The grumpy bird catches a turd

Hazel's kicking up her heels at her 20th anniversary school reunion with her friends The Burp and The Statesman. On account of me never going to my own school reunions, there was no way in WA I was gonna go to hers.

That's until, swanning out the door, she explained the reunion was in a pub and that Burp's other half, the Rooster, would have attended if he and I could have absconded to another bar and drunk beers.

I hope that by the time the 30th anniversary of her matriculation rolls around Hazel remembers this decade-long maxim: Reunion bad. Beers good.