Let the magic of Thornbury lead you down its cobbled lanes.
Past its gingerbread cottages.
To the architectural splendour of its Cold War era apartment complexes (cf. Prague, 1952, minus the weather).
Dine on fresh bulk pet meat daily. Yes, please.
Paint fences with cutting aphorisms.
Free the refugees, why don't you?
Ponder questions of scale.
Race tram 86.
To Carlton.
The other thing you can do in Thornbury is put your mushrooms near the back of your new fridge so that they freeze, and then cook 'em a week later. Most mushroomy mushrooms you'll ever taste. Don't know why we haven't been freezing our mushrooms for years. Thank you, Thornbury.
12 comments:
Dr Lexicon, can I buy a vowel for some wall graffiti please?
You, Tim, you can have a vowel for free. Whaddayasay to a game of hangman, public fence style? (Before anyone mentions gallows humour, I've already thought of it.)
Very nice- inner-city sophistication with just the requisite amount of urban grit (as I imagine a real estate agent might put it).
My favourite piece of graffiti is "Piers Akerman, disgrace to Australian journalism", but I can't remember if it was in Newtown or Tempe.
For pithy and incisive political humour, you can't really go past 'John Coward Hunt', which has been used and reused on various walls.
John Howard: Cultural Terrorist [with his face where the colon is, only vertically not horizontally (you can't tell I'm drunk, can you?)] beats the 'Hunt'. It also leads to a certain amount of discussion...
Nails, I'll give you a dollar if you come down here and paint that on a fence.
John Coward: Hultural terrorist? Maybe not. Fine images, Dr H, but what I really want to see - when you have a moment - is photographic evidence of these greek pastries you've been tantalising us with.
I might have to buy some before they let me whip out my camera. Maybe I should host a Greek pastry tea party. Although that would require owning some chairs. Get chairs first, make friends second, issue tea party invitations third, purchase Greek pastries fourth, titillise you with photographs of Greek pastries on blog fifth, Bob's your uncle sixth.
I'll stalk the streets until I find the person with the stencil and then I'll send them your way.
Any picture I painted of Howard would involve an awful lot of knives in uncomfortable places.
I hear you, sister. Although, peace-lovin' believer in human redeemability that I am, I'd probably attempt some intensive re-education before I resorted to knives. How one illustrates with a spraycan J.H. being intensively reeducated I'm not quite sure.
Knives... ;)
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