The season's over boys and now we're left with this sick feeling in our collective stomach. Where do we take it now? What do we do? How can we live a life where we don't see each other? I must admit, I'm getting emotional.
It casts my mind back to when I was a 17 year old young man, out on the prowl. It was the summer of 1999 and I'd gotten my licence in July of that year. My best friends and I used to go for a drive, still relishing our newly found independence. We'll say for privacy purposes that Shooter and Nuts were there names and we were a 3 man wolf pack. Hunting down car boot sales and wine tastings, being fierce young predators of the female variety.
Shooter was a baby faced 5ft 6in womanizing monster. An avid fan of the Stargate television series and obscure sports like Lacrosse he had an air of mystery about him that the ladies liked, or more correctly several of the ladies liked. He often took to the dance floor to exhibit his cat like manoveurs with the crowd that such agile and quick motions deserved. One time we snuck into Rooty Hill RSL while they were hosting WSFM's Jukebox Saturday. Shooter danced from 9:30pm to 10:15pm without even stopping to grab a complimentary soft drink. Like I said, the dude was a party animal.
Nuts was more of a rotund, less elegant mass that enjoyed bad food and even worse women. He preferred to adorn himself in garish garments and radically overstated novelty items like liquor branded belt buckles. His weight proved no issue in his mind and thus he strode about in a gnome-like wimsy. Nuts struggled with the English language and tended to speak in grunts and other garbled tones that neither Shooter nor I fully understood but we let him tag along because if it was only two of us, we'd look like massive fags.
As Shooter was the trend-setter amongst us, he brought us countless items of interest that were ahead of the curve. Like way ahead of the curve! Like the first day of kindergarten he wore a hypercolour t-shirt. At first everyone was like, "What the fuck is that????". 4 Years later the rest of the world new. He had Reebok Pump baby booties, the guy was just that far ahead. This took him far as by his 20th birthday he'd become Karl Lagerfield's new muse and was once pinned down in an Swedish Snow Cabin by both Dolce & Gabbana. Anyway, this one day he brough us our most prized possession, the very first CRAIG DAVID CD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now I am not for swearing or taking the Lord's name in vein but this particularly day I screamed something about goats, Jesus in a fluoro jumpsuit and a rumoured guy named George who can do 4 situps per second. Shit was crazy!
Now you may say that it didn't come out til 2000 but that is how far ahead of the curve, young Shooter was. For the next 3 months we drove around in Nuts' Nissan Exa playing Craig David at the loudest possible volume. It was at that moment that Nuts all of a sudden belted out "Took her for a drink on Tuesday, did in the arse on Wednesday". Our jaws dropped and we were amazed to hear his first words. That was when Shooter and I realised we were best friends.
Pictures
It casts my mind back to when I was a 17 year old young man, out on the prowl. It was the summer of 1999 and I'd gotten my licence in July of that year. My best friends and I used to go for a drive, still relishing our newly found independence. We'll say for privacy purposes that Shooter and Nuts were there names and we were a 3 man wolf pack. Hunting down car boot sales and wine tastings, being fierce young predators of the female variety.
Shooter was a baby faced 5ft 6in womanizing monster. An avid fan of the Stargate television series and obscure sports like Lacrosse he had an air of mystery about him that the ladies liked, or more correctly several of the ladies liked. He often took to the dance floor to exhibit his cat like manoveurs with the crowd that such agile and quick motions deserved. One time we snuck into Rooty Hill RSL while they were hosting WSFM's Jukebox Saturday. Shooter danced from 9:30pm to 10:15pm without even stopping to grab a complimentary soft drink. Like I said, the dude was a party animal.
Nuts was more of a rotund, less elegant mass that enjoyed bad food and even worse women. He preferred to adorn himself in garish garments and radically overstated novelty items like liquor branded belt buckles. His weight proved no issue in his mind and thus he strode about in a gnome-like wimsy. Nuts struggled with the English language and tended to speak in grunts and other garbled tones that neither Shooter nor I fully understood but we let him tag along because if it was only two of us, we'd look like massive fags.
As Shooter was the trend-setter amongst us, he brought us countless items of interest that were ahead of the curve. Like way ahead of the curve! Like the first day of kindergarten he wore a hypercolour t-shirt. At first everyone was like, "What the fuck is that????". 4 Years later the rest of the world new. He had Reebok Pump baby booties, the guy was just that far ahead. This took him far as by his 20th birthday he'd become Karl Lagerfield's new muse and was once pinned down in an Swedish Snow Cabin by both Dolce & Gabbana. Anyway, this one day he brough us our most prized possession, the very first CRAIG DAVID CD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now I am not for swearing or taking the Lord's name in vein but this particularly day I screamed something about goats, Jesus in a fluoro jumpsuit and a rumoured guy named George who can do 4 situps per second. Shit was crazy!
Now you may say that it didn't come out til 2000 but that is how far ahead of the curve, young Shooter was. For the next 3 months we drove around in Nuts' Nissan Exa playing Craig David at the loudest possible volume. It was at that moment that Nuts all of a sudden belted out "Took her for a drink on Tuesday, did in the arse on Wednesday". Our jaws dropped and we were amazed to hear his first words. That was when Shooter and I realised we were best friends.
Pictures
The offending CD
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The car owned and adored by Nuts
Fans of Shooter, petitioning for him to star in Clover Moore's biopic "Oh my Lord (Mayor): More of Moore, The Clover Moore Story"
Nuts on his all-grape diet
P.S. Guys, I am debating whether or not to come to Parrot night. Would I be stealing someone's thunder by planning something when something else was already planned? Probably...
P.P.S. I completely got caught up and forgot to mention how I caught up with George
P.P.P.S. Have we all had enough of the blog this year or should I keep going so I can tell the summer tales of Hutcho making out with a dude in his new play while I hit play on my ghetto blaster pumping out Kate Cebrano singing "Kiss me passionately...." at 400 decibels? I think I'll keep going cos that shit will be priceless.
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