tubes type thing at my head. Charming stuff.

    It was like finding a washed up giant squid of the sex toy world. Never seen anything like it.

    [but would rather have part of a squid thrown at me, I would imagine – f*cking dirty bastard pegged me with a discarded dildo]


  9. Ljuke says:

    A friend of mine once went to the fridge one morning, only to step in a used-ie left there the previous night by his housemate.


  10. forkboy1971 says:

    Sow you Oats on Oat St…………………..nice one.


  11. Tony T says:

    That’s it then; I’m off calamari.


  12. Groucho says:

    3 years ago it was a long fucking time between trains……..


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