The Miners at Nanawa have, in their generosity (and to break the rather crushing tedium of their labor) have allowed yet another 'Night at The Cliffs.' Â So bring a thick skinned version of yourself or enough hard-drugs/liquor to invent a thick skinned version of yourself and join us for a night of deliberately offensive poetry, artillery music and a clientele whose test of adulthood is to shave their pubes with sandpaper (Actually, that last part we aren't sure of, but it would explain their generally surly demeanor).Â





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