Grab the shaft , play with the balls

That's right, my friends. Pool!

Look at the concentration. Look at that bridge hand. There's no question of where that ball is going is there? Hurtling round the table on the basis that if I hit it hard enough something's bound to go in and sending the cue tip through the baize with a satisfying ripping noise. Another pool table bearing silent but damning witness to my cueing skills. Truly, when it comes to putting on international displays of pool skills my game knows no boundaries. A style of play I have entitled Pool Sans Frontieres . Others have rather rudely entitled it Pool Sans Talent. The bastards.
And those aren't breasts. That's my T-shirt just flapping down a bit. Yu hustled me and I lost 3-2. This is in a bar called Kangaroo. You might think it would have an "Aussie" theme. But no. The theme was "A crappy bar with no one in it" which they pulled off spectacularly well. Don't get me wrong. There's nothing I like more than a crappy bar with no one in it, so I was as happy as a stick.
Funnily enough it's right next door to The Constellation (see below) who's theme, if it had one, would be "Exactly the opposite of a crappy bar."
Rest assured that even though The Kangaroo was crappy they were still putting a 376% mark up on the price of  a bottle of Tsing Tsao. I think, if I had a theme, it would be "Moaning about the price of a bottle of Tsing Tsao." In England my theme is "Moaning about the price of Fosters." This takes the form of me yelling "£7.50! That's what's wrong with this country!"on being served two pints of pissy Australian lager.
Consistency. Consistency. Consistency. The three C's.