The Worst of Perth

“What sort of sick society are we living in where a man can’t even have a quiet wee next to his car at a shopping centre without getting shot?”

That fucking rainmaker Bento can be is the ultimate floursifter at times – but for my shekels he made the best comment on the best post of the year, an exploded Volvo in Stirling, courtesy of Jay F.

Runner-up came from TSM, in Maylands: it had us learning a new word; a fine registered lawn; incisive political comment from My Ning; and the owner of the vehicle getting shitty with our blogging overlord.

I am a sensitive and artistic soul. I drink with cops for my gerbalism, but you know I would rather be writing miniature haiku in Sangrurian on origami while listening to vibrating whales. Cops like talking about cars, so if it wasn’t for TWOP I would feel exposed. Perhaps this is the reason why four other car posts are equal third in 2012: thanks NF#1, Poiyter (where TLA pranked/planked himself), JaneZ (although, being a chick, she didn’t get the make and model), and the P-plate driver of a lowered station wagon in Claremont.

But the real value of TWOP is the remorseless cultural examination of the Zeitgeistrorelson of Teh Pert. Exhibit A: TLA’s cold eye on the exciting local drama. Exhibits B & C: the exciting local architecture. Exhibit D: NF#1 keeps up with the exciting local poesy.

TLA sent pics from foreign parts, as did BSWaM, but I preferred Snuff-san’s discoveries. They really are just like us!

“Total Perth action” was how TLA described this city delight from Robert F, after noting: “The worsts are strong with this one”.

Of the 301 suburbs we call home, there hasn’t been much from Beechina, Gorrie, or Mardella. Get worsting in 2013 – I can’t bear the suspense.