So on account of my Foxtel Play trial account lapsing and having no TV through which to watch tomorrow's asado, I find myself at my parents' house, about to catch some zeds before a putrid alarm at fuck-knows-whatoclock, and I find myself attending to my ablutions in the spare dunny.
It's essentially a closet filled with the sort of nick-nacks a family accumulates over 35-odd years.
Being a cultured man I like to read when I shit. Apparently this has been so since at least 12 years ago, as the resident reading material happens to be highly relevant to this evening's events. See attached.
Clearly this is a portent from the Gods. An overly-ambitious cutout pass will be snaffled by an opportunistic outside centre who's runaway try will real the game open.
Gentlemen, may we pray that it's an Argie who throws the errant pass.
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