Wesleyan Mission

So I front up a few minutes after 8, dodgy Thai t-shirt and leather jacket to let people know who I am (of course, that'll make me stand out in a bar full of muso-bohos!), thinking 'you could have planned this better', and there's the Governor General and Brownie. Brownie gives me a great hug and tells me I look nothing like Steve Vizard. Dear Brownie, what did I do to create such a fearsome image?

First mouthful of Mountain Goat slides down well. I say to the bartender:

Oh I'm just holding a meeting of bloggers, so if anyone asks you where the bloggers are, that's me, ok?

She looks at me like I just beat a nun to death with a cricket bat in the middle of Federation Square.

Others arrive, Rex, Outspoken Female, CFSMTB and a NON-BLOGGER (he was ok though, it's fine...), Tony Teach, Boynton, Cast Iron... did I miss anyone?

So we're missing Mallrat and Ladycracker from the rsveepees. I know what ratty looks like, never met Ms Cracker, so I walk up to these couple of potentially literary looking young ladies near the door and say:

Hi, I'm hosting a drinkfest of bloggers, um internet writer types, and I was just well looking for someone who isn't here who I haven't even met before and so wondered, are you ladycracker? Either of you? Could you be?

After consulting with police about a restraining order, one actually came over a few minutes later and chatted with us, even taking down all our URLs on the back of a drink coaster and promising to investigate this strange cult.

If you've popped in, hi, welcome to our strange corner of blogopia.

To the crew, thanks for coming, more drinks soon is my request as I pass the mantle...