Having a gold Torana in itself isn’t enough to get you into the worst car category. In fact the last one was voted not worst if I remember. What you need to do is to give it some testicles, and then glue feathers to the vehicular nutsack. I hope I never catch myself in the act of gluing feathers onto car testicles. Could fall into world’s worst jobs category. Might inspire some Haiku though. This was the apparition that greeted JustDazzling in Bassendean recently. There was some kind of bumpkin style hat too. And yes the sticker does say “Tongue my doogs”. Tongue my feathered doogs I assume. Just be grateful it doesn’t say “I shit on feathered nurries.” 
Worst Talk
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The Asia Beat- Museum of Winds Opens
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- Singapore admits, “National Service all about shooting Malaysians.”
- Asian firm sparks “wife beater” brawl.
- Actors protest over MH370 delay
The Worst of Perth 
Note the rego, for the knuckledraggers who have trouble trying to tell the difference between an LX (1976-78) (like the Not Worst gold Torana at Floreat) and LH (1974-76). Sorta like the infamous cuntkini, useful label.
A few automotive worsts lurk in my existence: my folks had a mid-green base model ’75 LH, which by 1984 was a total rust bucket, also partially eaten by my sister (dash, visors and a red-hot go at the seats!). An unmitigated nail. In runner-up for crapulence, my old man also had an ex-Australia Post Transit van in regulation red. Thirsty, clunky and slow, he wished he’d hung onto the Bedford he had just prior to that.
My first vehicle was a 1978 Ford Escort van, with a rorty 2 litre motor (and a number plate to match) with oversteer on speed-dial in a lairy shade of yellow, mottled with grey undercoat. At school, the sobriquet of PFT (Pygmy Fuck Truck) stuck and I learnt how to replace clutch cables every six months and rebuild the easily out-of-tune standard Weber carburettor. Rough and raw, yet made yer grin (when it worked!) and the gearshift action is amongst the best I’ve ever used (as good as my Mazda3).
But for all its faults, at least it wasn’t a total exercise in mendacious mediocracy like the ’86 Corona I was gifted when I was experiencing hard times, to replace the similarly drearily coloured (powder blue), but tired, Dunnydore and in spite of being a little newer, it was even less reliable and thirstier, with the lacklustre 2S-C/3sp auto combo. Confirmed my dislike of Toyotas, as being whitegoods on wheels. And if these were whitegoods, they’d be Fisher & Paykel. Crap.
So well spotted on worst for the Torrie, no doubt a hydrocarbon-sucking V8 beast, noting the twin tailpipes. Bogan hero car in excelsis. And the sticker and the feathered nads are just so classy! Reminds my of the hayseed Roller seen around the traps: I wonder if Mick Fleetwood (as per “Rumours” LP cover) is motoring incognito in Perth?http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/f/fb/FMacRumours.PNG
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I can’t resist: tl;dr
Although I did in fact read your entire post Turnip. Perhaps we should direct your undoubted writerly talents towards some Wintoning, or some haiku at the very least. Might give Pfort (ala Maddy) a run for his money….
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Aaaargh: I’ve lapsed back into exactly the kind of pissy posting I swore off two weeks ago…
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“Old habits die hard”.
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bitch
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Just a budget version of this i guess.
I wonder if they are friends.
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Mick Fleetwood driving
Incognito around Perth
True to the Rumours
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Bogan Torana
Swing low V8 chariot
Smokin’ my load home
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Also I might add I did indeed see two—count ’em—Absinthe Yellow LX Toranas on the Mitchell Fwy this afternoon. Scary.
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Golden Torana speaks
Incontinence threshold, so
Tongue my lovely doogs
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Torana shows us
his furry pair of swingers
you can kiss my Chongs
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If we have to resort to Chong haikus the terrorists have already won.
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I thought they had won
or is the war in Afghanistan over and nobody told me?
there is no situation that cannot be made just a little bit more dismal with a Chong haiku
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I’d have voted “worstalicious” if there were flames coming off the testicles.
BTW – enjoying April on my worst cars calendar, but wish March (best flames ever) was a longer month.
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A feathered scrotum
Eponymous number plates
It’s not a Sunbird
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“Having a vibrant Downtown is one of the perks of living in Bassendean.”
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“Unfortunately, quite lot of businesses closed in Old Perth Road this year and I was beginning to fear we would be left with the Library, the Bank and some boarded up shops”
not so vibrant then
the photo of the wheelchair in the rubble is a favourite
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fuck it, I’m going to write haikus through his comments
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a couple of things wrong with this photo; neither tail light is broken, no ding in the bumper just above the towball where Dennis was trying to hitch up the trailer full of broken paving slabs at midnight so he could dump them on the road ouside Red Hill tip, the boot lock hasn’t been tampered with, nobody has switched the letters around to spell ROTARNA or AN RAT, both tyres have tread, there is one passenger not six.
Obviously a Torana proud owner who thought putting testies on his car was funny.
Not funny
Worst
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Holden versus Ford:
It’s a retro-bogan thing.
Youse can all get fucked.
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totally agree
not near enough Cortinas
in The Worst Of Perth
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If you can find me
a Centura without rust
I would be most pleased
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my friend had a car,
hillman hunter, he drove it
like andrew cowan
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surely the sigma
has status of endangered
in vibrant boomtown?
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the cordia turbo
was once regarded as “hot”
yet so few remain
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wheels car of the year
the next salvation of Oz
holden camira
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a light runabout
o you and I – gemini
fucking pile of shit
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Still drive the Torrie
and truck nutz remind me of
the vasectomy
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Driven, raced and crashed
A Torana A9X
Peter Cunt Brock
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P76
An avant-garde idea
Poor execution
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Austin Marina
Tried to be Torana, ’twas
British Leyland shit
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Most Holden Sunbirds
Once had Misfire four-pot
Now swapped for sixes
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Povvo panel van
Escort be thy name carted
Granddad to the tip
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Current Mazda 3
Is the Phantom Purple Beast
Grins with smiley face
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Motorik haiuku
Wow us with detailed knowledge
Sure that’s not your car?
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Escort Commodore
Corona M-B Diesel
My first four motors
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Oh Pygmy Fuck Truck
First car yellow rough as guts
Vale Escort van
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VH Commodore
Wagon painted powder blue
Like Reg Mombassa’s
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Underwhelming me
Auto tranny bit the dust
Piss off Corona
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Sipping diesel fuel
Unbreakable 300D
Mercedes’ finest
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Oops. one too many extra syllables, got carried away. Let’s try again:
Sipping diesel fuel
Tough as boots 300D
Mercedes’ finest
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Numbers five and six
Ford Telstar and Mazda 3
Japanese marvels
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Curvy green Telstar
626 with Ford badges
COTY ’92
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Mazda 3 haiku meant to be here. Now a few posts back. Oopsies again.
Haiku served to chart
My vehicular history
Some grand, some dungers
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Lordy Turnips, you’re a machine – thirteen haiku in just over forty minutes. Insomnia?
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Nah, had to have some mild distraction after doing my study (I go to uni, to ECU, a target of yesterday’s PROSH, natch. It may not have the institutional cachet UWA does, but once I graduate, they wouldn’t wanna mess me ’round, especially if I’m involved in their rehabilitation after an untimely accident incurred during a toga party piss-up…I could make it sooo much more painful for them!)
So it was good to run off some haiku to wind down. Better than smoking some Chongs or snorting pure Perthian ooshta dust, but possibly more addictive: if I had more vehicles, like those who change cars on an annual basis, I’d have possibly written one for each. Hell, even the numerous vehicular travesties (and legends) could form a veritable book of haiku in itself! Don’t tempt me!
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While out gathering my own content at Parliament House this morning an, er, associate introduced me to TWOPper Midlandia.
Even while out of the office this online beast cannot be escaped.
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That I did! The associate told me I should ‘come and meet Outrage.’ I wasn’t ballsy enough to actually call him that to his face, though.
That said, in real life, Teh Rage is very friendly, and also very tall!
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Was he wearing shoes Midlandia?
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Of course not.
He was dressed as Buff Jesus… all beefed up and tweeting haiku…
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Ragged scrotal down
Feather-flocked pendulum swings
Dust-blasted and vile
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Lascivious lips
Yearning for salt, sweat, romance
Caress with my tongue
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who let the doogs out?
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