And so finally I get my hands on the keys to the editorial Scorpion. This week promises to bring at least 60% more sneering; however, as is customary during TLA’s absences, the sneering will be interspersed with ridicule of the more vulnerable casualties of society. It is likely there will be very little content not sourced from The Arrondissement or The Post’s distribution area.
And so, inevitably, we turn to Maylands, where only yesterday the Director of Liquor Licensing declared that the existing oversupply of drunks was reason enough to refuse a new liquor store. Mercifully, MadKuntz was approved before the Director noticed the rivers of piss flowing down 8th Ave.
It’s possible this is also the Home of the Toilet Bowl Planter.
Cocos Palm and Thong Tree. This should be the Governor’s Residence.
But there’s nothing wrong with some harmlessly eccentric found art in the front yard. Or disembodied heads. Is it too soon for more Milat jokes?
I think it is generally agreed I am no palm-spotter. I’m calling not-Cocos, and not-Cotton. What’s left? Regardless of species, I think the entire genus is inarguably improved by the addition of 1000 teapots.
Ahh, the Pies. It is all becoming clearer now. Where’s Mr 276 when you need him?
Magpie Hill’s the name o’ the place, right across the road from “Primal Therapy”. Thought about worsting the teapot palm before, especially when festooned with pro- republican propaganda (i.e. “tinpot dictatorship”). Overall not-worst in my book, but nevertheless an admirable start.
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I’m with you NF#1, there’s a certain quirky charm (think public art rabbits) going on here. But still well worth a mention on TWoP. NIce work Bento.
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Dude where’s my money shot?
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There’s one missing? There were so many hi-res pics to re-size I gave up after my 17th beer.
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Dissent in the editorial ranks already? We should be able to work up to some kinda cage fight event by the time TLA is back, at this rate. Maybe at the ‘Ling Arms? *excited anticipation*
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OK “money shot” added.
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Chilli recumbent
Mosaic renders speechless
Letterbox Dreaming
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Is it the disembodied head of a fat chick? Ok, I’m going, I’m going?
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The disembodied head is a hairdressing student’s mannequim head, whilst a student of hair beauty I well remember the hours spent giving blow jobs to disembodied heads.
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this is actually making me look forward to the new diarchy.
to the stone age, gentlemen
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Not not-Cotton.
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Man, are you serious? I give up. No palm spotter me.
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Cocos and majestic I can understand. But Cotton is cotton. Recalibrate or fuck off.
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What is with all the bottles?
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Love the fact that they DON’T want junk mail – well you wouldn’t want to clutter up the place.
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Exactly. That was what I said in the original post text, but it didn’t make it to the uploaded post. As they say on Media Watch – the error was made by a sub-editor.
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Maaate. You don’t want to be with Valerie, do you? No.
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Is a doghouse involved? No. Wait. I don’t want to know.
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How will they secure all of this? And make it through what promises to be (another) dark and stormy night?
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