It is a Sunday morning and Graham is very busy being offended. He is at the beach and it’s early because that’s the best time to get there he always says. It’s not too hot yet and not madly crowded. These things are true but he takes no great satisfaction in this because he has seen three young men (and one pot bellied middle aged fellow who has really let himself go) wearing t-shirts or singlets that feature the logos of beer brands. Bintang. Heineken. VB for God’s sake. And one of the younger blokes, the slightest of the lot of them, he’s gone with Jim Beam. And why not? wonders Graham in a sarcastic voice in his head. Why the hell not wake up and put on a shirt that celebrates a toxic substance that you possibly over indulged in last night or some time anyway? Because that’s lovely, to wake up and think about drinking straight away. And these drinks, Good Lord. These guys in the t-shirts are so clearly bogans and proud of it. Graham decides then and there to get a t-shirt printed that says ‘Hunter Valley Semillon 2005’, which – if he recalls correctly – was a very good vintage. Nice one, he thinks. Graham is a plonker alright, but he’s in a better mood already.

Cannylass

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