Banned From Parraween Street… FOR LIFE!!

After being involved in yet another case of public mischief in Parraween Street on Saturday evening, it appears Miss Contradiction and myself may be banned from the street for life.

Miss Contradiction got wind earlier in the week that there was going to be an invaluable celebrity stalking opportunity on Saturday. Apparently some movie was premiering there or something. The details aren’t important. What is important is that an opportunity presented for us to make a spectacle of ourselves. We seized the opportunity with both hands.

We rocked up there about six, both already plastered. I had been drinking at the new and improved Kirribilli RSL all afternoon and gambling with Kelvs (as a side note, I took fixed odds on Zipping for the Cup tomorrow). Miss Contradiction had apparently been at the hairdressers all afternoon, but still somehow managed to be drunk.

So we stopped in at the BWS to grab some booze to take with us. Miss C insisted on buying some fucking fancy bottle of wine, despite me pointing out the logistics of drinking wine in the middle of the street. Wouldn’t something in individual bottles prove more appropriate for drinking in public? You’d think so. Miss Contradiction instead asked the bottleshop staff if we could have tasting glasses – you know, those little plastic ones. They couldn’t find any so instead presented us with two big, heavy, glass beer mugs that came with some promotion.

We wandered across the street and hung out with some old people, who clearly wanted us to get lost. I am getting tired of typing, so to sum up:

• Miss Contradiction tripped over one of our brand new mugs and smashed it everywhere.
• 80-year-old Kelvs drove past in his car to see what all the fuss was about and we started woohing and cheering like he was a celeb.
  
• There was a cute dog called Oscar who was excited about all the action who we were terrorising.
• I started yelling at Big Brother evictees to “get back in the house, we don’t want you here”.
• When Cate Blanchett arrived, I held up the dog and yelled “Hey Cate, do you want an Oscar”.

Then we pissed off back to the hole and ended up having Absinthe shots and more wine. Not surprisingly, I was passed out by 7.30pm.

Yes, we are very classy people.