getting to third base

This image is on the Meridian International School’s exterior wall at Waterloo St. It depicts a Surrealist landscape appropriating the Adam and Eve story from The Book of Genesis.

To the right of the frame Eve faces a large hand. She is denoted by her voluptuous figure.

Looking away from this scene is a sombre Adam. Holding a beer in his left hand, he knows Eve is leading him toward death. But he’s a bit pissed and wants to get to third base before dinner.

Then Lucifer, the serpent wrapped around the hand, beckons these kiddies toward The Theme Park of Eden to eat the Toffee Apple of Knowledge.

“It’sss tempting, isssn’t it kidsss?” Lucifer says.

They buy tickets, hop on the ‘coaster and experience the greatest euphoria of their immortal existence.

But they want more.

They keep returning, only to find each time less exciting than the last. That first rush is almost in grasp, but falls farther away.

Now they’re exhausted, it’s getting late and Adam hasn’t even tickled the butterfly yet.

Hold on. Who's that waiting at the rollercoaster’s apex?

slutty hills

This path art was in an obscure alleyway off Crown St, near the corner of Jesmond St. I don’t particularly like it. It has the aesthetic appeal of cured vomit and the poetic meaning of a Shakespearean fart.

But I like the shadow play around the letters and the little 'kiss'. Mwa back at you lover.

Of course it’s difficult for anyone, other than The Acid Midget, to spot this piece during a late night Oxford St drug run.

These prints were found in an alleyway off Lt Riley St, Slutty Hills. The top image looks like Ned Kelly. For the noobs, he was a martyr to hipsters everywhere for his avant-garde 'iron chic' designs.

Beneath this image is everyone’s nightmare – a salesman with a greasy face and a bum chin - with the word `aspire’ inscribed over his neck rolls.

How the artist/s meant for these images to relate is unclear. Maybe it’s commentary on social stratification and its influence on outlaw ideology. Or maybe I’ve had too many beers, and i'm beginning to see ideas beyond the end of my penis shaft.

mail delivery

One thing i like about Surry Hills folk is their hippie mentality. It's refreshingly off-the-wall.

Surry Hillster: "No, Mr Postman, don't put that fucking letter in the letterbox. That's, like, empowering the 'establishment' and shit."

Postman: "Listen here, you smelly little hipster. If you ask me to put mail in your window, play Cowboys and Indians with your Shih Tzu, or offer me a spliff one more time - i'll beat the cunting shit out of you."

Surry Hillster: "Naawww dude, don't be so literal and shit. I, like, speak in analogies. Or whatever."

Postman: "Here, just take this fucking letter. It’s from the Bob Dylan Society. I heard they’re going into receivership.”

Surry Hillster: “Aww damn…well Dylan would probably want it that way, it’s only money. So go fuck yourself mailbitch.”

halloween

So it was Halloween last week, a special time of year for freaks (like you). On Saturday night i got a bit drunk at the Clock Hotel and decided to walk home when it got late.

I turned onto Bourke St just outside Bar Cleveland. I saw a BMW parked on the road and - HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT. IT'S A MUMMY SITTING IN A HIPSTER'S CAR.

I took this photo as i soiled my Calvin Kleins.

stereosonic

I snapped this piece of skywriting on Sunday afternoon at Bondi Beach. I had trouble taking my eyes off the frothy surf, which was like a salty Pavlova filled with surfboards and titties.

Then i looked up.

Gotta hand it to the pilot. His, um, `handwriting' is damn neat considering he's 10,000 feet up and racing against shifts in the stratosphere.

Personally i can't wait for Stereosonic. It hits Sydney on November 28 and will be headlined by Deadmau5, Axwell, Fedde Le Grand and Laurent Garnier.

It'll be another Pavlova, filled with skinny jeans and titties this time.

Image editing by Melvyn Knipe.