Sunday, September 17, 2006
CAIRNS CONT'D (AGAIN).......
So now we're back in town, in search of more booze and some food. We hit PJ's and straight inside for another round of drinks. By that point, it had been a good half hour since our last drink, and that was not to be tolerated. Straight to the back of the pub and hit the pool tables, pint of Kilkenny in hand. After a couple of really poor showings at the pool table, our little party was joined by a quiet German fellow named Berndt. He was apparently staying in the hotel upstairs and wanted to see what all of the commotion was about downstairs. He found us, playing really bad billiards with tiny sticks and sunglasses. Berndt had just arrived in Oz from Japan. He was about 2 weeks into a 6 week holiday, of which he would spend the last 4 weeks riding a rented BMW motorcycle down the East coast of Australia. Vielen Gluck, Berndt. Was time for food, definitely. We went to this little upstairs Mexican restaurant off of the main drag. The service was pretty ordinary, but the food was good. Almost everything I tried to order, they were out of. No Dos Equis beer, no cactus, no chorizzo.....cripes! I settled for Sol beer, some chicken dish that ended up being alot like a mole' (which was really good), salsa verde, and queso dip. It took ages to get, but was tasty and the table was out on the balcony. I once again contacted meine Fraulein Nina, but she had a big one Friday night (that I missed), and she was staying in due to an early dive the next morning. So, we paid our bills and departed for Gilligan's. Saturday nights are always big at Gilligan's. The line to get into G's was probably an hour and a half wait. Out the main corridor to the sidewalk, wrapping around and ending about 10 meters down the sidewalk. We were NOT going to wait in that line, no matter how many hotties were waiting inside. Time to try the previous night's haunt, Shenanigans. We ride into Shenny's and the place is pretty empty. A band was playing the best of the sing-along tunes and we opted to play some more shithouse pool. Picts below . Things are starting to get interesting after about 12 hours of drinking.
Now we are ready for some excitement. "what about the Woolshed?" someone asks. None of us had ever been there, but RALPH Magazine gave it rave reviews in it's Cairns weekend. What the hell? So we go up the narrow stairwell to a dark abyss of pumping music and wooden tables set up like an old shearing shack. Atmosphere for misbehaving...dark corners and no rules. Dancing on the tables is encouraged! Time to hit the bar and find ourselves a table to perch upon to shake our tail feathers. You see, everybody at work thought I was the quiet, reserved type. Earlier in the day, I got the reputation for being an arsehole who criticizes girls' shoes. Leigh had been talking trash about wanting to dance and would dance circles around us fellas. They don't know me very well, do they? You kiddies know...all of you who have been out with me on one of "those nights". Good music, good atmosphere, good liquor, and some female company...boogie time, baby!! First drink from the bar...beer. Drink half of it and someone else picks it up after we find a table on which to cut a rug. 30 mins hardcore skee-dipping. 2nd drink JAGERBOMB!!! Yes, I said it. I know I have cursed Jaegermeister many times, but it was put in front of me...and it wasn't horrible. It wasn't even that bad. Okay, I liked it! Jaeger and Red Bull as a drop shot...it's the cure for what ails ya! It makes for good dancing fuel as well...sugar, caffeine, and alcohol...it's like rump shaking crack. As the evening wore on, we danced more and did 2 more bombs. At one point, I was forced into initiating a strip tease. I did not go through with it, as I would not want that reputation at work. And at various points, my ample bottom was being smacked by a female hand....I'll not say who, but lets say the pants did what they were supposed to do, even though they were sharply criticised.
About 3am, we all kind of decided it was time to leave. They had played the same songs going on the 3rd time, and the crowd was thinning out. By that point, Ben and I had been on the terps for 16 hours. Scotty did not go to the Woolshed with us, as he is allergic to alcohol and didn't get a shot of Ventolin after we got back from the races. He doesn't carry it, and plans on it lasting for about 6 hours. Trooper for sticking to the piss for about 12 hours even though he's allergic. Not hives and die allergic, just a bit of trouble breathing. He said later that he just ran out of oxygen and had to call it a night. We hit a dirty little McDonalds on the way back to the hotel for some bacon and egg McMuffins....hit the spot.
We all rolled up at about 8:30 Sunday morning as we had to be out of the hotel by 10am. Showers and dress...wait a minute, no hangover, again! This is discerning now. 3 day bender, and no hangover. I used to be a wreck for 2 days after a heavy night on the grog. Time for brekkie. We go and pick the girls up at their hotel to have breakfast and take them back to their car at the racetrack. Eggs, bacon, tomato, toast, and lemon cheesecake for breakfast...mmmm. We take a walk through the Lagoon (remember the Lagoon?) It's pretty empty, as it's only 11, but you can see the early signs of a ripper of a day. Too bad it's time to head back to Townsville in order to make it to the Watermark for the Sunday Session. Drive back...boring. KFC on the way home...grease perks us all right up.
I get to my hotel in T-ville and have a long, proper shower. Then the fellas come pick me up for our 4th in a row (their 5th booze-up in a row). I am dragging arse and struggle to get a beer down. A salmon and caper pizza doesn't help out any. I know I have to get on a plane at 6am the next morning to come to site. I leave by 9am...soft. When the rest of the crew got back to site, I heard they had another massive night...and I missed it. I really should have stayed another night, as I did nothing on Monday here at the mine. I missed a great party, as they started drinking Long Island Ice Teas and went to the wet T-shirt contest at the Cri (Criterion Hotel). One of the contestants tried to molest Scotty, but from what I gather she was a bit on the less than desirable side...like circus freak status. I don't know, I told Scotty he should have jumped on that grenade, as he had been looking for a fun story to tell.
That's the Cairns Race trip, 2006. What do you mean you ran out of beer?!?
So now we're back in town, in search of more booze and some food. We hit PJ's and straight inside for another round of drinks. By that point, it had been a good half hour since our last drink, and that was not to be tolerated. Straight to the back of the pub and hit the pool tables, pint of Kilkenny in hand. After a couple of really poor showings at the pool table, our little party was joined by a quiet German fellow named Berndt. He was apparently staying in the hotel upstairs and wanted to see what all of the commotion was about downstairs. He found us, playing really bad billiards with tiny sticks and sunglasses. Berndt had just arrived in Oz from Japan. He was about 2 weeks into a 6 week holiday, of which he would spend the last 4 weeks riding a rented BMW motorcycle down the East coast of Australia. Vielen Gluck, Berndt. Was time for food, definitely. We went to this little upstairs Mexican restaurant off of the main drag. The service was pretty ordinary, but the food was good. Almost everything I tried to order, they were out of. No Dos Equis beer, no cactus, no chorizzo.....cripes! I settled for Sol beer, some chicken dish that ended up being alot like a mole' (which was really good), salsa verde, and queso dip. It took ages to get, but was tasty and the table was out on the balcony. I once again contacted meine Fraulein Nina, but she had a big one Friday night (that I missed), and she was staying in due to an early dive the next morning. So, we paid our bills and departed for Gilligan's. Saturday nights are always big at Gilligan's. The line to get into G's was probably an hour and a half wait. Out the main corridor to the sidewalk, wrapping around and ending about 10 meters down the sidewalk. We were NOT going to wait in that line, no matter how many hotties were waiting inside. Time to try the previous night's haunt, Shenanigans. We ride into Shenny's and the place is pretty empty. A band was playing the best of the sing-along tunes and we opted to play some more shithouse pool. Picts below . Things are starting to get interesting after about 12 hours of drinking.
Now we are ready for some excitement. "what about the Woolshed?" someone asks. None of us had ever been there, but RALPH Magazine gave it rave reviews in it's Cairns weekend. What the hell? So we go up the narrow stairwell to a dark abyss of pumping music and wooden tables set up like an old shearing shack. Atmosphere for misbehaving...dark corners and no rules. Dancing on the tables is encouraged! Time to hit the bar and find ourselves a table to perch upon to shake our tail feathers. You see, everybody at work thought I was the quiet, reserved type. Earlier in the day, I got the reputation for being an arsehole who criticizes girls' shoes. Leigh had been talking trash about wanting to dance and would dance circles around us fellas. They don't know me very well, do they? You kiddies know...all of you who have been out with me on one of "those nights". Good music, good atmosphere, good liquor, and some female company...boogie time, baby!! First drink from the bar...beer. Drink half of it and someone else picks it up after we find a table on which to cut a rug. 30 mins hardcore skee-dipping. 2nd drink JAGERBOMB!!! Yes, I said it. I know I have cursed Jaegermeister many times, but it was put in front of me...and it wasn't horrible. It wasn't even that bad. Okay, I liked it! Jaeger and Red Bull as a drop shot...it's the cure for what ails ya! It makes for good dancing fuel as well...sugar, caffeine, and alcohol...it's like rump shaking crack. As the evening wore on, we danced more and did 2 more bombs. At one point, I was forced into initiating a strip tease. I did not go through with it, as I would not want that reputation at work. And at various points, my ample bottom was being smacked by a female hand....I'll not say who, but lets say the pants did what they were supposed to do, even though they were sharply criticised.
About 3am, we all kind of decided it was time to leave. They had played the same songs going on the 3rd time, and the crowd was thinning out. By that point, Ben and I had been on the terps for 16 hours. Scotty did not go to the Woolshed with us, as he is allergic to alcohol and didn't get a shot of Ventolin after we got back from the races. He doesn't carry it, and plans on it lasting for about 6 hours. Trooper for sticking to the piss for about 12 hours even though he's allergic. Not hives and die allergic, just a bit of trouble breathing. He said later that he just ran out of oxygen and had to call it a night. We hit a dirty little McDonalds on the way back to the hotel for some bacon and egg McMuffins....hit the spot.
We all rolled up at about 8:30 Sunday morning as we had to be out of the hotel by 10am. Showers and dress...wait a minute, no hangover, again! This is discerning now. 3 day bender, and no hangover. I used to be a wreck for 2 days after a heavy night on the grog. Time for brekkie. We go and pick the girls up at their hotel to have breakfast and take them back to their car at the racetrack. Eggs, bacon, tomato, toast, and lemon cheesecake for breakfast...mmmm. We take a walk through the Lagoon (remember the Lagoon?) It's pretty empty, as it's only 11, but you can see the early signs of a ripper of a day. Too bad it's time to head back to Townsville in order to make it to the Watermark for the Sunday Session. Drive back...boring. KFC on the way home...grease perks us all right up.
I get to my hotel in T-ville and have a long, proper shower. Then the fellas come pick me up for our 4th in a row (their 5th booze-up in a row). I am dragging arse and struggle to get a beer down. A salmon and caper pizza doesn't help out any. I know I have to get on a plane at 6am the next morning to come to site. I leave by 9am...soft. When the rest of the crew got back to site, I heard they had another massive night...and I missed it. I really should have stayed another night, as I did nothing on Monday here at the mine. I missed a great party, as they started drinking Long Island Ice Teas and went to the wet T-shirt contest at the Cri (Criterion Hotel). One of the contestants tried to molest Scotty, but from what I gather she was a bit on the less than desirable side...like circus freak status. I don't know, I told Scotty he should have jumped on that grenade, as he had been looking for a fun story to tell.
That's the Cairns Race trip, 2006. What do you mean you ran out of beer?!?
# posted by K-Fleet-13 @ 11:39 PM 
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Blasphemy, Superman. You were in Beavertown and didn't get to enjoy the home dish? Did Phil get any play?
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