TFS, Tucker and Ozbhoy's After Grog Blog

Let Us Pray

So on the Saturday just gone I did journey forth to The Caxton I was to meet with fellow worshippers TFS and Tucker.
Alas only one could make the ardous journey and as it was Tucker and my self stood arm in arm to pray.

The night stated awkwardly as we were two strangers who had only a passing knowledge of each other and had met through a third party, namely TFS. We chatted and drank whilst the morons watching the rugby league on the telly did their best to make sure that we both appeared deaf by constantly asking "sorry, what did you say"

The night was livened up by the appearance of a gentleman who sans pants made for a lap around the bar. Unfortunately security nabbed him but not before much mirth was enjoyed by all.

A pub crawl entered the hotel after a bit and what was a small crowd was bolstered into standing room only. The pub crawl members comprised of four divisions of a local hockey team. And one fellow in particular shared our table and his jug of spirits.

Conversation flowed as did the booze and after one toilet stop I emerged to find Tucker up to his eyes in women. The fairer sex had invaded our table and after some stilted conversation and a lame joke that went down like a lead balloon (from yours truly) they departed.

They were replaced by an extremely drunken fellow on his bucks night. His friend was very chatty and after a bit the groom was asked to leave. The night after this began to grind to a halt,we decided to pull the pin and as the 'sensible one' (designated driver *grumbles to self*) I drove Tucker to the train station and proceeded home.

All in all a good night and hopefully at the next prayer meet we can get a few more members *raises eyebrows in direction of Verbs and TFS* and get the whole robe thing off the ground.

Dream with me lads, dream with me.

posted by Trojan @ 4/04/2005 10:47:00 PM
3 comments

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

When I lived in Cairns I used to ride my pushbike into town for a night on the turps. Riding it home was always difficult, but ride it home I would.

I always found changing gears the hardest whilst pissed as well as forgetting to tuck in the trouser leg near the chain. Many was the next morning I would awake to find myself bruised and scratched from having fallen from the bike.

One such night saw me rather pickled and attempting to cycle home along a four lane road. I can't recall the name of the road but it connected Cairns to the freeway and was thus an extremely busy thoroughfare. Oblivious to all around me I cycled and sang (as is my wont when drunk) and proceeded to cross two lanes of the road and crash up onto the median strip. This will do for the night I decided and off to beddy byes I went. I don't know how long I lay there but I was awoken by two fellows who asked me if I was alright. I can't recall my response but they picked me up and placed myself and my pushbike in their car and drove me home. I remember them waking me and then nothing till the next morning, Brian, my housemate told me they had knocked on the door and woken him and the three of them put me to bed and placed my bike downstairs.
Whilst enduring an horrendous hangover I discovered my wallet missing, I scoured the house and could not find it, and as I was preparing to curse my saviours the phone rang and the manager of one of the pubs I had been too told me that he had my wallet. Someone had handed it in. With the money still in it!

I would like to just say that after this incident I never drank and rode again. But that would be an outright lie.