The Church



Me and the rest of our social netball team did some end of season bonding and went to "The Church" last Sun, for a couple of drinks...

If you've never heard of the Church before then you've been under a fairly big rock, it's basically a right of passage for antipodeans and all the horror stories of drunken carnage and nudity always seem to make their way back to parents on the other side of the world. Basically, you're filed into a hall with sawdust on the ground, given a bag of beers to tie to ya belt and you proceed to drink yourself stupid while dancing to music, listening to a crap comedian and watching a stripper rub herself all over some punter in the crowd.

Stef was on cloud 9 after he saw that they served VB:

Nic had never tried VB before I think, and by the looks of things after Stef gave her some, she'll never try it again:

Grant wasn't too pleased with his Fosters for some reason, some cheeky baastard might have put sawdust in it or something... I was quite happy to stick to Kronenberg:

Grant also went in his typical netball gear:

The Church employees dozens of very huge security guys to "take care of us" and "maximise our enjoyment". Here's one such guy (I called him a pussy and made him kiss my beer covered shoes just to put him in his place):

Right, so after drinking steadily for about an hour, they send out the comedian. The last time I went to the Church was well over a year ago and I swear that this guy... the same comedian, telling the same totally shiit jokes that not even downing a whole bottle of vodka and inhaling a weather balloon of laughing gas would make you snigger. Just part of the charm I guess, such as getting everyone to sing along to this:

Now, after falling for the trick of having to buy more beer to drink myself stupid to get over the "comedian" (hack, cough) we where treated to the stripper. Again, I swear it's the same one I saw well over a year ago... and she wasn't too pretty back then either:

After all that, we decided to do something entirely original and drink ourselves stupid while leaping about hugging each other and babbling incoherent sentences that where all totally hysterical from memory:

The moment of truth arrived, where right at the end of the afternoon's festivities, all the drunkest chicks in the crowd are invited to get up on stage and, um, well, "dance" for the guys in the crowd. All the guys yell out things like "OH, I DO say, you ladies look lovely" and "Careful, dear, you don't want to wiggle around so much that you strain a muscle!". Certainly nothing like "OI, GET YA TITS OUT":

I was very proud of us all by the end of it, only Grant had a run it with the cops, and they where both chicks, so that makes it OK:

It was off to the Walkabout in Shepherds Bush after, where all memory fades and the ability to usefully operate a camera is equivalent to catching greased pigs with no arms (I'm sure Ian has tried that before).

One wee hiccup along the way was when Stef (I think) accidentally pulled the emergency alarm down just enough to halt the train... now you know who to blame when you hear driver announcements that go "Due to a passenger emergency, we will be held at this station until the sun goes supernova".

Go to the Church, it's good for your soul and God will love you for it.

By Tony Baker: email