From Kevin to Crabs

Last night I went from seeing this chap



To this chap



Let’s just say my Wednesday night was rather eventful. Kevin was in good form as he gave a lecture at the The Sydney Institute. While the speech was largely about his policy on childcare he did question the benefits generated from Howard’s economic boom, or should one really say the commodities boom. Nicely delivered. It made me hanker for a scotch finger biscuit and a cup of tea.

After an hour listening to Kev I took the 432 and bussed it to Glebe’s Friend in Hand pub. Last time I was at the pub, a copper dog warned me via text to be careful. Indeed the cops call it “A fist in the head”. The place didn’t strike me as dangerous. Filled with 20 year olds and backpackers, we were all there to watch the crab racing.

And what a show it was.

Given that fund manager Tyndall, is the only advertiser in my magazine, I thought it only fair that I called my crab Tyndall. It was one of the winning three. But the ‘fun’ didn’t stop there. All finalists, us, had to enter into a competition where we were required to eat a sao dry and then whistle into the microphone. I managed to eat my sao in minutes but couldn’t whistle. We lost.

The evening included a series of races and audience participation – This included hoola hooping by the women (my mate Victoria did a superb job), balloon blowing and a six pack competition among the blokes.

This is when the evening came to a distinct close. Unfortunately one bloke made it up on the bar. He proceeded to take off his clothes. As he stood up on the bench wit just his jocks, a barman came up and promptly pulled them down. His testicles were in full display.

Let’s just say I prefer looking into the face of Kevin Rudd rather than a bloke’s nuts.

Enjoy my pics!


The crab track is set


Ready set go!


Tyndall takes the lead


Vic does the hoopala


Jason enjoys a beer


Ann wins the balloon popping comp..and a t'shirt!


Punter wears a friendly t'shirt


Night nears its end