Look at this house. Just look at it. And don't forget to take the photo tour.
I keep on coming up with different euphemisms to describe it.
Big plastic game hunting - the house!
A house that makes you doubt the universe's sanity. If it exists, it's as if existence itself has had an acid-induced hallucination.
Technicolour technispasm!
If I had the money that the people had who built this house when they built this house, I'd be sure to use it responsibly. By not building this house.
Reality meets a psychopathic fantasy of Salvador Dali's brain meets the spirit of renaissance architecture, the three separate entities copulate, and produce a horror child.
Who built this house?
Why did they build this house?
Did they blow their entire fortunes on this neo-Gormenghast?
Who would buy this house?
What are the books in the library?
Did the piano ever get used?
Can you imagine what it would be like growing up in this house?
One things for sure. It doesn't just take one person to conceive a monstrosity of pretense like this. It takes a village. Check out the names of the suburb, the area, the road, and the adjoining road. (Paradise Point, on the Sovereign Islands, on Britannica Drive, just down the road from King Arthurs Court.)
We often say 'beyond words'. But this place really is beyond words.
(Via Deborah.)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Tim, your links stink, you fink!
- John Bangsund's Threepenny Planet
- Broken Biro
- Poetry 24
- Superlative scribbles
- Kirstyn McD!
- Rorrim a tsomla almost a mirror
- More Sterne
- Sterne
- Cam the man from the Dan.
- Too hot to Raaaaaaandallllllll!
- Erin's Excellently Everlasting Effervescements!
- Slammy Infamy
- Hail Paco!
- Baron Blandwagon, purveyor of cyberbunnies, hawker of Roger Corman, and Misruler of the Multiverse
- The Bolta. Aiyeeeeee!!!!!
- Bad Apple Audrey
- The cartoon church
- Sir Martinkus
- A Zemblanian abroad and at home
- A hodge podge of hotzeplotz
- THE SLAMMA!
- Jottlesby's nottings, or should that be Nottlesby's jottings?
- The Snarking of the Hunt
- Jazzy Hands
- David of Metal City
- David the Barista
- The Blogger on the Cast Iron Balcony
- Be an Opinion Dominion Minion!
- Mel...
- ... and Fel
- His brilliant career - from whale sushi to crumbed prawn
- Jo Blogs
- Yet another Tim
- Croucherisms...
- Was two peas, now three peas
- Desciopolous!
- ... Still Life - now with extra rotating cats!
- Erin...
- An Amazingly Awesome Australian Ampersand!
- Blink and you'll miss 'er
- Red in the land of the tigers!
- Wire of Vibe
- Chase him, ladies, he's in the cavalry!
- The Non-palindromical Editrix in Germanium
- Old Sterne
- Gempiricalisations
- TonyT
- The briefs...
- ... and the brieflets
- The Purple Blog
- Blairville, lair of all that is wicked and perfidious
- The enticingly acronymical CSH
- EXTREEEEEEEME WYNTER!
- Mark of California
- Jellyfish
- Silent Speaking
- Lexicon the Mexican
Email: timhtrain - at - yahoo.com.au
Blog Archive
-
▼
2009
(290)
-
▼
February
(23)
- Fridge tragic challenge
- Kill! Type for Food!
- Helplines for the helpless
- Occident incident
- Technicolour technispasm!
- Be an Alfalfa man!
- Imbruglia embroigled with roigle?
- Be a role model for your children!
- Monkey's flunkey
- No, you don't
- Specubating, masterlating
- Unmedicated predications
- Brevitudinousness is the soul of witlessness
- Unspeakable! Unimaginable! Unfolding! Underpants!
- The losing of wisdom
- Bland of the dead
- Apostrophes! And coming contractions!
- Duhfinitive
- Things on my kitchen shelf recently affected by th...
- Too much show, too little tell
- Just Tright
- The wit and wisdom of my Mum
- How to travel internationally without leaving home
-
▼
February
(23)
10 comments:
Oh come on, that's just cruel.
I loev this house. Leopard print sofa, be mine, baby!
No, this brings to mind something Scarlett O'Hara would build. I think Rhett Butler commented on how she had such disgusting bad taste and her house was a 'monstrosity' and she built it big and tastelessly gaudy to try to impress people but she just lacked any good taste whatsoever and he would rather not live at home.
I think she might find a place like this kind of neat, though even she might balk at that bathroom!
That would drive me a bit crazy. I like a bit of serenity when I concentrate on bowel movements. That room wouldn't give it to me.
I think "Pet Sematary" comes to mind here. This really does look like a few animals, like lions, are spreadeagled in death throes on the floor and are struggling to make a comeback in anguish, through the floor boards. Just plain spooky!
"ingst" is my word verification here - more like "angst"!
That was another description I thought of. 'Technicolour yawn with the wind.'
Yesterday when I saw this, I was aghast, then in denial, then I started questioning fate - 'why? how? who?'. Now, however, I have passed into a calm and tranquil acceptance.
I'd better not go near that toilet though, or I might start the whole cycle and be aghast all over again.
I don't know what you're all talking about. I think it's lovely, and if ever I want to make a film about the decadence of imperial Rome, I'm heading straight to the Gold Coast. I bet it's even got its own vomitorium.
And ornamental house gladiators.
Steady on there. Those gladiators cost money, what with their Gladiatorial Union and all.
And one wouldn't want to waste money on a project like this. No, sirree.
I'm not sure if I'd believe you, Baron, if the rolling credits claimed that "no lions were harmed in the making of this film"
I have a theory that this is all an aggressive mind game.
It's like the costumes of the black American gangstas, with their ridiculous oversized basketball jerseys and comically baggy pants - they know they look like clowns, but they want you to realise that you're too scared to laugh at them. They're saying, "I look like a fool, but I'm so dangerous that you don't dare laugh at me. You are thus my bitch."
Similarly, I bet the owner of this house regularly invited his financial inferiors over and silently challenged them to react to his gaudy, hideous house. They didn't dare. They simply sat on that monstrous leopard skin couch, sipped their sugary drinks, and despised him for making them his bitches.
I like it. From time to time papers like the Sun in the UK do features on people like this, who become very rich very fast through very questionable means, and consequently make a point of flaunting their wealth in other people's faces.
Considering the variety of stuff it has on offer, I did wonder whether it was intended as a guest house for overseas rich folk such as are wont to habituate the Gold Coast from time to time.
MY EYES! MY EYES! THEY HAVE NOTHING BUT SPOTS BEFORE THEM! Oh. That's the bathroom.
Baby Bejeebus, there's just NO accoutning for taste. or accounting, even.
Wow. I'm still seeing spots, and I haven't looked at it for 5 minutes.
[OMFCC! Doorbitch says PRESSESS!!!]
[SORRY ABOUT AL THE CAPS. JUST A VERY EXCITING THING]
Post a Comment