(Warning: post contains amateur poetry)
The cats lie on cool stretches of wooden floor.
We've looked at houses, a couple livable, none that grabbed us. In Fitzroy, after pottering through a respectable if smallish house we found a lovely little cafe on George Street, off the beated path.
We shared a cinnamon muffin with cream and a refreshing green tea with orange that tasted like weak TANG.
The paper offered things to be angry about, things worthy of posts. But it is hot, so hot, that it bakes me into submission. And besides, I have an enduring image of China's new approach to winning over Taiwan; Pandas.
Bless. Bilbies for Iran?
So I'm in an idiotic rather than politically-charged mood. Jaded left me a comment. Jaded has a poetry/photo blog. I decided to join in the fun under a photo of a sign to "Platform No. 8":
On platform 8 you
left shoes
found a door
stood with baggage
spoke to the wind
slept a second
hummed in E minor
and laughed, briefly, when a pigeon shat.
This evening is a Riesling evening...
Armistice Day
-
The Great War continues, more than 100 years later Yesterday was November
11, the anniversary of the armistice which ended fighting on the Western
Front of...
4 days ago
9 comments:
What is a bogan? Well a bogan is a yobbo or a bevan, typically with a mullet haircut and tight jeans. Some bogans are obvious, like Warwick Capper and Brian Mannix (their haircuts say it all), others are understated like Tina Arena or Kate Langbroek. While other Bogans are more complex, like the entire population of Adelaide and Boris Yeltsin, who is an example of an 'International Bogan'.
But the question remains, are you a bogan? We all laugh at bogans but are we really laughing at ourselves. Well with the following quiz, by choosing answers A, B or C, we can establish for once and all, if you are a bogan.
Your older brother had the following records in his collection, which you used to love listening to:
a. Frampton Alive. Dire Strait's Brothers in Arms. Midnight Oil's Head Injuries.
b. 1927's Ish. INXS' Shabooh Shabah. TISM's Great Trucking Songs of the Rennaisance.
c. Haircut One Hundred's Pelican West. ABC's Lexicon of Love. Any Icehouse album.
At the Fish and chip shop you would order:
a. Chiko roll and chips... extra salt.
b. Piece of flake, banana fritter and some wedges.
c. Grilled piece of flake, small salad and a can of diet coke.
When you go on a holiday you choose:
a. Bali, Surfers or Rosebud.
b. Noosa, Lorne or Thailand.
c. Broome, Vietnam or Europe.
Your favourite holiday is booked with:
a. Kon tiki
b. Flight Centre
c. STA
You buy some smokes, you prefer:
a. Winnie Blues
b. Benson and Hedges
c. You don't smoke, it's bad for you.
Your favourite person on 'Neighbours' is:
a. Toady
b. Brooke Satchwell
c. Harold
You watch Melrose Place and look at Amanda, you think:
A. She's a spunk
B. She's alright
c. She's a slut
You got to the scary outer suburban nightclub Bundys/Stages/21stCentruy/Blazers, you feel:
a. At home, you know all the barmaids, you went to school with them.
b. Curious yet eager to join in with the drinking festivities.
c. Scared out of your brain, you hope your SAAB's alright in the carpark.
You love a good laugh and your favourite comedians are:
a. Rodney Rude. Coll Elliot. Kevin Bloody Wilson.
b. Merrik and Rosso. Dave O'Neil
c. Anyone who's been on 'The Panel'.
The sticker on the back of your car says:
a. If it's rocking don't bother knocking!
b. No Fear
c. Magic Happens
Your ultimate job would be:
a. The guy who takes the photos for 'Street Machine'
b. The guy who takes the photos for 'Ralph'
c. The guy who takes the photos for 'National Geographic'
You hang shit on people who live in:
a. Moe
b. Ringwood/Weribee/Frankston
c. Anywhere apart from St Kilda where you live.
You call your Dad:
a. The old man
b. Dad
c. Father dearest or Sir
The last book you read was:
a. Anything by Max Walker, he's a pisser.
b. Anything by Stephen King, he's brilliant.
c. Anything by Irvine Welsh/Will Self, they're wonderful.
You turn on the telly, it ultimately lands on:
a. What's up Doc, that Kate woman's a spunk.
b. The Panel, that Kate woman's a spunk.
c. The ABC and the movie 'Elizabeth' is on, that Cate woman is a spunk.
If you answered mainly A's. You're a full on moccasin wearing, holden driving bogan. You're proud of the fact and you aspire to be like Gary Ablett or Jimmy Barnes. You were spewing when Rose Tatoo broke up and your idea of a good saturday night is footy replay, followed by Sizzler/Smorgys then a Van Damme Video from Movieland.
If you answered mainly B's. You're what we call a 'Closet Bogan'. Someone who has the basic bogan instincts but is supressing them. You most likely grew up in the outer suburbs then moved into the inner suburbs when you went to Uni. But you can't deny it, you love playing kick to kick in the street, you've got couple of flannies in your wardrobe, you secretly sing along to The Angels tracks when your radio 'accidentally' finds itself on MMM. Face up to it, you're a bogan.
If you answered mainly C's. You're a snob, any bogan would call you a poof, regardless of sex type or orientation. You have no bogan in you at all. No amount of Cold Chisel albums or tight stretch jeans will ever change you. You live mainly in St Kilda and sit in cafes where you work on your screenplay/play/book. All your friends are all called Jeremy and Tash and you grew up in a middle class suburb. Sorry your bogan credentials are zero.
Someone was bored? Ah well, guess this was a post that invited random responses.
I think plenty of bogans live in st kilda, however.
Westgarth might have been the better, more up to date, reference...
Bogan spam?
I kind of like your poem.
Listen, I knew to avoid the C answers after about the third question. You gotta mix 'em up.
Armaniac. Not a bad poem old boy. But the last line destroyed it.
Try again.
Bogans? Pandas? Pomes?
The Chinese bogans throw their coke cans at the pandas.
Yeah but no but yeah no the Bogan quiz person left out our chav heroine Vicky of Little Britain.
What if this heat didn't stop?
So who is your favourite genius? James Hird or James Joyce?
Beautiful poetry and so much nicer than politics on such a lovely day.
Poetry is the language of lurve, brothers.
Dear god woman, what the hell are you doing here? Flee while you still have your sensibilites....
She likes a top-shelf offering from time to time =)
Post a Comment