signs of the times

It’s raining men at this Irish pub in the city: are they of the finely ‘boned Johnny Depp variety, I wonder? ronggly did not say. And down in Freo Pete F. sent this roadside abomination. He fretted his rage was a symptom he was becoming Zoltan Kovacs: I took exemption to that, as there is only one ZK.

PS: This blog is awesome.

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18 Responses to signs of the times

  1. orbea says:

    exempted – to free from an obligation – No Standing – guzzis excepted cos they’re shit


  2. Rolly says:

    No standing, except motorcycles.
    So, when you put your bike on the stand, you have to walk away immediately?
    Or just hop up and down while you get the circulation back into your legs, or………….


  3. NF#1 says:

    T-bone & chips ad hardly consistent with idea of a new menu at DN’s, but if it ain’t broke … cheapest Guinness in town too.


    • orbea says:

      Look – the ‘U” is nearly erased.


      • NF#1 says:

        Ouch! Seeing the DN’s sign, I guess I was overcome by thoughts of Guinness and steak.


        • orbea says:

          Look – the sign is chipped.
          This drives a whole raft of questions – the involvement of the photographer, a follower and acolyte of Kevin Carter, does she do her job and take photos, or does she intervene in the design tragedy that is Murray St?
          One sign saved amongst the horror of faux post-industrialist celtic reimagination that is relentlessly Disneyfying the west end of Perth.

          Implicitly immanent, the phallic subjugation of Nelly – Dirty unclean and sordid Nelly, woman of loose morals, cheap because of her uncleanliness she becomes an object of desire and self-loathing by the observer/punter/trick/John.

          Diminutive of Eleanor or Helen, the social activist First lady to Roosevelt, or the face that launched a thousand chips, Nelly is diminished, set upon a drudge, a maid and slut and a slattern.

          Yet Nelly is also a label ascribed to male homosexuals, the ‘John’ is now transgressing into self-love and self-loathing at the same time, the t-bone takes on another dimension for the toilets are used for casual meets between same-sex attracted men. The orally fixated smokers with their ostentatious phallic oral displays surround the entrance to the tavern, scoping for trade, their next trick.

          This is accepted by all who frequent this hotbed of masculine satisfaction and macho posturing. Guinness with its dark stout body and white frothy creamy head are signifiers of rampant gay orgys that suffuse the core of this establishment.


  4. rottobloggo says:

    Yesterday’s Ferrall outrage updated thanks to Lil’ Sis’:


  5. The Legend 101 says:

    Stupid Parking Lot and that pub is suss.


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