Trolley borne Captain Ahab, Margaret River. By Benji.
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Thats a bit stupid and he put a price tag on himself what the hell.
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Holy crap where you trolling all along its a bit difficult to tell if you are but sometimes its not.
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The quote The Simpsons, “Call me Ishmail dummy.”
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never heard that quote.
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It’s from this episode: http://www.tv.com/the-simpsons/insane-clown-poppy/episode/3806/summary.html
My spelling is crap though. I’d spelled it wrong.
Bart: “Call me Ishmael, dummy.”
The first line of Herman Melville’s novel Moby Dick is, “Call me Ishmael.” Bart finds a version called Moby Dick For Dummies with the line appropriately altered.
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how about this one
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If his boardies had been cannon, he would have fired his fashion sense upon it…
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apparently Tim Winton’s facebook page has a trailer of Cloudstreet, which will be shown on Rupert’s network on May22.
apparently
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whats ruperts netword it is on Foxtel?
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yes, it is on foxtel.
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I’m trying to read Moby Dick at the moment. Thanks for the spoiler TLA.
I’m finding it to be a thoroughly unpleasant read, so far (about 1/4 of the way in). Should I persevere?
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It’s an odd mix of a book. There’s swathes of sort of documetary on whales, which should be cut severely. the core story is fantastic, but this only takes up about half the book.
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persevere at least til you get to the short-clad chap in margaret river i think. it might make this picture more explicable.
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Nah, the movie was better.
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Off topic. This is just sad and desperate:
http://au.news.yahoo.com/thewest/a/-/wa/9003293/beach-that-rocks-the-rest/
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Isn’t it just.
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“… if you allow some high-rise and a few small bars, you will allow more people to live there at a more affordable price and attract a younger demographic.”
Thanks for the warning, Mark, but we learnt that at school.
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And in case youse miss the Twitter
Mark McGowan may have lead poisoning – Doctor. Insane beliefs that he could be Premier and that Rockingham is not a shithole were delusions…
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in his defense, the beaches south of point peron are actually better than cottesloe beach.
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and have more lead, thanks magellan!
cunts
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Sex and the Sea
http://serendip.brynmawr.edu/sci_cult/evolit/s04/web3/d1scarpa.html
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Like “Free Willy” – with every matelot.
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Rob Broadfield – Indiana Tearooms 6/20
BRING ON GLOBAL WARMING. The seas will rise and Indiana at Cottesloe will become a jetty. As a jetty it will deliver a superior community service than it does as a restaurant. With the added advantage that old men will be able to fish for herring from the top floor.
No single word adequately expresses the awfulness of the food at this prominent ocean-side restaurant. Regurgitant comes close.
The staff are nice though, which hasn’t always been the case. I’ve been three times recently. The first time we were simply forgotten. After half an hour of invisibleness, we got up and walked over the road to Il Lido.
The second time, the food was the criminal.
The third time was to check that the horribleness of the food wasn’t an anomaly. It wasn’t. In fact the entire meal was punctuated with mouth-open-in-disbelief, shoulder-shrugging, can-you-believe-this-food looks between us. The meal could best be summed up as repulsion bordering on bewilderment.
The views are spellbinding. On the occasion of this review it was one of those hot, hot summer afternoons — no sea breeze, just wafting, oven-temperature easterlies: a perfect Rotto day. The beach was full of the leisure classes flopping in and out of a languid surf.
Inside the restaurant, a long table of elderly tourists was cheerfully ordering from the extensive menu and knocking back their drinks with such abandon, one could only be awestruck by their robust renal health.
Then it was our turn.
The best thing about the $22 fig, bresaola, Persian feta and frisee salad were the voluptuous, over-ripe figs. The sliced bresaola was ice-cold from the fridge, which ensured it was virtually flavourless, and it was cut too thick. The frisee was one floret of undressed leaf tossed on the side of the plate. The vincotto was more a skid mark than a useable condiment.
Pan-fried sardines, caponata, ciabatta, lemon and capers, $18, was a masterclass in overcooked fish. The deliciously oily fillets had been ruined. They were stiff and dry. The caponata was so ice-cold it set the teeth chattering. What’s wrong with taking a small amount of prepped food out of the cool room before service so that it comes up to room temperature? Were they expecting no customers? (Don’t answer that!) The bread was nice.
When the wine arrived — a West Cape Howe sauvignon blanc — it was warm. The helpful waiter explained that they were having “problems with the fridge”. Oh puh-leeze! Between the bar and the kitchen, restaurants have more fridges than you can poke a stick at. Had someone just forgotten to do their daily stock check and fill the fridge? Who knows. We were cheerily informed that if we waited five minutes the ice bucket would chill it down. We waited 10. It was still warm (the ambient temperature was 36C on the day). Not pleasant.
Then it got bad.
Pistachio-crusted lamb, couscous, cherry labneh, $40, was a new low in culinary bizarreness. Labneh is a Middle Eastern version of cheese. It’s yoghurt, strained of its whey so that it becomes thick and cheesy. It’s very nice. Its combination with mashed cherries was an alchemist’s nightmare: a lurid pink paste which was head-scratchingly obtuse. Why? Who could possibly have thought this would work? More to the point, what could it possibly add to roast lamb? Perhaps they’re doing acid in the kitchen?
The lamb was overcooked, dark grey and rubbery. With a hole drilled through the middle to take a halfinch bolt, the thick slices of loin meat would have made perfect engine mounts.
Then it got really bad.
The couscous was truly foul. It had been put in a dariole mould and then inverted on to the plate. If you remember your Year 12 geology, you know that sand, when compressed over many millennia, becomes sedimentary rock, like sandstone. A not dissimilar transformation had taken place with the couscous. It was so rock hard, I thought the chef had caringly put something solid in the middle as a surprise, like a bone or something. He didn’t. It was simply sedimentary couscous. I think the dariole mould had been filled, compressed, left in the cool room for an aeon, then placed in the oven to re-heat (not a standard technique, I can assure you): it’s the only explanation for the dried, rock-solid, flavourless lump before me.
I have never before gurned with such elastic-faced flamboyance as I did over that couscous.
The pork rack, $38, was burnt black. The kitchen had thoughtfully sought to conceal this by placing the burnt chop at the bottom of the dish with the unburnt side facing up. Nasty.
Enough.
We popped over to Il Lido for an ice-cold drink and five minutes of companionable silence as we worked through our post-traumatic stress.
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Thoroughly well-deserved, I understand.
Thanks Orbea.
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Whoa, that’s like every bit of bad service and crap over priced food I’ve ever been subjected to in Perth eateries all in one sitting and all in one place. They deserve a gold star just for that bit of audacity.
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The hidden burnt chop was a nice touch.
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You got to laugh when the food is too cold, and the wine is too warm.
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Speaking of Perth culinary worsts: xxxxxxxxxx. Not my thing and never had one, so more for the concept rather than the food as such.
I don’t know what that is so I’m xxxxxing it.
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Woah… ignorance leading to censorship? What’s going on, TLA?
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Thought you might do that. It’s both a chain of fast-food vendors and the name of the product they serve. Unique to Perth. I thought I’d get away with saying their concept sucks.
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“I have never before gurned with such elastic-faced flamboyance as I did over that couscous.”
qualified for the job I reckon, any one need some flamboyant gurning?
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Thanks for that Orbea. If what he says is true, then they thoroughly deserve the roasting. Pun intended.
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I think that review may actually bring in some customers, people who are curious to experience just how bad a restaurant can get. Sort of like the culinary equivilant of seeing Tommy Wiseau’s “The Room”, where you can throw spoons at the chef.
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the gurney wasn’t worth it.
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But which gurning?
(From Urban dictionary)
1.gurning
The muscle tension in the face that usually ends up with the jaw and tongue rolling and teeth grinding as a result of amphetamines.
3.gurning
symptoms: sometimes tight jaw syndrome and the abilty to waffle bollox.
4. gurning
To suck in your pee before it comes out.
5.gurning
to complain in a whiney manner
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1, 3 and 5 definitely.
don’t even want to think about 4.
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They are talking using muscles to hold back, aren’t they vegan?
What were you (not) thinking?
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broadfield peeing. it’s a slippery slope…
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I don’t know vegan, 4 seems to fit in the context.
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It’s actually a wired “silly” performance of distorting the face for amusement.
Urban dictionary “FAIL”
gurn |gəːn|
verb [ intrans. ] chiefly Brit.
make a grotesque face : [as n. ] ( gurning) gurning is one of the fair’s most popular competitions.
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Some nice examples:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/3670504.stm
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And this woman has reproduced. They must have some fantastically good local ales…
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/8105297/Woman-gains-gurning-title.html
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I wonder if Broadfield carries a horse collar with him, on the off-chance that it may be needed to fully express his trenchant commentary?
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horse collar?
no
bib?
def a bib
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I can’t help but call him Broadarse, given his gourmand tendencies.
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