What's that farken smell?

There's something rotten in the state of Mollymook.

Or at least there was last week.

Hell Boy and I were off on our evening stroll along the lovely beach, when we suddenly both noticed the most unimaginable stink on the face of the planet.

And I'm including that alley with all the seafood and cabbage scraps behind the Yum Cha restaurant on Dixon St in that sweeping statement.
And Hong Kong.
Oooh la la, and Paris too, coz it's got it's own rather poopy bouquet that no-one warns you about.

As we detected said stench, we both whipped our heads around to ascertain where it was coming from.


Being a little excitable by nature, I thought it was very possibly a secret colony of incontinent lepers, whereas Hell Boy quickly upped the ante by correctly deducing it to be the foul item hanging over the balcony in that very awful photo.

There can be no other explanation.
I deny that it was the festy little lagoony thing that runs off the beach with all the scum on it a few metres behind us.

Pure filth.

There ought to be a law.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

My off season training is going well - I'm now refreshed and ready and able to detest these cheating pricks for another year.

It's only 20 days until the Back to Redfern game, and from there, it is a mere 20 days until the Charity Shield match.
This year our season tickets include our regular seats for that game for the first time, so I get to sit with Jo, Dom and the bruddas.

Then it is only 2 weeks until the season commences properly and we have to front up and look on as our darling boys play the 17 representatives spawned of the union of the Corporate Whore and the Beast itself.

I'm not quite over the last match, or the one before that, or the one before that, but screw it, I'll just go anyway.
Sitting with the Burrow when they're together with TSE is a very wonderful part of my year.

Funny, funny, funny bastards.

20 days.

woot woot