ISLAND MICK'S 40TH - Part III

Left to right: Some Janice (the ruiner of my arse), Swifty (Just a heads-up, mate – Stoof has got the restraining order paperwork underway and it should be with your lawyer sometime this week), my dear girlfriend Stoof

Hahahaha… cars

Drink, astarad, drink! Thanks to Island Mick for opening his house to us, and for his instructive Responsible Service of Alcohol seminar

Later that night, it was ear drinks and Masonic handshakes all around

They were a motley crew, with filthy mouths and bad attitudes.

For those that are interested, the rest of the night's photos can be found here.

All good things must eventually come to an end and at 4 or 5am, I called it a night and passed out in the tent Heidi had graciously brought for us.

Sunday – OH GOD, WHY DOES MY HEAD FEEL THIS WAY?

It would have been about 9:00 am when we woke up. Without any fucking around, I started to pack everything up as quietly as possible. Soon enough, everyone was awake and standing around watching us prepare to make our move.

Janice, Lunch, Jonesy and the Stolen Child

Uncle rocked up just as we were finalising the MT for flight. He regaled us with stories of the wedding he couldn't avoid the night before, then called us all arsehats for having fun without him.

And then we went home. Straight back up the Hume in one foul boring drone, stopping only for fuel and major meal breaks.

And as if they could read my mind, the Road Gods greeted our return to Sydney with a hearty load of rain – the perfect end to a stinking hot day.

It was pure fucken bliss.