The Burgers are better at Birmos

Monday is an odd day. It really does make you ponder the necessities of life as you gather on your shoes and hope that they're not only on the right feet, but you also don't have your partners socks on.
In my case, it was a sleep in. Why? Oh, that's because I'm on 5 weeks holidays.
So waking up at 6am, I realise that I forgot to turn off the alarm on my phone. Silly me. So I turn it off and go back to sleep only to wake up at about 11.
Not a bad start, I reckon.
There are only a few things that I needed to do today: Get some new jeans since the other pair are more holey than a jihad, and grab a couple of books for a friend.
Easy enough.

So that was my day in a nutshell.

The night, now that was interesting.

Set in the Lock n' Load, I was on an adventure into a land completely unknown to me: West End. Never before have I been to West End, but the word on the street is that it's a very down to earth area with plenty of restaurants.
Fair enough. Getting off at South Brisbane Station, I follow the map I traced out on Google. "Turn left at the lights, and follow along until Boundary Street. Turn left again and keep following until you see the pub".
Easy enough. I get to the corner for Boundary Street and turn left... Into Browning Street without realising. I get back onto the right track after figuring "Maybe I've taken a wrong turn" and suddenly find myself at the Lock n' load.

It's a rather dark sort of pub set in the middle of the street across from the FArt Gallery.
I went up to the bar and ordered up my usual and wonder if there will be anyone I can recognise. Standing out from the crowd was a fellow with a funny moustache and goatee.
"Damian? Maybe... Lets see if there's anyone else I might recognise..."
I sat there for a good 10 minutes before I saw another fellow at the bar ordering a drink.
"He looks familiar. Maybe that's Birmo?"
He toddled back into the crowd in the corner.
"Maybe it is. Alright. Time to balls up."
Sitting down next to the fellow with the fresh beer, a few faces turn to me.
"Birmos group?" I ask to a few of the guys who nodded and offered handshakes.
Huzzah! I had found the congregation!
Introductions were made and quite a few names ran straight over my head (Lermantov I'm pretty sure is a good example). I blame that on my practically broken ears. Next year you'll probably find me with an earhorn.

Anyway. Drinks continued and I watched, and attempted to listen, to conversations that everyone was having. More turned up and the optimism of reaching the reserved 23 was becoming prominant! Girl Clumsy, Mayhem and Timmo turned up, also with "He who shall now be named" The Lurker turned up with a couple of his friends, whom I name Andrew and the Polish Martini. I say the Polish Martini because 1: It's classy; 2: I know it rhymes with Martin; 3: I know it's not Martin. Andrew is the only name I'm actually sure about. Huon? Hewinn? I'm so sorry, Lurker. At least I'm not ending it with T this time.
Our guest from the US even turned up on Skype (Thanks to Damians supply of Technology) at WTF O'clock and I had a good chat with her as well.

The night slowly wound down to an end and while I did plan to stay out a little longer, I talked with mayhem for a little bit and lost track of Albion who was going to be my guide since everyone had buggered off.
It was a good time and entertaining to meet everyone. Can't wait until the next one.