Warning: This Post Contains Excessive Alcohol Consumption and Bad 80s Music. Read At Own Risk.

Meet Suze.

Although she looks like a homeless beggar from the streets of Sydney, i can assure you that she is, in fact, a semi-intelligent young professional with a husband, a mortgage and a dog. Despite this idyllic existence, Suze has one unfortunate vice - booze.


What I'm about to report is absolute fact. I have not embellished the truth in any way, nor was i responsible for what took place over the course of 5 days several weeks ago, when i first met Suze in person.


But let me start at the beginning.


About a year ago, i stumbled across this blog. And i thought it was hilarious! I read 4 years worth of posts in a very short space of time, and lo, a cyber-friendship was born. Suze and I have been exchanging emails for yonkers, but alas, she lives abroad. So when i found out she was coming home to Oz for a visit, we decided we'd hook up for a real life meeting to see if our online chemistry would translate into reality. How bad could it be, i thought. She seems totally normal.


At approximately 5.30pm on a chilly Monday evening, i received the following text:



"Have arrived in Sydney. Drink?"


Alarm bells should have rung in my head. I mean, who has drinks on a MONDAY? Still, i agreed to meet her. She was on holidays after all, and i felt it was my duty to ensure she had a good time. Despite my fear that she would not be able to negotiate Sydney's complicated train system (being from the country and all), she agreed to meet us nearby our house, and we ended up at a local place for one or two glasses.


Several hours later, we were onto our 6th wine and i was feeling pleased with our meeting. Turns out we got on great, and she didn't seem to have any psychotic tendencies that i could see. But it was clear she could have put away another bottle of grog, so i had to be responsible and cut her off. I had work the next day after all. Obviously it wasn't me AT ALL who wanted to keep drinking into the wee hours. Definitely, absolutely not.


Day two dawned, and i met Suze and her husband Phil later in the day for lunch and a short tour of some places in Sydney that i think are underrated and pretty awesome. Yes, 4 out of 6 locations were drinking venues, but that was purely coincidental. Totally irrelevant. Lets move on. We ended up at what i believe to be a best kept secret in this town: Shady Pines Saloon. Its in an alley way, in a concrete building with a flimsy door and no sign save for an A-4 sheet of paper stuck to the front. But push that flimsy door open and a secret, wild western world reveals itself to you! There's cow heads on the walls, wood shavings on the floor and FREE PEANUTS! That's right, FREE PEANUTS!! Suze ate at least 5 bowls (I refrained myself to just one or two. peanuts, not bowls. I did. I DID!!), and enjoyed several glasses of my favourite concoction - freshly squeezed green apple juice and vodka. We calculated that we'd gotten more nutrients in one night than we'd had all week, which makes it basically a very healthy drink, which is why we tried to have as many as we could, to ensure further prosperous health and so on and so forth. And STILL, the girl drank me under the table.


ON MY OWN TURF.


Her booze addiction is such that she refused to let me leave even the dregs behind in my glass. She'd downed it in one foul swoop, claiming triumphantly that "nothing gets left behind!"


No indeed.


Now these two could have kept drinking, make no mistake about it, but i had to insist on eating before my stomach imploded. Further down the road was another joint i rather like called El Loco, which is a kind of a hastily put-together Mexican place with $5 tacos, cheap frozen margaritas and a hell of a lot of atmosphere.

All these elements put together made us veeeeery happy indeed. I'm not sure if I'm trying to do some sort of half-hearted peace sign in the picture below, or whether I'm telling the viewers at home how many more drinks it would take before i passed out entirely. As for Suze. Well.

Some of us were rather MORE happy than others. It was clearly time for me to leave.

The week continued in similar fashion. We took in dinner and drinks at Table for 20, a great communal dining experience in Surry Hills that's good value for money in this town. Everyone sits at communal tables, and we happened to be seated next to a group who had ambitiously brought about 7 or 8 bottles of wine with them. Of course Suze befriended them immediately, even though we had 2 bottles of our own. She tried to pull the whole "Yes, I'm from the UK, not a local, eager to meet new people and drink their alcohol supply" thing, but they didn't fall for it.



By the time Friday rolled around i was not only exhausted, but had been put to shame in the drinking department. However, it was Suze and Phil's last night so I was determined to put my best foot forward and go out with a bang. I enlisted the help of Jo and my good friend Turnsie, both seasoned drinkers, and we marched onwards to our first location, the Lord Nelson Brewery.


I arrived to find Suze in full disguise. Its no wonder, turns out she owes money right across Sydney.

It was ciders all round to start with, but Suze did not feel they were giving the desired effect.

Enter prune juice.

Well, it wasn't really prune juice. It was some sort of alcoholic, sparkling thing. But it was NOT good. It did get us happy snappy though. Here's the gals, ready for whatever the night would bring. That's Suze's lovely friend Kate, then Boozer herself, then me.

Ah, and here i am again, with my peace signs and my cheery "Holy Crap I'm Drunk!" face. The boys are looking...dapper's not exactly the word...stoned might be more fitting...

Aaaaaaand....yep. It starts to go downhill from there. Turnsie's pointing at his bald head with pride. Jo looks like his straining on the toilet. Phil's giving the "get a dog up ya" sign (apparently quite rude in England, though perfectly acceptable here). And SOMEONE is giving me devil ears. Fun and games abound.

But the fun soon turned sour. At midnight, we were unceremoniously ejected from the pub after Suze and I were discovered in the upstairs toilets throwing toilet paper at each other AND at other patrons AND out the window (she started it.)

But we would not be phased! We took on the streets of Sydney...

...and ended up at the all-time greatest dive in the entire city. That's right. You know it.


The Retro.

I'll caption the following photograph for you:


Suze: "OMG. What!!?? Am i hearing right? You're taking us to the RETRO??"
Me: "Hells yes! We are going to have the best time EVER!"
Phil: "Woohoo! Photo bomb!"

We put on our best sober faces and lined up to be let in. Success! Fast forward 20 minutes and 2 sexy ladies were on the prowl. Husbands? What husbands?

That thing we're drinking was made up of tequila, vodka, tequila, and cranberry juice. How many we had is up for debate. But it made us COOL.

Before we knew it, 80s fever has us in its grips. We were shaking it to 99 Red Balloons, Billie Jean and Living on a Prayer like there was no tomorrow.

At some point, our tribal instinct kicked in. This may look like a common rain dance, but its actually very complicated.

Meanwhile, we made the rookie mistake of leaving the boys to their own devices.

Here's Jo, soaking up some female love.

The place was swarming with henchmen ready to kick out any trouble-makers, but we didn't care. We laughed in the face of danger! Come and get us, we said!

Er. So they did. We got thrown out. OF THE RETRO.


WHAT!?


We were shocked and disappointed.

There's only one place (other than Maccas) open in Sydney at 3am, and that's City Extra. So we hightailed it over there for some late night burgers and chips, our last meal together before our two new friends headed back home. I'm pretty sure this is the last picture of the night. That brothel-red lighting is just the cafe we're sitting in. I mean we're not ACTUALLY in a brothel, no matter what I'm doing with my tongue.


Yep. We're just charming like that.

It was a great visit, and i think i speak for both of us when i say we had a LOT of fun and a LOT to drink. Some more than others. See you next time, peeps!

To Harry, with love

Many, many years ago, a friend tossed me Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone and said "Read this. You'll love it." I remember devouring it in almost one sitting, and then feeling sorry that I'd read it so quickly because it ended too soon. This was maybe three or four years after the first book had been released, so within days i was able to go out and buy the next three installments.



I was an instant fan.

Why this series is so popular, i can't tell you. For me, it was an immediate connection. I loved the characters, i loved the magical world and mythology that Rowling had created, and i loved that there was a whole series of adventures to be had. For some reason, these are the books i find myself going back to when there's nothing else to pick up. It feels like I've read them a hundred times - its been well over a decade since i first picked them up - but i never get bored. Maybe it's a comfort thing - that i know i can escape for days into another world, be reunited with old friends who's lines i know by heart, be sure in the knowledge that good will triumph over evil. Or maybe, in what can be a crappy world, its nice to clutch a little piece of innocence in my hands, and remember what its like to be a kid, wowed by witches and wizards and wands and spells. I know the series gets darker, but still. Love and loss, elation and sadness, bravery and fear - these are all human emotions in the end. Everyone can relate.



When the movies started coming out, i was wary. But i think a real effort has been made do justice to the spirit of the books, even if it hasn't always been possible to relay every moment and character that appears within their pages. And it's been nice to see the magic come alive. I daresay the films are almost as iconic as the books - it's actually hard to read them now and not see Rupert Grint as Ron, or Daniel Radcliffe as Harry. You just can't help it, whether you like the actors or not.



Because the franchise apparently hadn't made enough money off their devoted public, a nice little publicity coup saw the last book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, be split into two halves for the movie/s. I mean. I had to roll my eyes when i heard that. Part 1 AND Part 2? Way to drag it out guys.


Still, after years of watching them, it was (i admit) with a little sadness that my old friend and fellow Potter-lover Turnsie and I bought our tickets for the last time. Since we're suckers for An Event, we decided to farewell Harry in spectacular fashion - we would see Part 1 at 9pm, and Part 2 at 12.05am on its official release date. Naturally, this would mean taking the next day off work. By the time the damn thing finished and i got home it would be close to 3am.

We decided a small tribute to Harry would add a sense of occasion to the proceedings. Thus, Turnsie stole his nieces Official Harry Potter Wand and brought it along. Here I am, conducting an important spell.

Yup, we were proud of our little wand. We thought we were very clever indeed, bringing along a little piece of Harry to celebrate The End, as it was being called. A few people, we decided, would probably do the same - bring something Potter-ish along, maybe wear a cape, or a scarf in Gryffindor colours. Nothing over the top.



How wrong we were.


Our wand turned out to be, in a word, pitiful. I was almost embarrassed by our effort. And we called ourselves fans? For in a dazzling display of all things Harry, the REAL fans thronged outside the cinema in spectacular fashion. There were Harry's and Ron's and Hermione's, of course. There were Voldemorts (some excellent, some downright terrible - painting oneself white and donning a swimming cap does NOT a Voldemort make) and Snapes. I spotted a Dolores Umbridge and a Sybill Trelawney and a Horace Slughorn. There were the fans who decided to go slightly left-field - one girl dressed herself as the golden snitch, another as an envelope addressed to Mr H. Potter, The Cupboard Under the Stairs. And then there were those who wanted to dress up, but obviously had nothing Potter-related in their wardrobes - no problems, they just grabbed whatever they had handy. Bunny ears. Freddy Kruger masks. Angel wings. I'm pretty sure i saw someone dressed as a chicken.



We could do nothing but look down at our measly wand, stunned. So much for THAT idea.

We made our own fun though, in other ways. They had a display of Harry Potter memorabilia from the movies - some costumes, and Dumbledores wand and copies of the Daily Prophet.

And of course, there were plenty of movie posters. In the below shot, Turnsie realises how closely he resembles Voldemort....

...and i enjoy a Bellatrix moment (mainly because Turnsie tells me this is the character i most resemble, what with my being so cold and evil.)

When it finally got around to midnight, everyone was more than a little excited. Part 2 was meant to start at 12.05am. It didn't.


Here's a breakdown of what happened.


12.15am: No movie. Everyone believes this is just a ploy to build tension, and play along.
12.25am: Still no movie. The crowd begins to get restless. Popcorn is thrown, and angry fathers who have to work the next day decide to try and find out what's going on.
12.30am: You guessed it - no movie. People begin stamping their feet and turning their heads in frustration. There are shouts and jeers. We believe a riot will start.
12.35am: Genuine anger spreads through the cinema. Turnsie suggests we start a chant - "Harry! Harry! Harry!" Someone starts a slow clap, and soon everyone takes it up.
12.40am: A young cinema employee enters the room to inform us that there is no projectionist at present - she has been "caught up" in another cinema, and will be here soon. He is instantly booed, but valiantly attempts to continue his speech. He apologises for the inconvenience but, he continues, he will be happy to sell us all tickets to see the 3am session for only $8, should we wish to see it again straight away. Someone yells out that if the movie doesn't start soon, we won't make it to the 3am session even if we wanted to. Cinema employee makes a hasty exit.
12.45am: Crowd now begins to turn on themselves. Teenagers run up and down the aisle in a sugar-frenzy. Cinema employee returns to tell us that Harry will be on our screen in a mere 30 seconds. Hurrah!
12.50am: Movie starts. Crowd cheers. But wait! It's NOT the movie! Its a documentary on the MAKING of the movie! Crowd now in a rage. Daniel Radcliffe appears, telling Australia how thrilled he is that we've all made it to this special, midnight screening. He is emphatically booed. Food is thrown at his face. Now a chant does begin "START THE MOVIE! START THE MOVIE!"
12.55am: Movie begins. Crowd too tired to react.


Throughout both films, we witnessed behaviour that i can only call extreme. Someone yelled out at the beginning of Part 1 "Only two and a half hours until Part 2! YES!", prompting woops from the audience. A girl further down our row was sobbing - sobbing! - when the movie finished. There were crowd-led boos when Voldemort came on screen. Teenage girls screamed when our two male leads took their shirts off (Why?? I've never seen skin so pasty white!!) From cheers and whistles to claps and cries - it was all happening.


While we waited for the movies to start, Turnsie and I made good use of our time. I call this next segment Fun with Wands. You can't imagine all the things one can do with a wand when bored.



You can illuminate your nostril...

...or your pie-hole.

You can use it to practice your blowing-out-a-candle skillz...



...or to brainwash yourself.

You can smoke it like a cigar...

...or lick it like a lollipop.

You can turn yourself into a unicorn...

 

...or stick it up your nose.



You can share it...

...use it to inflict terror...

...or wear it like a moustache.

After all the fun was over, we were faced with the inevitable - the credits rolled and the curtain closed on the final installment of Harry Potter. And it was a worthy ending. There was nothing left to do except say goodbye...

...and I'll miss you.

Hello world, here's a song that we're singing...come on get happy....

Ohhh and how happy we were. A regular little Partridge family of singers. That's right folks - the unstoppable force that is Karaoke has struck again.


I blame our friend Ash. If it wasn't his birthday (how dare he have the audacity to be born), we would never have been out in the first place.


Since he was turning the grand young age of 30, we knew it had to be a good one - so after a few beers at our local after work, we headed to El Loco in Surry Hills for some Authentico Mexicano. We were relieved to see that margaritas and tequila shots were also on the menu, and this, combined with $5 tacos and the best damn fish sandwich on the Eastern seaboard, kept us in high spirits for some time. (Seriously, try this place out some time. Great food, great vibe!)


The only one who was a big fat downer was Turnsie, which is no surprise. Apparently the place was too "crowded" for him, and he wanted to "go home." SHAME ON YOU TURNSIE! BOO!! I want everyone to note, as we work out way through this little adventure, Turnsie's face in the photos. He looks completely plastered in every. single. one.


I mean. At least Lauren and I make a slow progression into indecency. Turnsie skips all that and hits 'embarrassing' within his first few drinks. Happily, the camera was ready to capture it all (BWAHAHAHAHAHA Turns!)

But things start off OK. We start with gentle drinks - designer beer, red wine, very civilised. Everyone's looking pretty good. Jo's still got his tie on. Not a silly face to be seen.

But this facade never lasts. After all, the night naturally progresses. Shots are had. Margaritas seem like a great idea. Look closely at the next two photos: there's only ONE person in both of them who can't keep his eyes open. (clue: his name starts with T and ends with Urnsie.)

And then...well. The next image speaks for itself. What can really be said except oh dear. Of course, Lauren and I are still looking fresh-faced, happy, ready to embrace the night. Turnsie, on the other hand, looks like he's about to vomit.

Things quickly go downhill after that. The boys decide they want to go to the retro, biggest dive in Sydney and therefore one of our favourite places. But the girls aren't in the mood - Lauren says she knows a Karaoke place nearby and I jump for joy. My voice is at its premium after a few drinks, so i was raring to go. And Lauren, sheesh. You practically have to ply the microphone from her hands just to get a turn. I'm surprised she doesn't carry one in her handbag. Turnsie wanted to come with us, but Jo wasn't having any of that...

Except Lauren wouldn't leave without a quick snap with the DJ. (or was that my idea? i really couldn't tell you.) It takes me three tries to get this picture, which i guess was a sign of things to come....

And then we were off! Off to Ding Dong Dang Karaoke Bar, and yes, that is its real name. We were lucky too, because there was only one booth left and it had our name all over it. Unfortunately, the place only sells Tooheys New in a can, but that's OK. By that point, we'd drink anything anyway. By the looks of it, i was very proud of my can(s) (haha).

Then things get blurry. I know that Lauren took charge of the music, and all our old favourites made the cut (Sweet Child of Mine, anyone?). I took great pleasure in hogging the mike, and as you can see, became the embodiment of a true star. I mean look at me. I could be Beyonce.

We had only paid for an hour, but it flew by was to quickly and we knew it wasn't enough. Even Kat, who we dragged kicking and screaming to the joint, insisted we go again. Our voices had warmed up and we were really showing up all the other groups. They had nothing on us.



So we pay for another hour and we're in the middle of setting up an Oasis medley when out of nowhere, WHO should appear???

Turnsie! Like a homing pigeon, he'd found his way back to us. Apparently he'd been "escorted" from the last place he was at with the boys, but the night wasn't over for him yet. It doesn't matter how drunk you are, Karaoke welcomes everyone into its warm embrace.

I was glad Turnsie was there, because he really gets into it. He's got moves I've never seen. Check this out! Not sure what it's called but this move is totally bitchin'!

I don't think we could have taken ANOTHER hour even if we wanted to, but we got our fix and that was the main thing. Who knows when the itch will take hold again, but until then - keep livin' on a prayer people. You know what I'm talking about.