Yep, the Nips managed to lob a wedge 130m into the hole for an Eagle on his way to a 4 over-par 76 off the stick. Handy. What he won't mention is how cocky he was on the 9th as he lobbed the ball within a cuppla metres on the par 3... he had already written the skin down, but I reached into his bag, took out his pitching wedge and lobbed it well inside. Skin: Luke. Birdie: Luke. OK, he also got a birdie but who cares. It should be noted that his 43 points, 4 over off the stick effort was after he started the round tearing up cos I suggested a 9 handicap was closer to the truth than his self-handicapping of 15. Off 15 he would have scored about 3,000 stableford points. And MAYBE won the skins... which he didn't. Beware the Nip.
The tiger-esque effort was, however, balanced out by the sight of opening the toilet door and seeing his bloodnuttedness "sitting" on the toilet, pants down (thankfully), dribbling something about struggling, and vomiting into the crotch of his own jeans. On the inside. I can't remember eating salsa but there it was, spread evenly over his bonds jocks and g-star jeans. Glorious. DAMO! TURN AROUND! THE TOILET IS UNDER YER ARSE! THAT IS WHERE PEOPLE ARE SICK! It made breakfast more fun though as he picked the dried bits out from under his watch...
You have never seen someone so excited to have their photo taken with someone else. He came up to me, said he had heard about my tipping comp, was sorry he couldn't be in it but wanted to have a photo taken with me. Doesn't he look thrilled? I of course told him how much I loved him AND respected him. His feet weren't as big as I assumed they would be. I told him the whole 'clown' thing was just a joke - he seemed to take it in good spirits. He didn't ask for my facebook id though which seemed strange although maybe he already knew I didn't have an account. Also in action were Pettifer and Nathan Brown. Pettifer is as talented as he is beautiful. Neither of them asked to have my photo taken with them. So I had another beer.
To be fair it had been a big day. We had gone to the St Kilda Festival thinking we'd keep it quiet. We finally find a pub that you didn't have to pay to get into. The beers start. The Mess Hall are playing the main stage but well... we'll miss them and just catch You Am I... A few more beers and we look over... who do we see...?
RICHO!!!!!
You have never seen someone so excited to have their photo taken with someone else. He came up to me, said he had heard about my tipping comp, was sorry he couldn't be in it but wanted to have a photo taken with me. Doesn't he look thrilled? I of course told him how much I loved him AND respected him. His feet weren't as big as I assumed they would be. I told him the whole 'clown' thing was just a joke - he seemed to take it in good spirits. He didn't ask for my facebook id though which seemed strange although maybe he already knew I didn't have an account. Also in action were Pettifer and Nathan Brown. Pettifer is as talented as he is beautiful. Neither of them asked to have my photo taken with them. So I had another beer.
In the meantime the Nipster began drinking at a pace that can only be described as Glacial - which makes his later purge all the more bizarre. It isn't taking the truth too far to say that the climate change lobby have started measuring the speed of change using his beer drinking pace as a guide. Their current measure is that within 14 Nipster beers, St Kilda will be 3 foot under water.
You Am I came and went... without us... I think... and I am guessing some more beers were drunk. Apprently there was a game of cricket on the telly. And the Dogs beat the Lions. Although I do also remember a small glass of something coming clear my way. Taxi. We assume. Another pub. Order a pizza... slow walk back to the Nips where an angry pizza delivery dude has been waiting for 15 minutes. Jeez they are IMPATIENT eh? Quiet beverage or 2 more. "Luke... I think I need to go to the..."
The rest is history. He is still picking it out from his jeans. Nice.
The rest is history. He is still picking it out from his jeans. Nice.
There was of course some Rock n Roll. Yep the Mighty AC/DC rocked hard in front of a crowd that seemed to think they were going to watch Collingwood in one of the very few games they are not playing at the G this year. It felt like I was walking into a Prelim Final with all the Black n White faithful. The stench was of filth. The combined crowd IQ = 231. The hair was either everywhere or nowhere. Or both. Scientists should move away from the diggings and go see the Acca if they want to find the missing link - there was a complete chain of them. While it is true that only half of the crowd still had their day-release ankle bracelets, thats only because the other half had managed to somehow break it off - the police are still searching. But straight up, they rocked. Classic after classic. Gold. Gold. Gold. OK, the obligatory new album stuff provided ample opportunity to grab a brewskie, but other than that.... GOLD I tell you... GOLD!
Richo sends his love to you all.
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