My friend Geth had a terrible car accident whilst travelling through Nth Western Australia a few days ago. He had to be Jaws of lifed outta the wreckage. Air lifted to Royal Perth Hospital. He's in very bad shape but stable. His friend Wil is in worse shape. It really hammered the Factory crew when the news came. We've sat in attendance in the gaming room for two nights drinking beer and trying to process the disaster. It can't be done. And perhaps shouldn't be either.
There's things I wanna say to Geth. Things about mateship, rites of passage...the post, the inevitable post that plys its way toward us irrevocably and at times like a fucking thief in the dark.
We played a round of Garts for Geth last night. He loves the game, and he's good at it too. It's a combo of darts and golf, played out on a dartboard. We wrote his name in on the card. Awarded him the maximum bonus to set out with. Sammy suggested we throw one dart each for him. Geth goes around as "Jumbo". We started nervously, Tommy, Sam and I. We threw him into last place. The nerves grew. Tommy spoke to the team about a new strategy. He would launch into Geth's go immediately after his third dart... our fortunes improved. We threw Geth to a round win and reduced his handicap by one. Did we actually reduce his handicap? "Sometimes you're on the back of the horse and sometimes the horse is on the back of you. Where are you right now?" - Richie.
Yes these are the days my friend and all days and no days.
I hope you read this one day man. I really do. We owe each other a parma brother Geth. xx.
Apol's again: Shelton Lea
Listening To: Shawshank Redemption, Stoic Theme