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Last weekend I headed to Maitland Gaol to embark on something called a team building day with a bunch of people I work with. It sounds like it was a real party in there, with blokes offering up their coights with little fuss. It truly is a fascinating tour, and I highly recommend it. After that we listened to a motivational talk from Paralympic gold medalist Kurt Fearnley.
Now, being born with only half a spine and a set of legs as useful as a Labor politician would suck, but life in a wheelchair has its benefits. In fact, the passion veered close to aggression, and I got the impression that old mate would beat the shit out of me if he knew that my only goals in life are to eat as many sausage rolls as possible and have sex with Magda Szubanski.
Next up was an epic game of laser tag through the gaol. I was nearly mad with sobriety, so I ordered three schooners and downed them in short order, my hands finally steadying as the booze flowed through my system. Deadset, these blokes had it all β skinny jeans, boufant hairdos, crap tatts and lady-drinks in their hands. Fucking hell, what a bunch of gronks.
After a time, one of the chaps I was with came up to me looking somewhat concerned. I used to party until six in the morning, but we bailed at around one, and I spent the train home trying to pick up a group of overweight year-olds. It was great to be out with a top bunch of people, but give me a box of cheap wine, some nachos and a Charles Bronson movie any day.
I drink heavily, travel the world while almost getting killed, paraglide, and occasionally entice a lovely lady back to my castle. Low on money, overflowing with beer. View all posts by Rowan C. Like Like. Skip to content. More like stellar-bosch, yeah! Doring: not boring! Everyone loves pineapples! Hog Wild! Running to Lesotho Lesotho is remote, oh! Hot foreign backpackers who laugh at my jokes and not at my penis?