So, backstory:
At an old workplace, we used to have a hard-case storeman, lets call him 'Stan'.
Stan could take the taunts and give em like a pr0, a tough-nutt with a heart of steel.
On his semi-lucid days, he'd rant and rave about his garden, and in particular about his GNOMES.
Thats right. His garden gnomes.
You see, his garden gnomes werent 'normal' gnomes, they were IRISH gnomes.
They were an unruly lot, doing rude gestures, trashing the garden and scary the neighbourhood cats.
My workmate used to taunt Stan and threaten casually that one day he'd steal his gnomes.
Stan was safe in the knowledge that my workmate didnt know where he lived.
But I did.
So in the name of Irish gnomes everywhere, and in the spirit of St Paddys day, we decided to 'liberate' them from their place of incarceration!
Here is what the gnomes did after escaping.
"Dear Stan,
For many years we have watched over your garden without being appreciated, But no more!!!
Last night we decided to take matters into our own hands and no longer be bound by our cruel cruel master.
We have decided to live it large and enter the lands of Sodom and Gomorra.
By the time you read this we will have broken at least eight of the ten commandments and 12 of the seven deadly sins.
What follows is a pictoral guide to our Friday night in Dunedin and let me tell you this is just the begining.
Know this next time you see us we will no longer be mere Gnomes we will be...........MEN!!!!!!!!"
