Barbara Streisand on the Bongos

Well I arrived solo (shock gasp) to met up with friends at a casual town bar on Saturday night with fresh red lips and hair looking flawless. The evening temperature was a calm 20 degrees so lots of people were very keen on being out on the town and obviously not concerned about catching genital hypothermia with their skirts creeping thigh high!

So I walk upstairs and locate the birthday girl who looked stunning and got a fee waived from the OHA, because it was after all, her 21st birthday party. I greeted her properly and then made my way to the outside veranda where two of my members were mingling with other guests from the party.  I hydrated myself with a delicate summer wine and inhaled a few cocktail spring rolls for my dinner, whilst catching up on the latest gossip. Speeches were announced and carried out, then it was off to the bar for another drink.

Now part of me thinks, there must have been a 'tradies' convention at this establishment because the general uniform was dreadlocks, checked style shirts and cheap beer-in-hand. They were everywhere! I was on the dance floor and some random approached me making it known to my attention that I smelt amazing (thanks to Britney). Well sweetie, this I already knew, but i probably didn't need to know the weather forecast that you left on my shoulder with all the slurring and spitting you were doing! Thankfully one of his neanderthal friends grunted out to him and he disappeared to do damage elsewhere.

The DJ was absolutely hitting the right notes with some sweet tunes although I probably could do with not hearing 'Barbara Streisand-Duck Sauce' for quite sometime....and 20 minutes later our little friend is back to slur over my other shoulder! Yet again tells me how awesome I (still) smell and thinks it is acceptable to start bump'n'grinding me to the beat of the congo drums our little DJ friend was bashing on. I made an obvious BOLT to the other side of our dancing circle and try to make it obvious that his chances of touching me is about as likely as a Eskimo living in Wagga Wagga.

"WHO'S UP FOR SHOT'S" Candy yells in a ladylike manner and the OHA members flocked to bar like seagulls to a hot chip. The bar man blended up something delicious which he poured into shot glasses, covered with and orange slice and lit on fire whilst sprinkling cinnamon on top (which created a 'sparkler' effect) and the group squealed like excited little school girls. Meanwhile, I had previously organised for the resident photographer to document the occasion because sadly my camera had decided to call it a night.

The male testosterone was going into overdrive and it felt like we were a big, juicy lamb carcass at feeding time in the zoo. They were pouncing on us and circling in from all directions with crazy looks in their eyes and I waited for Kelly Rowland to stop Working IT and the group exited to the bar. We decided to have more vanilla vodka shots at the bar (which would double as a Valium) and make our way downstairs where we would dance a little longer, the hideous closing lights would come on and we would try to hail a taxi to move on to the next club.

Standing out the front waiting for a lift, the crowds hear a "BOMMMF.....BANG.......DOOF" noise and we turn to see a pedestrian that has been hit by a taxi driver!! In a dramatic display of courage, one of my fellow members, throws his jacket towards me a skips in a fast fashion towards the human speed hump lying in the centre of the road. He heads back towards the group 5 minutes later telling everyone he'll be fine and we choose to take one of the taxi's in the cue whilst others are distracted.

The next venue provided much alcohol, entertainment and generally good people watching, but can I just send a warning to the size 26 dress up gaga in silver sequins (who looked more like a disco ball) ....?? If Candy EVER has to be subjected to a gyrating saltbush 2 metres away from her dancing space, there will be a nasty price to pay and 12 months imprisonment to wear faded denim, elastic waistband jeans. NO BAIL.

All I have to close with tonight is that the 'shot fairy' appeared in my conscience again...about 7 times to be exact and had her way with my mouth and mind.

Lets say a prayer that Candy woke up alive and makeup intact! xx