Drive-by rage tweets

My esteemed friend and Hatstander in good hat-standing, Toon, delighted me this morning by revealing some of the childhood gastronomic favourites of Australia had found their way into the artisanal boutique wankery that is the Mount Lawley foodie scene.

Mount Lawley, to almost every single last one of you who doesn’t know, is a northern suburb of Perth, Western Australia. Even when I left the country in 2000 it was a known enclave of protohipsters, and this news has forever locked my opinion of the place in stone.

I mean … polony and sauce, it can’t by definition be fancy lunch meat and tomato relish. Damper has been an overpriced hipster and boomer treat since at least the ’90s, but it’s fucking campfire bread.

And to make it worse, now I’m hungry.

Edpool had a brief rant about this inevitable stop along the train line to cuisinal gentrification, but had to conclude it was inevitable, and nothing if not original.

Although if the Ozzy Man wants to have a yell about it, that would be funny.

You have to be careful, shouting about things on the Internet. If I had several million times the online influence, this might be seen as an attack on the restaurant owners. As it is, I like to think I’ve really just convinced Toon she needs to go to this place and waste (this is my official guess) $18 on a polony and sauce sanger.

I hope they have fairy bread for sweets. I’m going to get myself some lunch.

About Hatboy

I’m not often driven to introspection or reflection, but the question does come up sometimes. The big question. So big, there’s just no containing it within the puny boundaries of a single set of punctuationary bookends. Who are these mysterious and unsung heroes of obscurity and shadow? What is their origin story? Do they have a prequel trilogy? What are their secret identities? What are their public identities, for that matter? What are their powers? Their abilities? Their haunted pasts and troubled futures? Their modus operandi? Where do they live anyway, and when? What do they do for a living? Do they really have these fantastical adventures, or is it a dazzlingly intellectual and overwrought metaphor? Or is it perhaps a smug and post-modern sort of metaphor? Is it a plain stupid metaphor, hedged around with thick wads of plausible deniability, a soap bubble of illusory plot dependent upon readers who don’t dare question it for fear of looking foolish? A flight of fancy, having dozed off in front of the television during an episode of something suitably spaceship-oriented? Do they have a quest, a handler, a mission statement, a department-level development objective in five stages? I am Hatboy.
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4 Responses to Drive-by rage tweets

  1. Toon says:

    Good guess. It costs $14 and has a gluten free option.
    That “(GFO)” just makes it even worse.
    Given the …aah…robustness of real polony I’m wondering if it would actually survive the postal trip to Finland. I think it has to have a more than six months use by date which is feasible. And we know they let some right dodgy looking shit through your customs.
    And tomato sauce? Real honest to good tomato sauce, no substitutes – can you buy that there?
    I can’t get cheesy nuggies to you but a real polony and sauce sandwich is a challenge worth considering….

    • Hatboy says:

      We have plenty of almost-polony options (I actually made myself a sandwich with the last slice of bread in the house for lunch just now), and I could get closer if I really went looking. We have Heinz tomato sauce so no worries there.

  2. Hatboy says:

    In other news, this happened just a couple of hours later.

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