Paul’s week had begun and ended in a rather similar fashion – most bizarrely. The first incident had occurred at a swanky party in Sotogrande, at which ‘The Lola Boys’ had been performing. It had been a roaring success apparently. The boys had been joined by ‘Burly Chassis,’ ‘Tina Turnoff,’ and ‘Amy Crackhouse’! It had been the first time Paul had clambered into a mini skirt and an overstuffed bra for quite a while. Secretly he found the whole dressing up thing a bit of a drag. He was getting […]
Day 3. St Maarten. It was the 29th of January. The day of Paul’s sister Tina’s birth. She was forty-something and the boat docked on the Dutch side of the beautiful island of St. Maarten. The family made their way to ‘The Peninsula’ restaurant in the bowels of the ship for a birthday breakfast. It was no mean feat. The ‘Britannia’ was not easy to navigate. Whoever had designed her had made it quite impossible to go from front to back and side to side in a logical manner – […]
When Tina was just twenty-one, she had left chilly Blighty to begin her career as an artist on the stunning island of Antigua. She had stayed for more than a year on the island turning tricks at a local pottery as many a Caribbean boy attempted to turn tricks on her. As Linda’s crew hit the island almost thirty years later not much had changed. The place was still gorgeous; the weather wonderful; the men quite insatiable! They headed away from the main crowd – always a good idea on a cruise. […]
Paul awoke groggily in the shabby, beige hotel room and for far too long remained in the nightmare he had been suffering. He was still trapped in Barcelona’s Sagrada Familia as it crumbled around him. Andrew looked on, dressed as a Cardinal, smiling devilishly, delighting in the masonry falling freely onto his parishioner. It was all terribly Catholic. Paul decided immediately to read no more Dan Brown! Although the author’s novels were admittedly page turning, their ideas could be head spinning when it came to getting any kip. Light reading […]
The five-hour ride through Laos was striking, but as the mini-van juddered and bounced along some of the worst roads he had ever ridden, Paul arrived in Vang Vien stricken! Admittedly, there had been a rest stop on route, when Andrew had smoked eight cigarettes and Paul had emitted eight pints of something brown from his gullet. He thought he had done rather well, as he had managed to hold back the vomit for at least an hour and a half on the bus, no mean feat, considering as there […]
After a particularly harrowing ‘long-maul’ flight on ‘Swiss Air’ via Zurich, Paul arrived in Bangkok wanting to burn every shitty Cuckoo Clock in the world. Slit cute little ‘Heidi’s’ throat, using a Swiss Army Knife of course, and then kick her into a boiling pot of Fondue.
Author’s note. The author apologises for a complete lack of photography in this blog. The reader will realise for themselves why this is the case. Paul had known in the pit of his stomach, that the idea of he and Andrew taking a sea kayak and paddling off for the famous ‘Emerald Cave’ on the edge of Thailand’s Andaman Sea could easily end in disaster. But as per usual he ignored the deep warning signs and instead set off onto the deep for a titanic moment on the high seas. The boys set off from the beach at an ungodly hour, Paul only hoped that there was some seafaring deity who had also risen early and would therefore be looking down or up at them. The sky was a hot slate of muted greys and the sea matched her sullen mood. After a short watch, it was as crystal clear as the Indian ocean, that the Gods had obviously had a very late night! The Boys were on their own. After the inaugural launch of the SS Lola, The Boys initially paddled in manic circles attempting to work in tandem; their double act though far less successful offshore. They were sinking much faster than they ever did onstage. At least that took a good couple of hours Paul thought. He barked an order at Andrew to come to the right. Andrew misunderstood his nautical command and used the right oar […]