Dorm Daze

For something like six months, Dorm Budddy Karl and I have been shuffling our shrapnel from fob pocket to moneybox. One of those big moneyboxes with a $50-note motif around the outside that you can't get into without an old-timey can opener.

On Tuesday, we borrowed an old-timey can opener from Bec at FHM, then skipped merrily to the Commonwealth Bank on Castlereagh, where they have an exciting change-counting machine. In the end, our effortless toil resulted in $69.95. Just 5c short of a round figure. Karl asked the teller if the bank would be generous. Instead, he withdrew 5c from my account to make up the remainder.

Laughable, but fitting.

Anyway, we took our cash in the form of seven $10 notes. Last night, we hit Scruffy Murphy's to spend it. $6.95 chicken schnitzels? $7 jugs of Toohey's New? $7 jugs of Snakebite? Fuck oath.

(Snakebite is a mix of Bulmer's cider, grenadine, XXXX Gold and lime. It's incredible.)

We were joined, eventually, by a Canadian fellow named Tyler, who designs videogames for a living, looks kinda like that bloke from High School Musical and had no idea where he was. Conversation was had until that fateful moment when...Drag Queen Karaoke began.

That's pretty much the point at which the night became truly awesome, and worthy of our dorm savings. There's a family of nuff-nuff regulars, you see, whose performances called to mind the appeal of Victorian-era freak shows. Or Australian Idol.

Honestly, those talent shows should all include a pair of old-tart drag queens hurling abuse at borderline retards. And handing out tokens for free jugs of beer, of course.