Welcome to the City of Al Bundy

My 2nd last weekend in oz was spent in the fertile Murray Riverina, warming the house of newlyweds Dickman and Anita. Some of you will remember that I couldn't go to Paul and Sarah's wedding, so I went on the honeymoon instead. I think I went one better last weekend: On Saturday night, Anita slept on the couch, and Dickman and I slept in the marital bed.

This is Dickman, with the cat scans of the brain cyst that was detected two weeks before his wedding. The black bits are ex-brain. Nobody has noticed any difference in Dickman.

Actually, he first noticed there was a problem the morning after my Swedish party, when he suffered a headache which seemed disproportionate to the amount of alcohol he'd absorbed. Anyway, he's had an operation and all is well now.

Twas a fun weekend, the backseat bandits were reunited:

we sampled some of the local goon and coon:

saw many exciting and acrobatic displays of nipple crippling

Late Saturday night, a pillowfight broke out

Things escalated very quickly, and some larrikin, some loveable scamp, tried to throw a couch onto Duke and Casey.

Certain members of the community thought that was taking things too far. Not me, I had big plans for the coffee table.

Next day we went down to the river and buggered around, floated on lilos. Rural bliss!

This next pic is from Sunday afternoon driving home, shortly before a freaking huge storm hit, and freeway traffic was slowed to 50km/h because vis was little more than 20 metres:

I got a cab home from Nth Sydney. The cab broke down in the overtaking lane of the Pacific Hwy, in a dip which had a river flowing through it. Had to wade out in dark stormy traffic and hail another. Convenient.

The group:

Luke, Olly, Nicole, Dickman, Anita, Nick, Pete, Alison, Casey, Me, Alex, Fro, Gus, Liz, Mandy