Golden Point, Albion Street is located on the western slope with the alluvial gold field of White Flat along the Yarrowee Creek and Sovereign Hill on the top of the Whitehorse Range to the east. We met and prepared under the repaired carport.
GLIDER is seems was the only one amongst us that took seriously last week’s flippant suggestion that CRISS CROSS’S run should be a cross dressing affair. So like Bridget Jones turning up in a playboy bunny suit, he attended in a cutesy netball skirt (definitely not a candidate for the knicker less netball team that attends Black Tie Nights). His curly black head merkin was very reminiscent of a PRECIOUS mop.
The run, as per last year, headed ON ON over the precipice of the dead end street down toward the creek then right back toward the east over Gnarls Barkly Street up Brad Shaw past the bowling club to Bill Laurie Boulevard, Gladstone Small Street into the lower reaches of the Peady Street Reserve where BAD HAIR DAY takes his dog. ROWDY and PEBBLES were overheard talking bird shit about pies on their way up to Magpie Street.
At Sovereign Hill CRISS CROSS confused himself on his own run, as an educator who lost his way he lead us toward to the brink of “STUDENT ENTRY” and then pulled out before it was too late. (The Comfort Inn and Student Entry signs are surely too close together.) He claimed to be so smart he outsmarted himself but it could be that even a fool can fool a fool.
ON to the ample Drink Stop where you marvel at the ease of Bree’s because you can’t trust British paint’s anymore (they knew of Rolf’s behavioural trait but brushed over it).
What a great view from atop Golden Point over the lights of City and the flats of Ballarat East. ROWDY religiously recognised many church steeples, something he aspires to. MOUNTY said would have liked to have seen a big deck out the back, PEBBLES set off running but stepped on it and tripped. ON home to lovely soup and croutons, a table a girl could re-lie on and a warming mini fire.
Welcomes Back to FASCINATOR, PEBBLES and timely return of Christmas Carol.
BEER FUCK couldn’t screw the run because he missed it. Arrived late, went to get beer from the Grapes, tried to catch runners, badly sprained his ankle, limped back to home and grilled Two Dix on Drink Stop location. Drove to Magpie Street, couldn’t find the pack, drove back. Another nominee for an award to rival FMs locked key in car sequence of events with NORMAL. He had to run (LIMP) and get his reading glasses as he had been booked for the gig of chorus reinforcement for the Criss Cross song about folking bikes on the top of his car meeting with his carport, twice! – set to Melanie Safka’s famous folk song. Mountie even picked up on the visual hint about the line “Some people say that I run like a girl”. He now rides Two Dix but has been known to fall off.
BENT slipped in to Sergeanting the soirée. DUMB and DUMBER was reunited with his infamous Doggy Bowl Down Down
MRS D, LOIS, BP, FM, MOUNTIE got into PMT girls gabble, something about a trivial win or my klun win. They won one once again with their trivial pursuit.
NUMMY has a vestigial Harris on an email address so she took the down downs for British paints and for tying kangaroos down.
The fortnightly appearance of SILENT NIGHT (claimed to be the only Carol NORMAL knows) was inadvertently described as coming twice a week on not so silent nights. SOS, it was told, had the flu so Little Boy Blue didn’t come blow his Horn. He may have come had he known there might be a possible TRADESMANS ENTRANCE.
Before we wandered to the Top Eureka for ON AFTERS it was announced that,
Next Week’s Run is LIL EVIL at the Arry Millers Arms Otel on the corner of Doveton and Howard.