On the anniversary of September 11, the Pleasure, pretty much on time at the ridiculous time of 6:37am Sunday morning, met at The Camel ready to tackle the Leopards and get some payback from our Muslim friends.
As it was a must win game for the Pleasure, the bus trip to the ground was spent;
None of these things would eventually happen, and we pray the last one doesn’t either. Plus, we welcomed our new English school teacher from Kenya via Taiwan, Andy to the team. Basher #183.
So, with a full team and Bugs not having to call up anyone’s ‘one night stand’ this week, (a bit of a shame), we arrived at the ground. Everyone got into their pregame rituals and warm-ups, such as Loose downing his second Pure Blonde before 8am, the Rock being late, and the most interesting and fortuitous being Tank’s circle of the oval moving all the cones back two metres (should have settled for two yards Tank). So, to the field we ventured… (more…)
When all the players and the bus are on time at the Camel, it’s a good start. Unfortunately, it may have been the highlight of the Pleasure’s Day!
The bus ride there was great; cheerleaders Aimee Collins and Filthy in attendance; full esky; Tony owning a bar and whinging about a hangover; a bus driver that knew where he was going; everyone in high spirits defying the Sunday 9am start. (more…)
How would you feel if you shagged Pamela Anderson, then you found out she has hepatitis?
If you are Circus, no worries! But for the rest of us, there would be a mixture of emotions; satisfaction would become anxiety, boasting would accompany ridicule, spraying your load like a fireman on his first day at work would be a distant memory replaced by a penis that is slowly falling off as you urinate a cheese like substance that can only be found on a 6 month old (***** name withheld) pie and/or sausage roll.
What the f*ck am I talking about? Well…
With the Bashers’ fully loaded city bus express, chauffeured by Shanghai Transport Service’s equivalent of a metro-sexual, heading straight for Bashers’ Beach, the scent of victory and Lambrusco was thick in the air. The ride itself was mainly uneventful, if you don’t count the fact that it was decided by unanimous vote that next year’s Bashers uniform would basically be designed by Dolce and Gabbana (scarves, handkerchiefs and cummerbuns…please).