This city gets sicker. It’s a mistake to think you’ve seen everything as a reporter. I’ve witnessed junkies dead for four days in brown Fremantle units; 50-year-old councillors square off by a rose garden; a woman in Nollamara try to breast-feed her dog; the burnt books at the Claremont library.
But something I saw last night shocked me. If I was TL 101 I would’ve thought, ‘What the hell?’ I was at dinner in Northbridge and talk was of, among other things, Rising Water. Eyes flashed, and there were snickers.
These…people are staging a play about a Koondoola teenager who blinds six dolphins with a bike pump. The kid, high one night on glue, is fascinated to read about the sexual habits of the creatures. He starts hanging out at Atlantis, cleaning their stables. But things go pear-shaped when he sits next to his father in a brothel near Bobbi’s. After learning the public prosecutor refuses to try dolphins in the Swan River for pack rape he goes to the water near the casino and commits his unspeakable crime. This masterpiece is to be called Dolphuus.
I felt my Mongolian scallops rising. The sinister dramaturges showed me napkins on which they had written bits of dialogue: ‘And Spankus begat Spunkus the Great, who was the greatest graffiti artist on Angove Street. And Dickwad begat Tightwad. And John Lennon begat John Waters, the King of Spit. And Dolphuus spoke out of his blow-hole.’
They claimed John Howard has already signed to play Dyson, the old counselor fart who tries to cure the boy. They said John has already advised on the production issues of a marine stage. They claimed it will have its premiere at…the Dolphin Theatre. A Black Swan production.
It was too much. I reeled out of the restaurant and up the street into Lux – where the men’s toilet looked as though a dolphin had given birth.
Later I wept over unnecessary quotation marks.
Several people sent me this. The first was 
Worst well.
And may I add another irrational hatred? Of course I may. John Waters is still doing looking through a Glass Onion? Does he intend to play it until the last baby boomer is cold in their grave? Dude, enough is enough.
Both meetings have already unanimously approved an end to innocent pedestrians in Bassendean having their kahunas sucked out by giant spiders, which I know will be met with relief…
Has the literay life force been sucked out of Tim Winton? Has he set up this transport business just in case the royalties run dry? Did he back down from calling it The Removalists after David Williamson threatened to set fire to his sandals? What next: Shaun Tan transmogrifying into a gutter cleaner? Is this Winton Transport at work shifting Bento’s cardigans (note location of van).
I was frightened at first by finding these spectacles in my letterbox, and thought my life was going down the toilet, but then I realised it could be 
See you on the barricades, and say high to your branch secretary from me.
The Country Bandit sees that the spirit is weak in Stoneville. This style of font is making a comeback in advertising you may notice.
Orbea finds that Mirrabooka is catching the spirit too.
Krissy liked this packet at Woolies. Why? Just Cos.
And Bart K saw a fire exit change room in Melbourne.
The Worst of Perth 