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Flowers
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I think it’s quite beautiful. Almost Art. Definitely not worst.
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Not worst.
That is a thing of beauty.
And the solar hot water system I think I can spy is a nice touch.
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Either a solar hot water system or a dunny-can hurled onto the roof.
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Now that is a registered lawn. Magnificent, WAtching.
p.s. Ohisashiburi, Grrr.
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Lovely shot WAtching.
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Very Wintonesque, non?
Worst.
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Solar powered dreams
Constructed of found objects
Will yield to sand dunes.
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It’s amazing to think there are things like this in our suburbs. This place is right next to the Freeway in Gwellup.
Hard to imagine it ever contained Flowers.
Not Worst.
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I suspect it mainly contains dead dogs and discarded underwear.
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Discarded underwear?
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Fishy knickers?
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No, wait. Could it be Troy and Adele’s love shack?
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Sniffing flowers eh?
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Sniffing flowers up the ooshta.
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Well, the tin roof is rusted.
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I think that the roses here smell like poo-oo-ooo.
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But the sign says Flowers, not “Stay away fools”?
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oops. Erroneous question mark :-(
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Exquisite, WAtching. Worst in its decay, but with sufficient pathos, so Not Worst in strictest sense.
This shot could’ve been used as an <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jjFJuR2Q5NM&feature=related"ABC Colour ident slide from the 70s (for those who weren’t old enough to remember, the way to fill gaps in programming were station clocks, test pattern and slides with music).
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Try again, shall we…
This shot could’ve been used as an ABC Colour ident slide from the 70s (for those who weren’t old enough to remember, the way to fill gaps in programming were station clocks, test pattern and slides with music
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quite lovely waaa-kching.
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aww… shucks.
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Been looking at too may photo sites lately and decided to go sans commentary today. Maybe a wordless worst week called for.
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Is this some new permutation of your epithetical laziness, TLA?
I could swear I bought flowers at this place a number of times, certainly within the last ten years and perhaps within the last five.
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Just beautiful.
I think I’m going to cry.
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You people disgust me.
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That is a very evocative picture in itself, beautifully framed.
But even more so because it is the old “Tony’s For Flowers” at the end of my road. The old boy sold home grown flowers and vegetables for decades.
He has now passed and the structure must remain as (I was told) it is listed.
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i think it is on the local authority’s heritage list.
it’s exactly the sort of thing that should be retained, it is not only charming, it talks about a way of life largely gone.
and now i might go cry with g’day.
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I had no idea this place was so well known. The house next door is listed- but is the shed?
May the “Flowers” be everlasting(s).
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we know all the best places here.
if you give me the address i can check the listing for you.
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That dump can’t be listed surely?
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“Dump.” Thank you. It looks like it would come down in the first stiff breeze.
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Well, it didn’t in the last one, nor the one before that, nor even……………..
What was it that I was saying about ‘the success if style over substance”?
Poncing metrosexual poser.
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Where the fuck did I put my latte?
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Oh! I though that was egg on your face.
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It’s LANCOME ghod don’t you know anything
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Precisely JJ. Precisely.
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Oh! So reminiscent of simpler times, when what you were and did was more important than what you look like and the poses you assume.
I love it . Just love it. Not worst at all.
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Phwoar, too right mate, too bloody right
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You’ve all developed full-blown cases of Rampant Wintonobia I tell you. It’s like some horrible mutant rampaging virus.
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Yeh!
Maybe.
Some of us, however have un-gen Y-like memories that retain thoughts and information longer than the proverbial goldfish.
Winton can go boil his nostalgia-profiteering head.
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Wetly untroubled
By thoughts of never-when, oh
To be a dugong
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The dugongs are fucked.
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Well, how the hell else are they to keep up the dugong population?
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Employ Troy Buswell?
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He’s passed on, but his water remains hot. Humanity.
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Flowers , the traditional family home of Sir Binkie Huckerstepp, This neo colonial mansionette can be yours for a reasonable price. Three beds and a hot water system suits the do it yourselfer. Air con all year round.May be on the heritage list but a quick fire will get yer around that. Get in and be the first : the West Australian real estate industry never lets you down.
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nothing like a good old heritage fire for getting around statutory restrictions.
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I remember cycling past this place as a kid, it had a sign out the front that said “fresh ones inside” which never failed to amuse my immature sense of humour..
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One the one hand I am pleased that a post with no commentary is popular since it means less work, but on the other hand it is a savage indictement of my previous I thought well crafted hepcat phrasing.
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A certain Catherine Deveny found herself in much the same position re. the “Age”.
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Don’t go getting any ideas, TLA. When
some prick like Richard Carletonan interviewer suggested to him, on the basis of some dodgy photo, that a picture was worth a thousand words, it was the silver budgie himself whom immediately replied, “That depends on the thousand words.” Only on this auspiciously not worst occasion I’d suggest, are so few required.LikeLike
Wasn’t that “Silver Bodgie”, Snuff.
The “budgie” bit is in the other photo.
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You’re quite correct of course, Rolly. I really should leave the puns to the experts.
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We’ll be watching you like a Hawke.
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Well was he hung like a cashew or a budgie?
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This place is the living spirit of Solarution
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This isn’t worst because it still exists. Framed on tea-toned paper, it’s worst; definitely worst in glazed ceramic or worster yet, it could be represented in oils the colour and consistency of possum shit (in a brazen, laconic interplay of broad strokes and careless, painterly markings). But as it stands today, not worst. So the question is, in fifty years, will your library-archived jpg be worst or not?
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I’m assuming the State Library on behalf of Nat library will continue to update their archiving to suit all future formats and that their older stuff will be accessible with the new pornograph machines yet to be developed.
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I was more thinking a beaten copper wall-hanging, or fake gold leaf applied to a roughly edged but polished piece of jarrah.
Interesting how a photo of an elegiacally dilapidated tin shack brings out the wistful, Wintonesque nostalgia seemingly lurking in all of us.
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A-a-a-h-h-h yes, but really, nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.
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Yes, beaten copper. Instinctively, I know you’re right- and yet it’s difficult to remember if my youthful brain has ever known such wall-hangings to exist. And yet they must.
Perhaps it could be gold-leafed onto a cross-cut jarrah clock?
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One word, JJ.
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Say no more.
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*squints*
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Brace yourself, JJ.
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Or even this
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link fail
http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Richard_Court&diff=237071534&oldid=209390310
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wow that’s amazing. guaranteed public domain image there :)
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