By Geisha Bar

Australia Day weekend, finishing with Andy C at Metros. It’s an annual bender that we should all have marked in our diaries.

Blazing Swan – Where all the free-spirited people who cannot afford the time off and flights to Burning Man go to simulate a Burning Man experience in our own backyard. There’s nothing greater than finding yourself, expressing yourself, and checking out of life for a few days. Blazing Swan is where you go to meet your soulmates and kindred spirits.

Coolabah. It tastes like absolute fucking dirt. Imagine a cocktail of paint thinner and that liquid that collects at the bottom of the veggie drawer in your fridge. But with a price like that you can afford to buy a few mixers to help you sink down your 4L of sweet fruity white – just refer to it as a “mimosa”.

“Do you have a light?” The best ice-breaker for standing around outside a club gurning your face off, eager to make some new best friends.

Elizabeth Quay, where you can pick up syphilis just from touching the water!

Fun for the whole family! FIFO, the industry standard keeping WA’s premier meth dealers in business.

Geisha Bar – The Home of House, full of amazing people. (But you already knew that!)

Habitat’s Garden Parties – A portal into the enchanted ether, where all of your wildest dreams can come true!

“I’m moving to Melbourne, Perth sucks”. WOAH dream big there, 2014 hipsteroo.

Jurien Bay, where people go to take acid and swim at the beach all day, but nobody notices the shady drugtaking because Jurien Bay is a seaside town frequented mainly by confused elderly people and obnoxious families.

Ketut, the future of every single Aussie bogan woman in her 50s. Everybody wins in this love equation! Legian, the coming-of-age ritual holiday for any self-respecting Perthian. Full of paralytic schoolies and obese Queenslanders angrily drawling slowly about the cost of “transport” and people “not speaking English properly”, this is your one-stop shop for “getting away from it all.”

Mad Dog, the baddest bikie in the west.

“None of the big tours come to Perth”. Unfortunately, as the second most isolated city in the world, we are an expensive gang to cater to. Tours that gleefully sell shows up and down the east coast frequently pass us over, resulting in many people’s gears being grinded. (See also “I”).

Observatory. Did you know Perth has one? Go check it out, they have amazing shit up there. Run don’t walk.

Perth Royal Show. Oh, fuck. Here we have many species fighting angrily over showbags and food.

Each species is trying to secure its place as king of the savannahs. But who will win? The large family from Rockingham, or the seagulls?

Questionable public artwork. Why. WHY!?

Really confusing traffic system. Perth has been in a reactive response to infrastructure needs rather than a proactive one since the 90s. So many roadworks, available all-year-round!

Sizzlers, for all your bogan family meal needs. Transperth. It’s how to travel in style, if you’re from a third world country.

UWA, where the people are jerks and the degrees are expensive. By all means, 20-year-old guy wearing a fully-buttoned paisley shirt, please do tell me more about your budding law career over your house red wine at the Claremont.

Very fantastic people. You all know that you’re amazing, right? Please ignore the self-effacing stuff I’ve mentioned in this list, because the people of Perth are total fucking gems!

Winery tours. Every female in Perth seemingly goes on “winery tours”. In order to do this, you need to possibly be part of a bridal party or a works do, and the standard winery tour garb is a dress from Forever New (preferably pastel and possibly with midriff cutout), some thick black strappy heels/wedges and some sort of large floppy hat. With some rounded vintage sunglasses. All Instagram accounts are go.

X is for xylophone, everybody knows that.

Yanchep, where rich UK expats go to whinge endlessly.

Zambreros, and every other Mexican food place on Beaufort Street. Beaufort Street is slowly becoming a turf-war between taco peddlers.