Jenny and I rode the GS500 to Kensington on Saturday in order to toast Roberts' 27th birthday. Ross and Olga will share in that exquisite pleasure that is gaping at Hall and I in our bathers. Of course, they should already know that the most accurate way to judge time is by the Roberts-Beer method.
Plumbing has come some way since Todman avenue days: Roberts and I took turns to urging each to perform pool-tricks for treats.
Terrible cast by Roberts here.
Darlinghurst's Lord Roberts kept the food and beers up to us until mid-night and then we were thrown out because every barman worth his salt knows what happens to JB after midnight.
Robets vividly describes the day's harrassment. (Very animated; so funny!)
The lads and I pose after our lengthy struggle with pool.