Tag: Brendon Winslow

Been a while since I last blogged but I got me a good excuse for at least a couple of those weeks that felt very much like a dream.

This blog ain’t exactly a Cancer Chronicles post but it does cross over so bear with me please while I try paint you a picture of some strange times of late.

With cunty cancer having played a massive part in our lives over the last year, one of my oldest best mates I don’t see often enough offered to fly over from New Zealand and shout me to State of Origin II. With the Australia/New Zealand bubble recently open that was now a real possibility.

I’m like ‘Fuck yeah! Keen as!’ and my first wife is like ‘Yes, of course you can go and enjoy, you handsome young devil you,’ and I’m like ‘Fuck yeah!’ again and louder.

I don’t like spending too much time away from my cook nowadays but figured a night, or even two at a stretch could be accommodated.

Now, I call my mate Scotty but his actual name is Michael, Michael Scott. He’s got a couple of bucks this fella; or at least enough to shout me to a footy game with the inevitable gallons of grog that come with it. He’s a good cunt like that. A bald good cunt.

For confusion’s sake I’m gunna call Scotty, Michael. You’ll see why soon.

The plan was Michael pops over for a few days, we drink some piss, watch some footy and he heads home leaving me with a slight hangover.

This was the first wife’s good week with chemo not till the Wednesday after Sunday’s game. Fucken beauty plan, I reckon!

These blogs are now read in many countries around the world so very quickly, for those outside of Australia and New Zealand, State of Origin is an annual three match rugby league competition between Queensland (QLD) and New South Wales (NSW). This year’s second game was a Sunday evening event at Suncorp Stadium in Brisbane, Queensland.

Now let me briefly take you back a little further to help put what comes later into perspective.

About 18 years ago both my first wife and I played a part in Michael’s wedding when he married some spunky young sheila called Marie. Marjana being the very best beauty therapist the whole wide world did the bridal party’s makeup and me with my skill-set, well not only was I Michael’s best man but I also got locked in a pub the night before the wedding with a couple other innocent fellas. We had to drink heaps of piss till we managed to escape sometime before sun up on the wedding day.  That shit tends to happen in New Zealand, but anyway that’s another story all together.

Michael and Marie Scott lived happily ever after and had a couple of sprogs along the way. Sometimes though the ever after isn’t a forever after and they split the sheets going their separate ways. Without going into their personal lives too much (yeah right), Michael is currently sheila-less but Marie gone got herself a new man. Now I ain’t never been one to judge but it needs to be noted that her new fella is also called Michael. You know how hard it is to find a new man with the same name as ya old man? Well, I don’t but I imagine it really cuts down on the selection pool so well played Marie.

My mate Michael and his vein arrived in Brisbane and called me into the city a day earlier to get on the piss. Not wanting to let my good mate down I did as requested and met both him and some other cunt called Tappy that he was drinking with. 

Now Tappy ain’t exactly an ugly cunt. He’s one of those dudes that’s got real good hair which basically means he’s got more than me.  He seemed like a bloody good bastard too but amongst these fellas we tend not to highlight one’s finer traits. So a few sips into my first beer I looked him in the eye and told him ‘Fuck mate, you’re a bit of a fat cunt aye.’

We all laughed like fuck.  Well, two of us did.

But this set the tone and I although I thought it impossible, Tappy’s guts grew larger with every beer we drank.

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Michael’s a fit looking cunt but unlike Tappy, he’s as bald as I am but without my fat guts. He ain’t the ugliest cunt I’ve seen but he sure ain’t the prettiest and that’s a positive when ya need to take the piss out of ya mates.

After a dozen or so beers Michael mentioned that his ex-wife Marie was also going to Origin. She was shouting her (not so) new man Michael for his 40^th birthday and that they were gunna be in and out of Australia for less than two full days… like 46 hours or some shit.

I phoned the first wife to come meet us for dinner and Michael, Tappy, Marjana and I met Marie and Michael (the new improved model) for a choice as Asian feed in Southbank with the inevitable flow ons involving hops and grapes in liquid form. Was a primo night.

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The following day was Origin. My first wife dropped me into town, kissed me, wished me luck told me to eat often and drink heaps of water.

I met Michael and Tappy at a pub and a little later in came Marie and Michael #2. By this stage we’ve got a few beers under our belts and we’d yell out ‘Hi Tappy’ whenever we saw a fat cunt with hair that walked past, we’d yell out ‘Hi Scotty’ when we saw a bald ugly cunt walking past and of course I often heard ‘Hi Woodstock’ being yelled loudly whenever a fat bald cunt walked past.

I started to realise that Michael #2 is a pretty good cunt actually. The fact that he also has a fat guts is a bonus in my eyes because it’s good ammo. Fuck yeah!

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Made it to Origin and watched Queensland get a hiding. They sucked actually. 

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Couldn’t help them at all from where we were sitting but could help some poor security guard that was getting a hiding from some New South Wales fan that refused to be evicted for being a fuckhead.

I stayed with Michael at his hotel in the city and woke up not feeling too flash.

Now I can’t remember if it was Sunday night after the game or first thing Monday morning but New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern closed the travel bubble between New Zealand and Australia. Basically a few COVID cases were popping up here in Queensland but more so with the Mexicans south of the border in New South Wales who were racking up quite a few cases. 

This wouldn’t have been an issue if it was after Marie and her new prototype version of Michael… and my mate Michael had already departed back for New Zealand, but that wasn’t the case at all.

Parts of Queensland went into lockdown and pretty much sorted it but New South Wales didn’t stamp it out and for whatever reason Queensland was included in the bubble closure until at least Wednesday or Thursday.

So, now we had three pissed cunts stuck here in Brisbane without a place to stay. Two of ‘em are a divorced couple and the third is the take two version of the divorced ex-husband, Michael.

Michael (first model) and Marie share their kids week about and Michael (second version) has a similar set up with his ex and their kids so they had to call in favours from family and friends to babysit and also sort out other life happenings as they genuinely couldn’t get home. None of ‘em could. They were stuck.

With the greater Brisbane now in lockdown, Marie and Michael (prototype 2) hired a car for three days to explore north to the Sunshine (Sunny) Coast, but before leaving they drove Michael (old worn-out version) and I back to my pad.

‘Hey I know what,’ said I.

You cunts all seem to love drinking piss. 

I definitely love drinking piss.

It just so happens I got me some kegs full of beer at home and also a couple other fridges that excel at keeping piss cold.

Why don’t y’all come stay with us till the bubble opens?

Fuck, it’ll be so much fun, man… You can all share the same bed but you guys gunna have to decide amongst yourselves whose sleeping in the middle. You can even top and tail for all I care.’

The response was pretty much a three-person choir in unison saying ‘You’re a cunt Woodstock,’ but they do know I come attached with the first wife and that she’s nicer.

Marie and Michael #2 decided to stay the night and head to the Sunny Coast the following day.

Now this may or may not come as a surprise but we ended up drinking some piss and Tappy and his fat guts even came out to add weight to it. After 84 beers he left and I haven’t seen the poor cunt since.

I cooked us a couple of feeds over the fire, one of which I fucked up big time and will forever be known for that you bunch of mongrel cunts, but the other shit turned out primo.

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From memory I think the following morning the Sunny Coast was added to the lockdown which severely inhibited their exploration plans as technically they weren’t really allowed to travel even outside of Brisbane.

Rather than waste money on hotels and restaurant food every night, all three of them decided to stay with us until they were able to head back to New Zealand in a couple days.

The lockdowns and the travel bubble closure were extended and a couple days turned into a few more days and ultimately a couple weeks.

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But do you think our homeless houseguests would take time out to not drink piss? Nah, bunch of drunken piss drinking cunts they are but no cunt has ever left our home saying ‘Geez that Woodstock cunt is a shit host and didn’t feed us well and nor did he drink much piss,’ so of course I had to play my host part.

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Even the first wife was in on it managing to fulfil her wine drinking ritual of smashing a full glass of wine all over our stairs.

She was as much a part of the piss drinking, piss taking scrum at our place as the rest of ‘em. Well she was right up until she had chemo on the Wednesday. Things changed somewhat after that. Well for us they did (mostly the first wife actually) but for every other cunt, nothing changed at all.

There were endless days and nights of fun and laughter, always with heaps of piss that was only really interrupted once and it was by my first wife calling for help.

It was Thursday night (the day after chemo but still with chemo bottle attached) and I thought I heard soft whimpering. When I didn’t hear it again, I figured it was the tv… until she phoned me from downstairs barely able to talk but managing to vocalise the word ‘Help.’

The others had already gone to bed and didn’t hear shit. I rushed downstairs and find poor lil ol’ wifey lying on the floor unable to move and covered in spew. The spew wasn’t just on her either. Nah man, it was everywhere, all through our bedroom and ensuite and fuck did I feel like a cunt.

She’s even trying to apologise for making a mess and I’m trying to tell her don’t be sorry and that it ain’t your fault and I’m sorry etc.

Fuck you cancer, you cunt of a piece of shit cunty disease. I hate you, man!  

But managed to sort out Marjana the best we could and get through the night with only one more vomit.

Talk about a reality check, man. Switch off and have a good time Woodstock but not so much that ya actually switch off and not there when needed, ya dumb cunt!

We can’t tell how each chemo session will affect her as it’s often different but this time she got stomach cramps and it fucked her up for quite a few days. But she’s a trooper and tough as fuck, I tell ya.

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Now I need to clarify here because I don’t want y’all thinking our homeless houseguests had overstayed their welcome, because they did not.

They’d all genuinely offered to move out but the first wife wasn’t gunna have a bar of it. She made it clear that if she needed time, she would just chill out in our room and although she can’t drink piss during this stage, they were to continue being the drunkards they/we are.

We all went through a few name changes over the period they stayed including variations such as Bald Ugly Cunt, Fit Bald Cunt, Fat Bald Cunt amongst others but and we ultimately settled on both Michaels being Mark I and Mark II and Marie being Laser Eyes.

Mark I and II are self-explanatory but Laser Eyes came about when Mark II hinted to his Mrs that maybe she should not open and drink that third bottle of wine and that maybe, just maybe she should go to bed. Everyone present was very happy that we weren’t Mark II at that moment because if her eyes were in fact real life lasers, he’d be the deadest cunt I ever met.

Mark I and Mark II got on okay before but they ended up spooning here in Queensland but they seriously bonded big time during this forced live in predicament.

Mark I loves the geegees and the TAB and took Mark II under his wing to teach him all his gambling bad habits and his spastic dance moves whenever he managed a win. Mark II fucking loved it. All of it.

Mark I would smile knowingly at Mark II with a tag you’re it, bro, look when Laser Eyes would get all sheila-like and tell him to do something. It was a beautiful thing to see.

And whenever Mark I or I needed a place to shelter from the rain, we’d jump under Mark II’s guts and feel safe. Disclaimer: we couldn’t at the start of the stay because his guts was normal size but by the end of their stay there was room a plenty.  

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We went out for heaps for restaurant feeds and some may have got a little freaky as ol’ Laser Eyes’ surname is still Scott. So imagine the weird as looks when Mr Scott and Mrs Scott are being seated but Mrs Scott is all lovey dovey with Mark II who ain’t even a Scott.

Once things opened up slightly with COVID lockdowns we went on a few excursions including a great day at Mt Tambourine where it felt like my first wife and I were taking our kids on a cool little outing.

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We all even managed to attend the Wallabies v France rugby test match. With it being rugby and not rugby league not even one of us got into a scrap.

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After a few false starts and a couple of COVID tests each, both Mark I and Mark II; along with the sheila they have in common, ol Laser Eyes, all managed to make it back to New Zealand alive and much much heavier for their efforts.

I’m not sure what the airline thought when the seating would’ve been for two Scotts, one of which was called Michael but the other Scott spent the flight snuggled up to another Michael who wasn’t a Scott at all.

Our homeless houseguests are now back in their real world and I miss them dreadfully. They cooked and cleaned and paid for us every time we went out or had to grab more piss and it’s expensive for us to now have to live without them. Come back you deserting cunts! We both miss y’all.

Apart from Marjana having chemo and her spewy, crampy reaction to it, this was an awesome couple of weeks that we both absolutely loved. It was kind of an escape from our bowel cancer reality whilst still very much living it in the first person.

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I’m pretty sure they enjoyed their stay too as by the time they left Mark II had changed the group chat name to The Very Best Tour EVER.

Finally, to finish on a couple of positives, the first wife is feeling all good right now. This one could be taken either way but Marjana had another CT scan before her last chemo and the result of that was status quo. It showed the cancer was pretty much the same size so although it hasn’t shrunk, it also hasn’t grown and when looking through these eyes people, that is indeed a positive.

And lastly, after returning to New Zealand Mark II proposed to ol’ Laser Eyes.

Therein lies the power and effect of living under the roof of Woodstock and his First Wife.  All this while living a real life bowel cancer affected life.

Congratulations team!

Fuck yeah!