Sharp eyed dumpster divers among us will have noticed a trend thats been growing in the Antipodean outback of the Australian forefront these past few millennia.
A curious occurrence on sidewalks and laneways in the Urbanocene of the British Empire’s favourite beachside forced labour camp. I am of course referring to the curious practice of tossing apparently box-fresh barbeques on city streets, side lanes and back alleys with impunity.
The alarming rate at which this Alfresco Abandonment is expanding is as mind boggling as it is mouth watering and according to recently declassified satellite photos, by the year 1990 there will be 7 barbeques for every man, woman and child in the southern hemisphere.
As exciting as this outdoor jumble sale is, I recently noticed an even more profane deviation of the body corporate rules and regulations that govern this desert island that took the form of your, now garden variety, abandoned barbeque.. but with a curious twist.
Hiding in plain sight, behind my local anal bleaching clinic was a barbeque the size of a small Italian family car.. like an edible FIAT 500, only functional.
I pondered to myself: how many days before this once proud edifice of chargrilled supremacy that now stands ignominiously as a testament to the moral bankruptcy of consumerism, will be repurposed by a chef of less discriminating tastes in a nearby backyard.. and this when i noticed something new in the experience.
The aforementioned grill, rather than simply being renditioned to an undisclosed location in the former Soviet Union, had been gutted for parts and now more closely resembled the carcass of a blue whale decomposing on the seabed or a stolen car, up on cinder blocks in the Bronx, having been stripped of all of its precious metals before being used employed as a toilet by the homeless.
The mind boggles at the underground economy encompassing this grill gotten booty and one can’t help but pole vault to the conclusion that an entire generation of feral kids, the lone survivors of the impending climate apocalypse, will forge the next sausage sizzle on top of the ash heap of the 21st century, grilling exclusively on these Mad Max like machinations, bolted together into towering infernos from parts of lesser grills, whilst the architects of these bespoke artworks tear each other limb from limb in the battle royale for the finale propane tank, with which to enjoy the long promised great big barbeque at the end of the universe.