“Oh my god,” I spluttered as we approached Hastings St. I smiled even more than I already was.
As we were childless for the two nights (big thanks to Grandma & Nanny for taking that hit) Tracey and I were doing a lot of smiling. And I mean a lot of smiling. Sometimes we’d just giggle for the sake of it.
We were with the team from my branch for the annual Christmas bash so we were already set to have a good time. And while much of the humour of the weekend was a bit risque and so unprintable on such a classy blog as this – yes I have standards, don’t look so shocked – for all that it is Noosa itself which takes the award for giving us the best and biggest laugh of the weekend.
We were staying at the beautiful Colonial Resort at Noosaville (lovely people, even when having to ask us to please go to bed now because they’ve never had so many complaints from other guests in the entire time they’ve managed the place) and had gone for a drive into the internationally renowned main street for a gander.
For those of you who live in a vacuum and don’t know, Noosa is very expensive and therefore exclusive and the place to be seen on the Sunshine Coast. In a nutshell, it’s all class.
Until now.
I don’t know who’s in charge of Christmas decorations for the shire, but I suspect they’ve either got an overactive Aussie humour gland or they should have gone to Specsavers.
“Tracey! Look!”
“I know!” she gasped.
“Is it me,” I asked, “or does that tree look like-”
“-someone’s flung used condoms into it! It really does.”
So thank you again, Noosa, for keeping it classy and providing us with the biggest laughs of the weekend.
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Thanks.
“Raising a family on little more than laughs”
