Shoey @ Bluey’s

This post has come pretty quickly after the last one I know but we had a bit of a sketchy night after work so I thought I’d share it with you all.

Me and Nay worked our first shift together which went as swimmingly as you can imagine. Not very busy… pretty steady for a Saturday night actually so the night went off without any hiccups. Anyway, a Canadian girl we work with called Leanne has befriended a local named Brooke who was going to somebody’s leaving party at the local recreational club. We were invited to go along but me, Nay and Leanne were working so we said we’d meet up with them later on after work. Fast forward to the end of the shift and the leaving party had relocated to a house across the street. Game on. Me and Nay had to go to the party without changing or washing so we smelled like pizza and had our work uniform on. How cool are we?

We got some introductions out the way but it soon became apparent that nobody really knew each other. I think Brooke had just invited random clusters of people to this party. We still never found out whose house we were actually at… anyway we drank some wine and after a couple hours we had to relocate again. We were sold a promise of moving to a better house with a pool. Pool party?? Everyone was up for that. First things first though we had to get there. Some guy at the party had a van and he said he’d give us a lift down so me and Nay jumped in the back and sat on the wheel arches. Peachy keen. Not for long though. Next thing we know loads of people are stuffed in the back with us and we’re off.

It was an easy way to get to know new people mind you, you know, with the fact you’re in everybody else’s personal space. Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

After the hectic drive listening to Darude’s Sandstorm we arrived at our final destination. Now it wasn’t the house with a private pool that we were sold earlier on in the night, it was more of a campsite chalet type thing with a communal pool.

I’m out.

A lot of Aussie’s have difficulty understanding what we say so we end up kinda like a show pony saying certain phrases and words that they all seem to love. Any way to make friends I guess. It was like any other standard party at first, drinks flowing, standard chat and all that up until we were challenged by some locals to do a “shoey”. “You’ve gotta do a shoey at Bluey’s” they said. It’ll be fun they said. Basically, it’s a shit rhyme to go with the fact the nearest beach is called Bluey’s and it involves drinking a beer out of somebody’s shoe. Sounds grim doesn’t it? To be honest there was something enjoyable about drinking a warm beer out of somebody’s trainer. Really makes you feel at home in Australia. We’re now definitely one of the LADS. LADS. LADS. LADS.

There was a guy knocking about who was asking people to whip him and various other things. This is him having his head wrapped with tinfoil and cling film. Strange those Aussies. Imagine our horror when loads of them were claiming that they drink more than Brits. We’re in a country that doesn’t serve shots after midnight and the bars close at 2am??? Get down to K2 on a Saturday night mate. Then we’ll see who can drink.

We signed off a few hours later. Nothing else to mention really. I woke up with a shocking pain in my hip/leg though, if you’re arsed.

Thanks for reading.x

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