Aaron Gilmore, raconteur and bon vivant, has burst back into the Court of St. James in style.
Looking back as a burnt-out hospo droid, I had to put up with a lot of shit in my time. Oh, the stories I could tell, but my lips are zipped. What goes on in hospo stays in hospo.
However, these are not the old days. Waitrons and bar managers can get hefty fines (for a waitron, if not a National Party tit sucker) or lose their licence for serving drunk arseholes.
But what really grinds my gears is that these Bachanalian bastard lawmakers refuse to stop arresting and jailing less surly behaviour from the cannabis hippies.
And call me a dope fiend, but aren't all these Nats beginning to look the same whiter shade of pale?
