With this submission, I thought I’d lay out the process of getting a The Worst of Perth post up and running 6 or 7 days a week. It’s not all just stone boozies and Howling Wolves you know.
03:02 am. Text. Images arrive from Outrage Cohen. First impressions. Ah fuck. Type draft. Cut and paste. Ah fuck. OK. so… Try…
Here’s the home of Domaine Chandon Australia, where Green Point sparkling and Green Point still wines are produced. (Contrast with vommy in female bog. Raise question of whether vomiting caused by misuse of apostrophe. NOTE! Photo essay format may be may be wasted on metrocentric, cork soaking, beaver damming, low riding, TWOP connesewers (spell check indicates problem with connesweres. Don’t bother to corect). Check if Paul Murray angle. Remove litre of voka from freezer. Wave Noilly pratt bottle over martini glass with double shot. Add olive. drink. repeat. repeat. Revise entire approach. OK, here we go…
And the result? Voila! The smooth insouciant wry TWOP post you love so well.
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David Fucking Outrage Cohen recently travelled to (I think Dubai) for the 2008 Walkley Awards, in support of the Paul Murray bid for Bum Number of the year. After the ceremony Outrage travelled to Victorian wineries, where he devastatingly contrasted awesome scenery with vomit.
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Yeah. Close enough. get up early with headache and editi text before The Worst of Perth start reading. And cut and print.
The Worst of Perth 
questions:
1. what was DFOC doing in the ladies loo?
2. was the force of the vomit so great that it cracked the basin?
3. the vom is clearly a product of drinking red wine – was it perhaps a delayed reaction to the Howling Wolves, which would be poetic justice.
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Skink, as I recall from DFOC’s original post, it was Mrs FOC who took the pic. The “crack” in the basin is probably a strand of hair. Hard to tell without a whiff of the bouquet, but I’d say the vomit was a heady mix of cab sav with a creamy camembert and a hint of water cracker. No doubt a lingering finish.
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Hold on there a moment.
This is in Victoria.
Not Perth, WA.
Therefore not a Perth worst.
Or is it alluding to DFOC and bride being possibly included in that category?
Anyone who disturbs me in the middle of my nocturnal slumbers would certainly get the gong from me (and possibly a visitation by the local gendarmerie).
The spelling, by the way is “O’ConnorSewers”.
(Anyone remember the shit that he used to spout?)
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Thanks for the detailed insight into the creative process LA, but I like my great art to be seamless.
I like the ‘worst roadshow’ aspect though. If we say it’s a pungent jus of cab sav and taramasalata, we could link this to the octopus/crabs/sambucca nexis.
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Neither was Moora. I think Mrs Outrage was vomiting with shock from Murray not getting Walkley.
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really Lisa? You always struck me as wanting to see the means of production and metatexts.
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how did the hair get in there?
surely when a lady throws up there is a best mate/significant other standing behind her holding back her hair.
I thought that was why they always went to the loo in pairs
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Skink,
Perhaps the lady’s hair was held back with such commitment that some of it shuffled loose.
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I can’t discount the rumour I was holding back Mrs FOC’s shapely blonde locks.
Everything about her has balance and overall quality.
You can buy Chandon sparkly here, I was born in Subiaco, and we all dream of going to Frass Canyon, so this is TWOP-worthy.
Anyone who dares insinuate otherwise has been nudging the Rolly Pratt too hard.
No journalism ethics were hurt in the production of this post.
I am drafting my Walkley speech for this year.
I thank you.
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Uncanny DC, only yesterday I was recalling my visit to Domain Chandon (DC) to the chaps and lasses at my place of employ. Now you have sullied my memory with this cheap, tawdry basin full of bile. What next – skid marks in the bowl? Fucking outrageous!
I actually have it on good authority that you were seen hanging around the octopus meze plate with a water pipe concealed under your jacket…
You know you can’t handle your plonk after toking on the tentacle. Any splashes on the tie perchance?
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LA – If I wanted to read someone moaning about how difficult and unappreciated their job is, whilst insulting the intelligence of their readers, I know where to find Mr. Nurry’s column.
Did the vomiter possibly eat the hair first, thereby explaining its presence in said vom?
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How dare you, Cookster. What a simply outrageous slur on my good character and impeccable reputation: I do not wear ties while on holiday.
You may well be receiving one of those delightful five-page letters that mention the D-word and call for a grovelling, humiliating apology (unless you run starkers down Rokeby Road) from my lawyer (who may or may not be Patti or Sunili).
Some union “mates” may also be paying you a “visit” to have a chat and educate you in the ways of righteousness.
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You go down this unfortunate path DC and I will simply have to dose you – and you WILL know you’ve been dosed.
Have you ever smoked seahorses my friend? Very, very serious stuff indeed.
By the way, are you eating that sausage?
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Okay, now we need a new category – howzabout, most disgusting, Worst. Well Done.
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We did have a video of hosing turds off the street from Cookster.
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Goodness: a post yesterday on Lovers and Lobbers showing spew on a nightclub chair…you’re getting competition TLA…
http://loversandlobbers.blogspot.com/2009/04/fake-blood-and-sinden.html
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