Home again!
My god, what a weekend :)
My oldest mate, Hairy, has gone and gotten himself engaged - and this weekend was the big celebration bash. Given that I've known the man for like, 14 years, he's an alumni of Casa Dilphenstein, and he's still one of the best friends I've ever had - despite us rarely being in the same state or city for more than a few months - I decided that I had to be there for it. Short version - Decision most definitively justified!
Flew up Saturday morning, had my folks meet me at the airport, did some general catching up, christmas shopping, all the usual bits and bobs when you ain't seen folks for a while. Then it was off to Eumundi, for the partay - house bash at Hairy's folks place. Now, I was expecting something fairly low-key and laid back - thirty, forty people, max - something semi-equivalent to the old Dilphenstein parties of yore. I underestimated Hairy and Lee's social networking skills - I heard a count of 140, at one point, and I have absolutely no reason to doubt this. Every bastard was there. And I mean /every/ bastard. I saw a half dozen of my old high school mates; probably 70% of the old droogs; every relative either of them have; at least two seperate packs of Lee's pre-Brisvegas droogs; add on to this the partners/friends/housemates/children of all of the above... and you get the idea.
After a quick runthrough to say hi to the familiar faces - bottle shop run! The ever-generous Whyrl provided the transport, and we experienced the joy of booze-shopping in a sleepy country town. The first bottlo had no Jagermeister; the second one, however, did. And also had Stolichnaya. Score! However, this is only half of a balanced diet - and neither bottleshop had Bull. Neither did the servo. We did acquire Platinum, sub-standard OJ (Juice of Orange is the only true OJ!) beefu and assorted other bits and bobs... but no joy. I was beginning to contemplate turning to the dark side of V, out of sheer desperation - but fate provided. The take-away chicken joint had a half-dozen cans - less than I'd like, but enough for a party starter :) All rations sorted, it was back into the fray!
Dived straight back in, spent a while talking to Melanie and Nikita (old high school types) - they both have kids, now. This makes me feel /old/. My generation is still too young to be shackled! We only left school a little while ago! Honest! Just the other day... no, I didn't know it was our ten-year reunion next week... bugger. I'm old.
Then, it was DroogTime. Bingo, Anthea, Sylvester, Whyrl, Krista, Afro, and Serenia were all in attendance - A solid showing of the Old Guard. After some general catch-up stuff, I'm ambushed by an older lass - who introduces herself as Bingo's mother. Now, as the droogs all know, and anyone who's ever had the privilege of sharing quality time with myself and Bings, very few things in this life give me as much pleasure as telling embarrassing stories about him to whoever will listen. I am one of nature's storytellers, and Bingo is one of my all-time favorite topics. Such classic one-liners as "Get off my bed, or I'll give you head"... maybe I'll type that story up one day, for the edification of all. But yes. Humiliating bingo = fun. I've just been introduced to his mother. Who just so happens to be an evil, evil woman, who enjoys watching him squirm as much as I do...
I do enjoy a fresh audience. And many, many tales were told. And much laughter had. Were the night to have ended here, I would have been content. But the night was still very young. So I introduced Bingo and Whyrl to the joy of the Jagerbomb. And judging from the gobsmacked expressions, and the fact the both joined me immediately in a second - I have corrupted them well. From there, it was a very short step to the Rocket Fuel - it starts as a triple vodka topped with OJ, and as the night progresses, the mix gets stronger...
Speeches were made - one from myself included - on how well suited the happy couple were, how awesome they are, ect; in all honesty, they are one of the best matches I know of in any of my circles. He's the single nicest bloke I've ever known (not to mention the founding member of my army of minions) and she's a distillation of pure awesome. Not a single drop of pretension or falsity in either of them. He's a happy-go-lucky dreamer; and she's practical and pragmatic and likewise gorgeous. They really do deserve each other, and I'm bloody glad they hooked up :)
Then the karaoke machine got fired up, and I spent the next few hours reminiscing with Anthea and Krista, interspersed with new-years planning and SMS conversations with Miralee, the famous kender ski bunny from my 3k days - she's gunna be in melbourne next year, so crashspace has been offered :) It's bloody awesome to have the opportunity to reconnect with the old crews - kinda depressing that it happens so infrequently now, what with the driftage and all, but still awesome. Even more so is the fact that all the connections are still so strong, despite the fact we've all gone in different directions - get us around a table, and it's like we've never been apart. The dynamic is still there, and if any of us was ever in need, ever put out the call... the Droogs would come running. It's a high-risk gamble, but if you ever wanna know who your real friends are, move interstate and don't talk to em for a couple of years. If they're still willing to help you hide the bodies when you come back, then they're keepers!
By this point people had started vanishing; by the time midnight rolled around, there were perhaps 20 people still functional, most of whom were Lee's droogs from her other circles - an assemblage of downright awesome chicks, who I'm still annoyed at Lee for not introducing me to earlier. Drunken ramblage ensued, interspersed with attacks of karaoke - in the end it was the happy couple, myself, and three of said chicks still functional, blathering about the universe. ("That's the best offer I've had all week!" - catchphrase of the night). Got accused of being a horrible lecherous old flirt - which is true; Hairy was mine first, dammit, and his ass is still mine - although I have given Lee permission to have him :) And I do have a tendency to ham it up for unavailable women - which will probably get me in trouble if/when someone fails to realise it as the joke it is... I'm not sleazy! Honest! Well, ok, not /very/ sleazy...
Bout 330, we kill the karaoke machine... about 4, the cops show up to complain about the noise. Yes, the cops got called on us - was all sweet once the guy realised it was already over, but still. We rock! Then it was collapse on couches time, and up at about 8 to help clean up... and bacon. Lots of bacon, and eggs, and awesomeness, and still-hung-over morning-after rambles. Got a ride with Whyrl back to my folks place, then had lunch on the noosa river with the family... then it was flop on the verandah and do nothing until my flight back to melbourne.
The wedding is scheduled for May; I'm already plotting towards it. God knows if the reception is anything like the engagement, I'll be drinking off the stories from it for years to come... oh, and I'll get to see some of my best mates get married to each other. Win-win, right?
My oldest mate, Hairy, has gone and gotten himself engaged - and this weekend was the big celebration bash. Given that I've known the man for like, 14 years, he's an alumni of Casa Dilphenstein, and he's still one of the best friends I've ever had - despite us rarely being in the same state or city for more than a few months - I decided that I had to be there for it. Short version - Decision most definitively justified!
Flew up Saturday morning, had my folks meet me at the airport, did some general catching up, christmas shopping, all the usual bits and bobs when you ain't seen folks for a while. Then it was off to Eumundi, for the partay - house bash at Hairy's folks place. Now, I was expecting something fairly low-key and laid back - thirty, forty people, max - something semi-equivalent to the old Dilphenstein parties of yore. I underestimated Hairy and Lee's social networking skills - I heard a count of 140, at one point, and I have absolutely no reason to doubt this. Every bastard was there. And I mean /every/ bastard. I saw a half dozen of my old high school mates; probably 70% of the old droogs; every relative either of them have; at least two seperate packs of Lee's pre-Brisvegas droogs; add on to this the partners/friends/housemates/children of all of the above... and you get the idea.
After a quick runthrough to say hi to the familiar faces - bottle shop run! The ever-generous Whyrl provided the transport, and we experienced the joy of booze-shopping in a sleepy country town. The first bottlo had no Jagermeister; the second one, however, did. And also had Stolichnaya. Score! However, this is only half of a balanced diet - and neither bottleshop had Bull. Neither did the servo. We did acquire Platinum, sub-standard OJ (Juice of Orange is the only true OJ!) beefu and assorted other bits and bobs... but no joy. I was beginning to contemplate turning to the dark side of V, out of sheer desperation - but fate provided. The take-away chicken joint had a half-dozen cans - less than I'd like, but enough for a party starter :) All rations sorted, it was back into the fray!
Dived straight back in, spent a while talking to Melanie and Nikita (old high school types) - they both have kids, now. This makes me feel /old/. My generation is still too young to be shackled! We only left school a little while ago! Honest! Just the other day... no, I didn't know it was our ten-year reunion next week... bugger. I'm old.
Then, it was DroogTime. Bingo, Anthea, Sylvester, Whyrl, Krista, Afro, and Serenia were all in attendance - A solid showing of the Old Guard. After some general catch-up stuff, I'm ambushed by an older lass - who introduces herself as Bingo's mother. Now, as the droogs all know, and anyone who's ever had the privilege of sharing quality time with myself and Bings, very few things in this life give me as much pleasure as telling embarrassing stories about him to whoever will listen. I am one of nature's storytellers, and Bingo is one of my all-time favorite topics. Such classic one-liners as "Get off my bed, or I'll give you head"... maybe I'll type that story up one day, for the edification of all. But yes. Humiliating bingo = fun. I've just been introduced to his mother. Who just so happens to be an evil, evil woman, who enjoys watching him squirm as much as I do...
I do enjoy a fresh audience. And many, many tales were told. And much laughter had. Were the night to have ended here, I would have been content. But the night was still very young. So I introduced Bingo and Whyrl to the joy of the Jagerbomb. And judging from the gobsmacked expressions, and the fact the both joined me immediately in a second - I have corrupted them well. From there, it was a very short step to the Rocket Fuel - it starts as a triple vodka topped with OJ, and as the night progresses, the mix gets stronger...
Speeches were made - one from myself included - on how well suited the happy couple were, how awesome they are, ect; in all honesty, they are one of the best matches I know of in any of my circles. He's the single nicest bloke I've ever known (not to mention the founding member of my army of minions) and she's a distillation of pure awesome. Not a single drop of pretension or falsity in either of them. He's a happy-go-lucky dreamer; and she's practical and pragmatic and likewise gorgeous. They really do deserve each other, and I'm bloody glad they hooked up :)
Then the karaoke machine got fired up, and I spent the next few hours reminiscing with Anthea and Krista, interspersed with new-years planning and SMS conversations with Miralee, the famous kender ski bunny from my 3k days - she's gunna be in melbourne next year, so crashspace has been offered :) It's bloody awesome to have the opportunity to reconnect with the old crews - kinda depressing that it happens so infrequently now, what with the driftage and all, but still awesome. Even more so is the fact that all the connections are still so strong, despite the fact we've all gone in different directions - get us around a table, and it's like we've never been apart. The dynamic is still there, and if any of us was ever in need, ever put out the call... the Droogs would come running. It's a high-risk gamble, but if you ever wanna know who your real friends are, move interstate and don't talk to em for a couple of years. If they're still willing to help you hide the bodies when you come back, then they're keepers!
By this point people had started vanishing; by the time midnight rolled around, there were perhaps 20 people still functional, most of whom were Lee's droogs from her other circles - an assemblage of downright awesome chicks, who I'm still annoyed at Lee for not introducing me to earlier. Drunken ramblage ensued, interspersed with attacks of karaoke - in the end it was the happy couple, myself, and three of said chicks still functional, blathering about the universe. ("That's the best offer I've had all week!" - catchphrase of the night). Got accused of being a horrible lecherous old flirt - which is true; Hairy was mine first, dammit, and his ass is still mine - although I have given Lee permission to have him :) And I do have a tendency to ham it up for unavailable women - which will probably get me in trouble if/when someone fails to realise it as the joke it is... I'm not sleazy! Honest! Well, ok, not /very/ sleazy...
Bout 330, we kill the karaoke machine... about 4, the cops show up to complain about the noise. Yes, the cops got called on us - was all sweet once the guy realised it was already over, but still. We rock! Then it was collapse on couches time, and up at about 8 to help clean up... and bacon. Lots of bacon, and eggs, and awesomeness, and still-hung-over morning-after rambles. Got a ride with Whyrl back to my folks place, then had lunch on the noosa river with the family... then it was flop on the verandah and do nothing until my flight back to melbourne.
The wedding is scheduled for May; I'm already plotting towards it. God knows if the reception is anything like the engagement, I'll be drinking off the stories from it for years to come... oh, and I'll get to see some of my best mates get married to each other. Win-win, right?