A big Roman weekend!
Daaaamn! What a weekend! (think of the 'Damn' as if a black guy with a huge afro was saying it).
I've just rounded off one hell of a weekend. The beach was pretty impressive on Friday, and the pub afterwards kicked the weekend off nicely, but damn! (think of the black afro dude), last night was craaazy. Basically there was a toga party, and yeah, there was a LOT of beer consumed and in some cases far too much flesh being shown around. Again, it was basically Meyer that was one of these chief fleshy offenders, however the 'large' dude with only a towel around his waist for a toga came a close second.
After lying in the sun all day Friday and then drinking the night away that night, the idea of getting myself organised enough on Saturday to actually go out and buy a sheet for toga-crafting was simply beyond me. In an apathetic epiphany, I instead decided that two Aussie flags, gaffa taped together, must be the best damn toga in the world. A couple of knots later and BAM!, I was toga'd up!
So without getting too deep into the details, the night was fantastic. On the way there I bought a stack of beer for Paul and myself thinking "there's no way we'll drink all this", but I was very very wrong. Something like 25 or so pints passed between Paul and my lips, with a few shots for Paul thrown in for good measure. My Aussie-toga concept was met with rave reviews from many people and particular 'cool points' were awarded for the gaffa tape. Regarding the picture below -> yeah yeah, I've got a hairy chest, deal with it Paul!!!, but also we were joking about Paul having man-boobs, so that explains the position of my right hand (well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it!)
Other people were obviously far more experienced in the art of proper toga making and had them fully pinned into shape etc with accessories, but pfft!, who likes those people anyway?? One guy must have fully rented one or something because it was immaculate and had a belt etc included. What a geek.... ! Other notable mentions were a couple of girls who stole their toga-sheets from the hospital where they work, and various people accessorising with curtain rope type things for their belts (complete with the tassels on the ends). Paul seemed to think that laurels and girl-y earrings were a good combination, you can judge that for yourself.
I had actually planned to head home on the tube, but quickly lost track of the time and missed the last one running. While several people offered conflicting advice on which night bus to get, I decided that as they were so drunk, I couldn't possibly trust any of them to be accurate, and because I was so drunk, the chance of me actually following their instructions correctly was equally remote. So there was only one thing for it, and that was to drink on up and just party on through the night. There was a lot of talking, some dancing, the occasional top-up of beverages and a meeting a whole stack of new people. A great time all round with the house being totally packed out. This toga was such an eyesore, I thought it deserved a photo.
Reports have us eventually crashing out somewhere around 5am on mattresses and surfacing again around 10am. Being nice guests, we even hung around and helped clean up the house before heading out for a full breakfast (mmm... eggs, bacon, sausages, beans, mushrooms, hash browns etc) at a cafe down the road. While eating, we gradually pieced together all the random stuff that happened during the night such as:
* a girl claiming 160 quid was stolen from their purse (well, she left 160 quid sitting in a wallet, inside a handbag unattended under a table) and sobbing hysterically out the front of the house for like half an hour,
* the brother of said girl sifting through other people's wallets and purses trying to find the money and randomly accusing people of stealing,
* one of the beds in the house being knocked flat when a few guys jumped onto it,
* me gang tackling Paul in the hallway of the house after he said something stupid (go figure, Paul said something stupid and got hurt... must be Paul luck!)
* Paul getting his toenails painted bright pink with nice purple smiley faces on them,
* someone setting a pack of Doritos on fire by leaving the packet near a candle.. those things went up like a roman candle!,
* two doors (well, a handle and a lock) getting busted by people crashing through them,
* someone breaking out a couple of vertical slats supporting the banister of the main staircase when they slipped coming down them, and
* seeing Jesus sitting next to me drinking! - or maybe it was Dave Callan (check the photo, he's actually a guy from Kalgoorlie living in the house, but the Jesus jokes were flying around all night).
After getting lunch I headed home for a shower and change of clothes etc. From there I hung around for a couple of hours, then headed off to the pub again for further punishment to meet CK, Paul and some of the party people. Everyone was a little slow at first, but once the first drink was successfully downed, things quickly picked up again. Another 5 hours of drinking and I'm finally home, feeling absolutely knackered but loving it all the same.
So it's been a huge weekend and now I'm gonna crash out. Catcha's all soon.
Anka
I've just rounded off one hell of a weekend. The beach was pretty impressive on Friday, and the pub afterwards kicked the weekend off nicely, but damn! (think of the black afro dude), last night was craaazy. Basically there was a toga party, and yeah, there was a LOT of beer consumed and in some cases far too much flesh being shown around. Again, it was basically Meyer that was one of these chief fleshy offenders, however the 'large' dude with only a towel around his waist for a toga came a close second.
After lying in the sun all day Friday and then drinking the night away that night, the idea of getting myself organised enough on Saturday to actually go out and buy a sheet for toga-crafting was simply beyond me. In an apathetic epiphany, I instead decided that two Aussie flags, gaffa taped together, must be the best damn toga in the world. A couple of knots later and BAM!, I was toga'd up!
So without getting too deep into the details, the night was fantastic. On the way there I bought a stack of beer for Paul and myself thinking "there's no way we'll drink all this", but I was very very wrong. Something like 25 or so pints passed between Paul and my lips, with a few shots for Paul thrown in for good measure. My Aussie-toga concept was met with rave reviews from many people and particular 'cool points' were awarded for the gaffa tape. Regarding the picture below -> yeah yeah, I've got a hairy chest, deal with it Paul!!!, but also we were joking about Paul having man-boobs, so that explains the position of my right hand (well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it!)
Other people were obviously far more experienced in the art of proper toga making and had them fully pinned into shape etc with accessories, but pfft!, who likes those people anyway?? One guy must have fully rented one or something because it was immaculate and had a belt etc included. What a geek.... ! Other notable mentions were a couple of girls who stole their toga-sheets from the hospital where they work, and various people accessorising with curtain rope type things for their belts (complete with the tassels on the ends). Paul seemed to think that laurels and girl-y earrings were a good combination, you can judge that for yourself.
I had actually planned to head home on the tube, but quickly lost track of the time and missed the last one running. While several people offered conflicting advice on which night bus to get, I decided that as they were so drunk, I couldn't possibly trust any of them to be accurate, and because I was so drunk, the chance of me actually following their instructions correctly was equally remote. So there was only one thing for it, and that was to drink on up and just party on through the night. There was a lot of talking, some dancing, the occasional top-up of beverages and a meeting a whole stack of new people. A great time all round with the house being totally packed out. This toga was such an eyesore, I thought it deserved a photo.
Reports have us eventually crashing out somewhere around 5am on mattresses and surfacing again around 10am. Being nice guests, we even hung around and helped clean up the house before heading out for a full breakfast (mmm... eggs, bacon, sausages, beans, mushrooms, hash browns etc) at a cafe down the road. While eating, we gradually pieced together all the random stuff that happened during the night such as:
* a girl claiming 160 quid was stolen from their purse (well, she left 160 quid sitting in a wallet, inside a handbag unattended under a table) and sobbing hysterically out the front of the house for like half an hour,
* the brother of said girl sifting through other people's wallets and purses trying to find the money and randomly accusing people of stealing,
* one of the beds in the house being knocked flat when a few guys jumped onto it,
* me gang tackling Paul in the hallway of the house after he said something stupid (go figure, Paul said something stupid and got hurt... must be Paul luck!)
* Paul getting his toenails painted bright pink with nice purple smiley faces on them,
* someone setting a pack of Doritos on fire by leaving the packet near a candle.. those things went up like a roman candle!,
* two doors (well, a handle and a lock) getting busted by people crashing through them,
* someone breaking out a couple of vertical slats supporting the banister of the main staircase when they slipped coming down them, and
* seeing Jesus sitting next to me drinking! - or maybe it was Dave Callan (check the photo, he's actually a guy from Kalgoorlie living in the house, but the Jesus jokes were flying around all night).
After getting lunch I headed home for a shower and change of clothes etc. From there I hung around for a couple of hours, then headed off to the pub again for further punishment to meet CK, Paul and some of the party people. Everyone was a little slow at first, but once the first drink was successfully downed, things quickly picked up again. Another 5 hours of drinking and I'm finally home, feeling absolutely knackered but loving it all the same.
So it's been a huge weekend and now I'm gonna crash out. Catcha's all soon.
Anka
posted by Anthony Hawke at 1:39 am
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