From the far flung corners of the globe . . . or, at least, the end of Florizel Street and associated environs . . . we have our abled bodied Sisters filing their exciting and eye-popping match reports of events we’ve attended. Or – and this is more likely – we have our drunken old painted whores sending incomprehensible messages whilst under the influence, seconds before passing out in the gutter. Nuff said.