Playdo marvels

It hasn't taken long for this blog to descend to the depths of drunken debauchery in an attempt to entertain you, the masses. I blame the combination of readily available playdo, in three delightfully smelly flavours, mixed with copious amounts of alcohol.

It all started innocently enough when Alison sculpted this delicious looking hot dog, but everyone knew that wasn't enough. With Ada, Alison, Sarah and I quickly becoming more drunk, and with one of the most phallic dishes in the world for inspiration, we crossed the line of good taste.


Of course, Dog-Dog was not terribly excited by the playdo. In fact, I think he wanted us all to go to bed...


but Dog-Dog, being the lovable rogue that he is, still had plenty of kisses for the guests, pictured here planting a wet one on Peter.


And so to this day-glo Frakenstein creation - sort of how I picture mutant genitalia deformed by radiation. Let this be a lesson to you all - playdo and alcohol do not mix!


There are only so many obscene objects you can create with a soft, excruciatingly colourful, malleable substance. Possibly we could have workshopped some more lewdness, but to counteract the horror ducks and vegetables started popping up from the table.

Brendan was driven to insanity by this nonsense, and despite some great mountain biking around Mount Majura and Sparrow Hill, which featured death defying rolling over logs and surprisingly little injury, attempted to eat my head after a Saturday night on the town in Canberra.