Effs for short

In the tradition of a couple of generations of inventive nomenclature in Reservoir, I bring you Effone. I discussed correct pronunciation with a couple of friends and we agreed it should rhyme with "deafer knee". We also agreed the name is made no less attractive by the fact that Effone has elected to tag it onto the back of a local junior league football shelter and punctuate it with a mark we debated as being perhaps a superfluous quotation mark, an umlaut, or the somewhat more likely option of a smiley face.

Not In My Back Yard

I'd like to send a special hello to all our local candidates in the upcoming federal election. 

Having Rezza in your electorate on polling day must be like having an A.D.D kid on a hot air balloon ride. Enjoy!

Mixed Media

In this work we see a highly creative, if not subversive application of the artist's trademark 'Cock and Balls' motif onto pre-existing utilitarian forms on the exterior of a rental vehicle. A postmodern bas-relief technique has been employed wherein dirt and detritus are removed from a soiled surface by hand to expose clean, negative space. We can assume it is no coincidence that he chose an Atlas rental vehicle for his canvas, speaking as it does in the most literal sense of the weight of the modern world in which we find ourselves. When juxtaposed with the whimsy of the primitivist phallic form, (drawn twice, to seemingly emphasise its impact, yet on the balance, quite consciously diluting it) then taking his work "to the streets" via this most literal and incidental of methods, the viewer is left only with the question: "What is permanent anyway?"

And if you fall......

All great music careers have to start somewhere. I guess by that logic they have to end somewhere too.

Can I please ask everyone out there to put down the bong, take a moment to raise your lighters high and sing a verse with me for Daryl?

Can't you see him, he's down on the grou-ound
He has a broken wing, looking all arou-ou-ound
That's the way it's gonna be little darlin' (be little darlin')
You'll go riding on the horses yeah yeah
Way up in the sky little darlin' (in the sky-y little darlin')
Oh, and if you fall I'll pick you up, pick you u-up

Man, I bet there was some sick denim in the RSL that night.

Stranger Danger

A local mother, calling to her children: 
"Get inside! There's a cunt lookin' at ya!"
To the cunt: 
"You're a fucken idiot!!"

Mum - 1
Cunt - 0

Na Mate We Can Fix It!

My guess is that you don't come up with a name like this until you've been asked "Is it fucked?" enough times.

The Harbinger

A while back now I noticed this very upsetting development in the local community - Reservoir cultural institution and social mecca Broadway Bingo Centre has closed down. Yes. Anyone who has made it right through this blog will know the special place that Bingo Bonanza held in my heart, like here, and here. 

More recently it has emerged that the Bingo is to be replaced by the incongruous yet increasingly predictable real estate outcome in Reservoir of a commercial gym.

I guess a few months from now the flickering Bingo sign will be gone and Broadway will be increasingly populated with people in lycra zipping intently from their car past the op shop and the crazy bargains shop up the stairs (two or three at a time) to the gym. 

On the plus side, I guess they'll help Rezza's mortality stats, and to be fair we could probably use a boost there. For a while at least though, whenever I see the gym I'll still think of the dismal array of people you always used to see chugging a durrie on the pebble mix staircase between bingo games. I'll never be able to explain the fondness I formed for them. Maybe it was because they always looked as though they were exactly where they wanted to be. You never see that in a gym.