KEITH T. DENNETT | New South | Contact
Lying face up in the ocean with pristine salt water lapping at his body, Shane Jetty is at peace.
Having polished off no less than eleven schooners last night with his mates at the Coolum Beach Hotel, every pore in Shane’s body is leaking out the kind of odours that would freeze up an ignition interlock device.
But despite his guts being upside down due to alcohol poisoning, Shane’s overall outlook is pretty chipper given he’s made a smart decision and ventured out for a swim as soon as he opened his eyelids.
Heading down to Coolum beach for a 9am dip, Shane wore last night’s undies in the salt water, saving himself the need to do any washing later in the day.
So with the sun beating down on his flabby frame, and seagulls singing overhead, Shane exited the swell of Coolum Beach with the same swarthy confidence as Casino Royal edition Daniel Craig, confidently declaring to The Advocate that he feels like a new man.
“Hangover? What hangover?” chuckled Shane, whose breath stunk of pub nachos and full-strength lagers.
“I’m ready to run a marathon, I’m practically reborn!”
Pausing briefly to let out a groggy burp, Shane outlined his plans for the day, which sounded like the perfect cure for an otherwise sore head.
“Might swing past a cafe to pick up a double bacon & egg roll and a Gatorade, before heading home to watch whatever is on Fox Sports.”
“I’m writing this off as my exercise for the day, what more do you want from me?”
