Last Saturday night we celebrated the 30th birthday of one of them. We call him Crumbs, because when he eats, he is surrounded by them. It's one of those high school names that i'm sure he would rather forget, but we won't allow that to happen. Our children call him 'Crummy' or 'Uncle Crumbs'.
Michael (his real name) is one of those men that could be described as a gentleman. Quick to listen, slow to speak. Educated and intelligent. A talented musician, a creative thinker, a speaker of French and a lover of real books (he is a librarian in one of our countries oldest libraries). He rides a bicycle on the weekends and quotes Leunig wherever possible.
It was in his honour that we ate and drank countless beers (okay, I counted mine).
As afternoon turned to evening we told stories of days past while simultaneously attempting to appear cool. You know how these inner city pubs are, everyone's a hipster.
Happy 30 Crumbs. You fit right in at The Duck Inn.
OMG- did you see the real Theif Urban in there? Hold the phone, I think I see this dude. Oh no, wait. It was just a Glass Onion*. Who wouldn't name drop with friends as talented as these?
when your besties are babes
* please note that this is both tongue in cheek and me being stoked for my friends. I'm only partially a wanker. not a total wanker.