Wasn’t it a beautiful Christmas break (unless you were Malcolm Turnbull who continued to look weak and impotent to do anything about continued destabilisation from Bernardi, Christenson and Abbott)? After a weekend that was hotter than demand for inner city property in Hobart, it was a grey cloudy evening for our first game back (although still much brighter than Susan Ley’s future).
Ominously we were up against the DC’s who earlier in the season had torn us apart like East Timor ripping up the treaty over Australian access to its oil reserves this week. And we were nearly down a penalty try before the game started as my top was proving as hard to find as Turnbull’s principles (although I still expect to find it later so maybe not quite as difficult). Luckily the Steczosaurus came to the rescue and brought a spare for me.
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