Tentatively titled: "I went to Splendour in the Grass on the weekend... What have you done?": Part 1.

Much like Australian band Youami´s latest offering, this post is to be considered a comeback post for this blog, which has been recently put its place by a younger, cooler equivalent in the form of www.brad-rules.blogspot.com ala Davey Lane´s side project The Pictures. Much like The Pictures, brad-rules, while good in content, has still a bad case of "little brother syndrome" or even, and after a few appearances at Rove and a small national tour will rightfully return to its place. Below the original.

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The weekend started unlike most weekends, most weekends start on Saturday, this one started ten minutes before 6am on Friday. I awoke to a call from Nina, confirming that she would pick me up in 20 minutes. I got up, put on my mildly offensive tracksuit pants reserved for long trips in Brads car and ate some stewed apples.

The road trip commenced smoothly until we reached the Harbour Bridge when the following conversation took place.
"Do you have your ticket?"
"No."
"Are you serious"
"Yeah I don´t have it"
"Can I just say before we go back that your're a fucking wanker"

After a brief return stop, we were soon rocketing across the bridge to pick up Perth and the Notting Hill area of Perth´s finest en route to The House of Brad (intentionally capitalised), in which five people would squash into what has been previously been called The Spruce Moose (1998, silver, two-door Mitsubishi Lancer).

The rest of the drive preceded smoothly, with stops at the Big Banana and Oyster widely acknowledged as respective highlights.

Upon reaching Byron Bay, we checked into the surprisingly well furnished Bunkhouse Hostel, in which it was declared that the only appropriate way to celebrate our arrival would by aggressive and obnoxious drinking.

During this period the following things were observed:
- Milo rides a girls bike, this is only further accentuated by the fact that he has a basket on the front of it.
- Cheeky Monkeys ("Restaurant and 3am Party Bar") has 15 beer taps, all of which serve Tooheys New.
- 12 males, all from Brisbane, singing a Rancid song to each other:
"When I fall back down, you're gonna help me back up again" (while pointing at each other and hugging)
- One of said Brisbane males falling off a table.
- Another Brisbane male helping the first male back up again.
- $2 pasta is rubbish.
- The official nightclub MC/public relations renegade coming over to our table: "Alright guys!.... Eating pasta, fish and chips, beers... All good... all good."
- The best person to guard your wounded body after a comical run in with a large bouncer is always someone who was given the highschool nickname "Fagmullan"
-There are actually people around who use terms including (thank you urinal conversations at Cheeky Monkeys):
"You are a loose cunt on the cans"
"All the boys are fired up for a big one. We´re a fucken slick unit this weekend"
"I'm gonna get so fuck-eyed on the doofers this weekend"