Hakoah, Stan and Monty Python

Grandad German's birthday today. I complained to Stan that there were so many BETTER things to do on a Friday night. He said "Name three". But frankly - hanging at Hakoah with a bunch of grandparents? One: The Internet.

So he came round to keep me company, since his house is like five minutes thataway. We walked through the nostalgic part of Bondi beach and talked toot, chewed the fat and all that shit. If either of us smoked, we would've been smoking. Twas good to catch up.

You're not allowed to bring bottles into Hakoah, because they're licensed. My family gets told off for it every time, and every time they bring a bottle. This guy came up to tell us we weren't allowed, so the wine bottle got put under the table and Great-uncle Leon swiftly appropriated the whiskey. It was actually very good whiskey, inasmuch as I don't like whiskey - better than the stuff at Rubin's wedding. Speaking of which, they turned up coincidentally - well, I mean, friday night at Hakoah, some Russian Jewish family gathering is likely to be happening. Apparantly Rubin Junior asked my dad how expensive kids were, so we can expect new babysitting opportunities in that direction sometime soon. Actually, written down, that sounds kinda funny - like buying children. Mheh.

( Like Monty Python! ~this is long~ )

Also, I appear to have some kind of minor blood problem. Bleeding at random orifices is not cool. That's three times in two days. Yesterday I got a nose-bleed while laughing in Ensemble, sprayed blood all over my hand. Not like it lasts long, so it's presumbly a capillary thing, it's just bloody annoying (no pun intended).