Sunday 10 June 2007

Wherein the author learns that her ancestral paradise runneth over with four-stroke

I've got this surname, you see. I don't like to type it here, lest the Australian Secret Intelligence Service plugs the old name into Google and comes up with an incriminating account of my armpits. Let's just say, though, that this surname has oft been coupled with "Davidson" to surprisingly lucrative effect.

So, here we are. Harlot Heaven. Disappointing, to say the least. There I was, thinking that the former things would have passed away, and still I'm wearing the same enormous hat that I've worn almost every day for the past two years.

Look closely, and you'll observe the disconcerting sight of an establishment two doors down called "Inferno". That's a coincidence almost as exciting as Northcote Coles' juxtaposition of Heinz Baked Beans and a rack of novelty whoopee cushions.

8 comments:

Alextricity said...

Oh, Ms Davison,
Your patchwork skirt looks simply DASHING! I love ur colourful outfit!
Ok, more on the subject: Growing up, my dad was the big biker type [incl. handle-bar moustache - dear lord] who took us for ride in the STUDDED saddle bags of his enormous Harley! I was the coolest kid in kindy cos I got dropped off on such a beast by such a well polished gent.
As for the constant references to offensive underarms - should I bring the old clothes peg to Melb with me??
The hat is heavenly... In fact! A large hat may be my heaven-SEND to get rid of the creases developing between my marvellously sculpted eyebrows from squinting into the sunlight too much! If they have one in purple, I'll take it...
Advise for shopping in Melb? I think I only get a day in the actual city! Sorry for the length of this COMMENT! lol.
Seeya :)

Anonymous said...

You've probably spotted this, but there is a retailer of a certain brand of motorcycle cum cafe cum bookshop on Parramatta rd called "Deus ex machina".

Our surnames* have a lot of letters in common and rhyme, what's more, so I'm sure that's my entry pass to heaven sorted.

*I'm terribly paranoid about confessing mine on the wire.

Unknown said...

Lurv it! Lurv it! Lurvit! Clap hands for joy! --- But I think one of us is dyslexic doesn't that sign say interno -- not inferno?

Alexis, Baron von Harlot said...

I think it says "inferno", Miss E, but then, I would. Perhaps it could say "inferno" for me, and "interno" for you. I'm easy.

Alextricitrix, the hat was begotten by a milliner in Leura, west of Sydney, and I don't recall its having any purple siblings. I'll keep an eye out, though. As for shopping in the 'Bourne, I'm not really much of a one for recreational shopping. Is there anything you 'specially want to buy? If you're just after knick-knacks and doo-dahs, Smith St and Brunswick St in Fitzroy have some interesting schtuff.

K, your surname rhymes with mine? I've been mentally pronouncing it to rhyme with "Snaily" all these years. "Deus ex machina": many are the times I've wondered why, never have I investigated further.

Anonymous said...

"Snaily" is correct, but will you banish me from heaven on account of a slightly off rhyme?

My sister has been there, as she lives nearby. Very trendy, muffins and bread not cooked on premises: minus points.

Anonymous said...

Assuming, that is, that you say "snaily" the way I say "snaily". Oh, the perils of phonetics!

Alexis, Baron von Harlot said...

Though how trendy can a cafe be, if it opens out onto the splendour of six lanes' worth of Parramatta Rd?

Anonymous said...

Oh no, Alexis, it can be very trendy indeed, pretentious even. Parramatta Rd has the warehouse aesthetic, you see. It will never be gentrified and that's the way the locals like it- it will always be underground, always have its finger on the pulse of gritty urban realism. As a former Leichhardt lass you should know this only too well.

Really though, it's a fascinating road to walk up, probably one of the most interesting in Sydney, because all these unexpected things keep jumping out at you amid the desolation. There's a milk bar there which is like a time warp to enter, as well as anarchist bookshops, cake shops, brothels, dance studios, curiously themed restaurants... It's certainly where Walter Benjamin would hang out in Sydney!

I'm still mulling over this puzzle of our surnames, more than the puzzle warrants perhaps.