Lizard Piss and Racist Drinking Games

So on Friday myself and a few others had a spontaneous trip down to south Brisbane where some mates live to have a couple drinks. It was kinda late and the lads that were already there had long before started drinking so as new comers, we had a little catching up to do. At this house hold lives a severely disabled blue tongue lizard going by the appropriate name of Crush. We believe he was run over by a bike and has his entire back collapsed upon him. Its miraculous that he can he can even breathe I mean he isn’t that good at it but he can. When I first acquainted myself with this little reptilian fella probably over a year ago along with anyone else that has met him, I thought he should be euthanized immediately but after time has passed I’ve come to think he must have got used to his limited lifestyle. we played some drinking games(Crush not included although he probably could have used a few), talked some shit and then I’m assuming after he popped into conversation we got Crush out of his tank and placed him on the table to hang out with us. Understandable as a near road kill victim being stared at by seven humans, Crush felt a little anxious and uneasy. When he was picked up to go back to his tank Crush cheekily urinated all over my mate Luke’s hands (the lovely lad on the right) and even more hilariously got some drops in someones Summersby and on some of the playing cards we were using. as young spirited lads we didn’t want to miss the opportunity of utilizing this misfortune. First we had the idea of shuffling the cards, licking the backs and the loser would be the first one to taste something funky but they didn’t dry out enough and some of us, myself included were surprisingly a little reluctant to taste lizard piss. We ended up just making up a regular drinking game (Probably been done before somewhere, I’m not trying to claim copyright) where we just grabbed a card each for every person playing and made one black and the rest red then shuffled em round spread out across the table and everyone would just pick one at random and the loser had a shot, simple shit. the catch was this game was none other than what i would describe as racial karma. sounds delusional i know. there was 5 of us playing, myself, Mao: cambodian descent, joe: descended from one of the other asianses, Blake: aboriginal and Jack or in this case Cracker Jack, my fellow Caucasian. this night there was a lot of race related banter. one of my favorite jokes of the night was my own where i want up to Blake and said “oi remember when you didn’t invent guns?”(classic i know). its natural shit talk. We do it all the time, calm down, jeez but anyway i shit you not but 9/10 times (it would have been more than that but I’m never going to know the actual fraction) the black card went to either myself or jack. there was no way this game could have been rigged. No matter where the cards were placed on the table any player could have picked anyone of them. this was mysticism at its finest, i swear to Vishnu. i was okay with this because it let me catch up to everyone who had already been drinking but jack was off his titties and in the classic off your titties spirit jack mischievously poured some Sommersby into one of the wines, i think it was Joe’s but being poor and having the decency to always accept free alcohol, i may have drank a few unfinished drinks that i was offered. people find it amusing to feed me alcohol which i see as a win win situation usually. when we recollected in the morning i’m not sure if i did drink the pee, there’s no evidence, we were all beyond our sharpest its only one word against another but for the sake of the story lets say i drank some pee. imma wrap it up by saying a big cheers to Friday nights and may they always be entertaining.

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