Tuesday, January 30, 2007
WHEN THERE'S JUST TOO MUCH GROG IN THE WORLD, YOU HAVE TO DO YOUR BIT........
Bloody typical.
The internet goes down and all this exciting stuff happens.
First things first, we have been experiencing a bit of shuffling around at our house as Cam is moving out before flying out to England, I am moving into his room and a new housemate is moving into my old room.
Her name is Gemma and she'll be studying film production this year, seems nice enough.
So the week has been one long period of moving things around, sorting out bills, etc.
Oh and watching the hens of hell peck at pigeons.
They managed to bail one up in the chicken coop earlier in the day and wouldn't let it out.
At least they're taking prisoners now and not just killing outright.
I went and had a wee chat with my pelvic surgeon last Thursday.
I was expecting, or hoping to have my right leg's weight bearing status bumped up to 75%.
When I heard the surgeon exclaim that it looks 'really excellent' and that I can start walking on that now, I nearly fell off the bench.
He reckons that the union of the pelvic bones is looking really healthy, the parts he left without bone grafts were starting to unite and that the bone graft on the femoral head, which my orthopaedic surgeon had operated on was also looking very healthy.
What all that means in plain English is that I can now talk to my physiotherapist about formulating a plan to start using one crutch, then none and eventually returning to unassisted walking.
So here's to getting my walking licence back. 'clink'
It's only been over ten months.
The next day my good mates Matt and Trent had arrived for a three night stay with some more of that Tasmanian Cascade Red goodness under their arms.
Needless to say, there's wasn't much in the way rest for those three days and nights.
We started off with a barbecue at my place on Friday night, where we managed to fill up an entire rubbish bin with empty cans and bottles.
That night the boys decided that they shall go exploring to find some sort of establishment which sells beer for profit.
They did eventually find a 'bar' and enquired as to whether the old hag behind the bar was still selling beer.
Her answer was no, but that she could sort them out with some ladies of the night.
I think Trent summed it up best when he stated that even though they were totally off their chops and near legless, wearing the best beer goggles they could get, the offerings were still atrociously ugly.
The next day, after getting ourselves into some sort of presentable state, we headed off to another barbecue at Bec's place.
Consuming more alcohol, we enjoyed the wonderful food Bec had prepared.
I must say that her five salads certainly gave me an inferiority complex as all I'd managed the night before was just one lonely example.
Eventually the boys and myself found ourselves in the Lygon Street area and picked out one Italian restaurant, out of the many Italian eateries on offer, to have dinner at.
Knowing fully well that we would need all our faculties to be functioning to some extent the next day, we looked at each other with an agreeable stare and declared that we will go easy on the grog.
So we had a couple of beers, which turned into a bottle of wine, which turned into another one.
At that point we resigned ourselves to the fact that for all our good intentions, we were none the less hopeless drunks and were really just kidding ourselves in thinking we could moderate our intake that one night.
So we met up with Gino and his missus Mel and proceeded to that pub where bad beer is sold.
Having arrived at the Empress, the beer and wine in our stomachs were joined by some shooters that Gino felt were necessary to complement the grape and hop products already making their presence felt.
Not long after that, I ordered some Belfast Car Bombs, thinking in for a penny, in for a pound.
For those not in the know, that drink consists of a half pint of Guiness into which a shot glass containing Bailey's and Irish Whiskey is dropped ( or Kahlua as well, actually there are a few different variants of this part ).
The whole lot is then dispatched with one fell swoop.
Easiest way is to open your face by throwing your head back and pouring the drink straight down the gullet, then closing your face before any of it tries to make an effort to escape.
The next morning we once again spent some time getting ourselves into a relatively presentable state and trying to kick start our battered brains using more beer.
This seemed to have the desired effect and we headed on down to join 45,ooo people at the Big Day Out for a day of music, music and more music.
Oh and some beer and stuff as well.
It was a pretty good crowd and there were only 4 people hospitalised, 3 arrested and 2 evicted.
So in the next few postings I'll try to give a detailed account of how the day and night turned out.
Mainly because I just can't be arsed doing it now :p
Following the Big Day Out, we then found ourselves a pub and seeing as the clocked ticked over into Monday, celebrated my coming into the world 32 years ago and the fact that I was still here and able to celebrate at all after last year's runnings in with semi trailers and trams.
The internet goes down and all this exciting stuff happens.
First things first, we have been experiencing a bit of shuffling around at our house as Cam is moving out before flying out to England, I am moving into his room and a new housemate is moving into my old room.
Her name is Gemma and she'll be studying film production this year, seems nice enough.
So the week has been one long period of moving things around, sorting out bills, etc.
Oh and watching the hens of hell peck at pigeons.
They managed to bail one up in the chicken coop earlier in the day and wouldn't let it out.
At least they're taking prisoners now and not just killing outright.
I went and had a wee chat with my pelvic surgeon last Thursday.
I was expecting, or hoping to have my right leg's weight bearing status bumped up to 75%.
When I heard the surgeon exclaim that it looks 'really excellent' and that I can start walking on that now, I nearly fell off the bench.
He reckons that the union of the pelvic bones is looking really healthy, the parts he left without bone grafts were starting to unite and that the bone graft on the femoral head, which my orthopaedic surgeon had operated on was also looking very healthy.
What all that means in plain English is that I can now talk to my physiotherapist about formulating a plan to start using one crutch, then none and eventually returning to unassisted walking.
So here's to getting my walking licence back. 'clink'
It's only been over ten months.
The next day my good mates Matt and Trent had arrived for a three night stay with some more of that Tasmanian Cascade Red goodness under their arms.
Needless to say, there's wasn't much in the way rest for those three days and nights.
We started off with a barbecue at my place on Friday night, where we managed to fill up an entire rubbish bin with empty cans and bottles.
That night the boys decided that they shall go exploring to find some sort of establishment which sells beer for profit.
They did eventually find a 'bar' and enquired as to whether the old hag behind the bar was still selling beer.
Her answer was no, but that she could sort them out with some ladies of the night.
I think Trent summed it up best when he stated that even though they were totally off their chops and near legless, wearing the best beer goggles they could get, the offerings were still atrociously ugly.
The next day, after getting ourselves into some sort of presentable state, we headed off to another barbecue at Bec's place.
Consuming more alcohol, we enjoyed the wonderful food Bec had prepared.
I must say that her five salads certainly gave me an inferiority complex as all I'd managed the night before was just one lonely example.
Eventually the boys and myself found ourselves in the Lygon Street area and picked out one Italian restaurant, out of the many Italian eateries on offer, to have dinner at.
Knowing fully well that we would need all our faculties to be functioning to some extent the next day, we looked at each other with an agreeable stare and declared that we will go easy on the grog.
So we had a couple of beers, which turned into a bottle of wine, which turned into another one.
At that point we resigned ourselves to the fact that for all our good intentions, we were none the less hopeless drunks and were really just kidding ourselves in thinking we could moderate our intake that one night.
So we met up with Gino and his missus Mel and proceeded to that pub where bad beer is sold.
Having arrived at the Empress, the beer and wine in our stomachs were joined by some shooters that Gino felt were necessary to complement the grape and hop products already making their presence felt.
Not long after that, I ordered some Belfast Car Bombs, thinking in for a penny, in for a pound.
For those not in the know, that drink consists of a half pint of Guiness into which a shot glass containing Bailey's and Irish Whiskey is dropped ( or Kahlua as well, actually there are a few different variants of this part ).
The whole lot is then dispatched with one fell swoop.
Easiest way is to open your face by throwing your head back and pouring the drink straight down the gullet, then closing your face before any of it tries to make an effort to escape.
The next morning we once again spent some time getting ourselves into a relatively presentable state and trying to kick start our battered brains using more beer.
This seemed to have the desired effect and we headed on down to join 45,ooo people at the Big Day Out for a day of music, music and more music.
Oh and some beer and stuff as well.
It was a pretty good crowd and there were only 4 people hospitalised, 3 arrested and 2 evicted.
So in the next few postings I'll try to give a detailed account of how the day and night turned out.
Mainly because I just can't be arsed doing it now :p
Following the Big Day Out, we then found ourselves a pub and seeing as the clocked ticked over into Monday, celebrated my coming into the world 32 years ago and the fact that I was still here and able to celebrate at all after last year's runnings in with semi trailers and trams.
