Are you a friend of Euarro?

It started innocently enough. I was tired, smelt slightly of gasoline, and was being driven from Geelong to Nhill by a friend of mine (who shall remain named "Less"). Less attempted to convince me to go to sleep, and being the brilliant mind I undoubtably am, I proceded to stay awake for the next 3hours and 55mins of the car trip, only to fall asleep within 5 minutes of the house in Nhill. Of course, for the almost 4 hours of conversating that took place within the confines of the car, we met someone who neither of us had met before. This person, who we new very little about, came to being during this weekend. His visit was so brief we never even caught his name. The only thing we knew was he was friends with Euarro (which he pronounced Warro, but with a throaty W sound). He reappeared a few times in the house, but by that night he had well and truly vanished. He vanished for a while until half a week later when we were reminicing about the trip and about him. Now he wont go away. he is cropping up in important conversations, in calls to overseas family, in the car on the way home (by myself), at Mikado rehearsals and at the dinner table and he seems to still have only the title "The Friend of Euarro". There is no name or face to this crazy character. He could be french or Mexican, or even english. He professes to come from "Tasweja", the small country at the bottom of Australia (Tasmania?) but this could be a blatant fabrication. He's not a bad bloke, but he wont leave me alone. Come be friends with him and maybe, just maybe, he'll stop being friends with me (for a little while at least).