Last weekend, 6 old friends drove to a remote Coromandel bach for a weekend of hard-drinking, bullshit-talking good times only possible when partners stay at home (no offence!).
It was a brilliant, save the PS2 plug non-compatibility SNAFU. The best bits were:
– The fridge:
– Unashamed, unapologetic and unmuffled farting was definitely on the menu. Mixed blessing, this one, in fairness
– Meat and potatoes was the order of the day, cuisine wise. I did cop a load of flack of buying Rosemary at the supermarket, though
– Winning the golf was nice – Coromandel golf course is a neat little track, and they didn’t mind us playing as a six
– The sunset on Saturday:
– Especially heartwarming to see the chaps quickly revert to a pack mentality once we started playing Mexican, descending like wild dogs on anyone DARING to drink with the wrong hand, use first names, or caught making false accusations (if you’re my Facebook friend you can see all the action). I didn’t even get my usual ‘dice hate me’ hammering, and all liquids enjoyed stayed on board. That shit’s beautiful
Massive thanks all around, esp the providers of said bach. Looking forward to next year alright.
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