Recent discovery. Jottings of a leaver who chose Allen Park instead of Rotto. (And Allen Park would be better than Dunsborough, which was a toilet BEFORE the toolies arrived). Person X.
Decided to forget Rotto and Dunsborough and party at Allen Park.
7:30am. Set up tent Allen Park.
7:35. Look for drunken sluts. None spied. Not even MLC girls, who frankly could make the 20 minute journey in Dad’s RRover.
8am. Still no sluts. Read Paul Murray’s column from discarded West. Who the fuck is Idi Amin? Possibly connected to Kevin Rudd. Kept copy of column in pocket so I can ask the cunt if I see him.
8:30 am. Slut shortage really starting to bite.
8:32 am. Lumbering slob appears with dog, smelling of old farts, stale chardonnay and BO. Dog’s hygiene even worse. Consider fucking dog and slob. Put off by smell. Ask for cash to buy piss. Get lecture on multanovas.
9am some sluts from St Hildas finally turned up, but I had been put off by Murray and his dog. Still fucked ’em, but you know, was still put off.