A quick recap of last night.

I proudly upheld the cabal code by throwing down whatever was put in front of me. Beer, wine, cider, bourbon, scotch. Down it went. The caballing started with a section 8 guzzle down. Farva and Karahi struggled to match my furious pace, but I didn't make an issue of it. Welshmanbkk and henson jnr turned up, and we strolled down to the now famous Gheylords. More guzzling of beverages with some chewy hot stuff was wolfed down. Wbkk and junior then proceeded to show us their magic bag of tricks. Masks, weird red and green capes, whips, plants, large herbivores, electronic gadgetry and incriminating images were all stashed in this one tiny backpack. It was very Dora the Explorer-esque.
After the nose bagging we strolled the 117 kilometres to the game in the driving rain and sleet, and were it not for some handsome and intelligent poster packing a portable beverage dispenser, the mood in the camp could have turned ugly.
7.15pm we arrive at the gates. 391 text messages between the gen y'ers, to try and work out where we all were in relation to one another, and we were still unable to catch up with the rest of the cabal crew. Notwithstanding this, we showed Wbkk how to use his paper based ticket in the machine which fascinated him, and had it not been for the queue hurling abuse at him to hurry up, I think he would have spent the entire evening there swiping and re-swiping that ticket just to watch the pretty light go on and off.
The teams sung their songs, the game kicked off, Wales were clearly robbed in the end, and we were off again to another watering hole. This time it was a short 42 k slight sub marathon walk to the James Squire ale house in the scenic and prettier than Sydney, Docklands precinct. L.Ron was awestruck by the location and admitted so after he caught his breath and stopped grumbling about how far he had to walk. He then seemed to lose his breath when Dumbledore appeared. He roughly pushed Farva out of his seat so he could sit next to and gaze at Dumbledore for the evening.
Wbkk, after a suitable time of mourning, then joined up with the crew, and much beer was consumed. At this point the evening gets out of hand. And having typed for as long as I have, I will summarise:
A one legged hooker, and her toothless dog. Some poor old ladies Zimmerframe, a small crowd surf, a refrigerator being thrown from wbkk's hotel room, a gentlemans club, another hooker, this time with both legs and no dog, dwarf tossing, multiple plankings, and finally a mad scramble to evade the police. I am not sure who got away, but there does need to be a roll call here, so far Farva and I are here...

I know his parents, when they knew I was here they arranged for us to meet up for Junior to get an autograph and a picture.

Sam then suggested giving him the gear which of course has Junior smiling.

Has he washed them?

That is just fantastic. Love it! This place is great sometimes

this!!