Wow, what a weekend. It’s 11:11 at night and I am just so hungover it’s not funny, but it’s a good hungover and not a bad hungover. It’s like “wow, we serious had such a good time” kinda feeling for it. I guess the old saying goes that for every moment of pleasure there is an equal moment of pain (or some crap like that).
I’ll try and go though each day and sum it up as best I can. Hopefully the boys will leave a few comments if I get any of the details wrong or forget an important part of the story. It’s actually occuring to me that for the 72 hours we were away, a good 65 of them are a little blurry – so bare with me. Also, some of the events are pretty outrageous, but I am sure the boys will vouch for their truth.
Day 1 – Friday
I pretty much spent biggest part of the day bored doing housework, packing clothes, burning CD’s, and fetching beer and various other goods for the trip. At about 4:30 I hear a car and my brother yells out to me, “hey Mitch, the fellas are here!”
w00t, I am Jack’s raging excitement!
I throw my laptop and the other things I am taking and throw it all into my bag and pick up the beer that is in my fridge – half a case of Empire left over from a previous incedent – and meet the guys in the hallway.
I am Jack’s unbelievable, uncontainable joy.
I shake hands with Mik and Lom – a mutual sign of love and respect, these guys are just awesome – I pass the beer to Mik and notice the excitement on his face as we make our way to Lom’s car. I say goodbye to everyone – and kiss my mummy like a good boy – get into the car and crack open a beer.
I am Jack’s thirst – quenched.
Next stop: pick up Ryan. Ryan only lives a few kilometers from my place, but Mik and I manage to drink 2 beers each before we get there – an early sign that this weekend is going to be one of alcohol and unlimited wonder. After we get to Ryans and pick him up we just start driving to Sydney. Ryan is feeling sick and decides not to drink – he lasted a good 25 minutes, huge effort actually. We’re drinking fast and Mik pulls his laptop out and we watch some Family Guy. Before any of us realize we are out of beer and we stop in Oranga. Mik pays some ridiculous price for the beer ,$45 (it’s normally about $30) but no one really minds – we have beer again!
I am Jack’s state of euphoria.
Due to the quality of the Family Guy episodes and the amount of beer we’re drinking, we arrive in Sydney in what feels like only a few minutes. It was seriously one of the quickest 460km of my life. We arrive at James’ house around 10 or 11 o’clock and purchase some more beer – 2 more cases, which dissapear rapidly. I don’t really remember a whole lot about Friday night, but it was fun, we spent it chilling out at James’ house, drinking beers and just having a really good time.
Day 2 – Saturday
I wake up on Saturday morning feeling pretty awful. We drank about half a case each (apparently I drank a little more, because there were a lot of bottles at my feet the next morning) before we even arrived between Mik, Ryan and myself and we manage to put away almost another 2 cases before the end of the night, between 5 of us. Average that out and it’s almost a case each, in other words; a butt load of beer.
I am Jack’s broken body.
Mik and James go and get more beer – another 2 cases – and some stuff for breakfast, and James makes us the best meal of bacon, sausages and eggs and we are all suddenly feeling better. I feel the energy coming back to my body and I feel like drinking with my friends again and just having some more laughs – Mik, Ryan, Liam and James have been drinking since 8am to get over their hangovers.
“Oi Mitch, want a beer yet man,” Ryan asks as he cracks open what is probably his 6th beer.
“Nah man, not yet, still feeling seedy,” I say stroking my stomach. “I am in a state worse than Tasmania bro.” The guys laugh, but I feel more like I want to die. I know that if I just drank I’d probably begin to feel better, but better judgment stopped me from doing it.
Ryan, Liam and myself are sitting out the front as a guy with a Fox Terrier approaches. We laugh, because we all know that Ryan is going to say something and be a smart ass – he always does – and brace for it’s impact. Here is the conversation, and for obvious reasons after you read the conversation, I have titled the unknown gentleman as “Mobster”.
Ryan: Hey man, what kind of dog is that?
Mobster: It’s a Fox Terrier cross. It hates cops man!
We all laugh because that is such a random comment, but it gets better.
Ryan: Yeah, does it?
Mobster: Yeah, it bites their ankles. Fucking hates them!
Ryan: Mad ankle biter hey?
We laugh again – nervously.
Mobster: Yeah, when I used to work on the “black market” all the other guys had German Sheppards, but I had these. Their smart you know?
Ryan: Are they, man?
Mobster: Yeah, my other dog is the smartest. I had him trained so that if the cops came, I’d give him my pistol and he’d take it out and throw it down the drain. Smart dogs.
We laugh, but a lot quieter this time, he is clearly a little unstable. He walks off after a few comments and we burst out laughing so loud. Absolutely so hilarious.
At around 2 o’clock, after playing a whole ton of Gran Turismo 3 with James and feeling awful, we decide to go into the city. James lives close to the city, so we walk in and have some adventures along the way. We cross a dirty old vagrant bag lady who threatens us with her crutches, walk through the center of Broadway with beers in our hands and just laugh the whole way there.
We checked out some markets and some food, but we quickly bore and end up at the best bar in the universe. This bar is the most comfortable bar ever – it’s in the middle of Chinatown and apart from one barmen, the guys working there rule and totally love us to death, we are so loud the whole time and they think it is awesome.
We order a few rounds of pints (HUGE beers, 568 ml to be exact) and we put them away quit quickly. I begin to start feeling better and have a great time joining in on all the fun around me. Some people are sitting near us and they are looking at us quite dubiously. We’re a bunch of crazy guys, blind out of our trees and being so loud it’s not funny. Their sun starts smiling at us and we give him some Lik-Wid stickers and he puts one across his shirt.
“Hey man, check this out!” James yells, a moment before he hits my glass with his own. It shatters into about 3 pieces, but not so much that I can’t still drink out of it. I laugh and take a small sip and everyone around us gives us the ‘look at those hoodlums’ look, but we’re used to it by now.
“Hey, hand me that glass,” says the barman.
“Can I finish it?”
“Nah, don’t, I’ll get you another one on the house!”
I thought we were going to be kicked out, but instead he fetches me a free beer. Sure we’ve put a few hundred dollars into the bar already, but we are pretty blind and we’re beginning to break shit. He returns with my beer and a football for our new friend, Cain the 9 year old. His MILF mum smiles at us, a pretty cute smile in fact and we all joke about it afterwards.
Right now I am just feeling great. We’re in a good pub, we’re being treated really good by everyone and they just seem to love us, the bar staff are coming every few minutes to make sure we have a great time and it just ends up being a blast.
I am Jack, renewed.
[ Okay, well it’s now almost midnight. I am a little cranky and very sick so I think I will go to bed. This story is also becoming a little boring and “this happened, then this happened” so I will try and finish it off with a bit more interest and enthusiasm in the morning. ]