The day certainly began with a bit of alarm when my friend Hugh, clearly agitated, came running over. I thought something awful had happened, until I saw the smile on his face. He informed me that he'd spotted a giant sperm on the way to work. This was clearly something that needed investigating - for the sake of the blog, of course.
He was kind enough - between laughs - to give me directions. It was, indeed, a giant sperm and you can't really have a bad day after that.
With the Wellington Sevens - a bawdy, uproarious rugby tournament of sorts - in town, I was speechless for much of the day. I believe I had a permanent OMG look stencilled to my head. I hasten to add that all these pictures were taken before lunch. I'm not brave enough any longer to venture out at night into the jungle occupied by these creatures.
The Droopers "girls" were standing proudly, their saggy goods on display. They were watching their decidedly more feminine counterparts flashing their wares, perhaps showing them how it should be done.
Identities have been altered to protect the not-so-innocent by night from their hugely embarrassed morning selves.
The whole town goes slightly mad for the weekend. The rugby - the seven aside version - is completely secondary. The advertising campaign for Tui beer, known for its sarcastic barbs (see below), has a billboard on the way into town proclaiming, "Sit down in front, I'm trying to watch the Sevens. Yeah, right."
The guys renting this camper van have caught the Tui spirit and that of the Wellington Sevens weekend perfectly.
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