"Well, my name's John Lee Pettimore..."

Half-cut and loathe to watch Waratahs vs Chiefs on my lonesome, I foisted myself on PB and saw it with him and top fella D. at Albert's in North Sydney, where I also developed a liking for West Indian cricketer Viv Richards' professed fave tipple: Mount Gay Rum and dry. From there, we migrated to The Oaks in Neutral Bay, collecting PB's good lady wife VB and their friend M. along the way. At some point, we wisely switched to imbibing dihydrogen monoxide and split a few delicious pizzas. More rugger was viddied, I struggled to co-ordinate a pool cue, and I suspect I bugged all and sundry by playing Steve Earle's "Copperhead Road" on the jukebox and loudly singing along. Twice. Doubtless I woulda continued repeating the offence if the pub hadn't shut. The 'Tahs won 11-7, by the way, which is the important thing.