Doctor Muck’s Holiday Blag Wednesday 22nd June 2011

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Doctor Muck’s Holiday Blag Wednesday 22nd June 2011

Wednesday 22nd June 

We met up with Luis and Carolina yesterday for a quick drink in town, and were taken to Ana’s bar, where we also bumped into Tommy, the new manager of the Palace. I had noticed that he was different with me on Saturday in the club, after his friendly introduction on Friday. He was rather distant, and my instincts told me something had changed in his mind about me. It was him that I gave my CDs to that Ana complimented me on, so they must have listened to them together. Maybe he wasn’t as impressed as she was, or maybe it was something else. Certainly last night there was nothing more than a polite greeting, which told me that my suspicions are probably right. Oh well, you can’t hit it off with everyone, and if what I’ve heard is true, there’s an expensive reason behind behind his air of superiority which is probably best avoided anyway.

Luis and Carolina have confirmed our earlier suspicions that they are a lovely couple and mucky as hell. They are real hippies, and well known and liked here in Lagos. They have made us feel so welcome, and we were very honoured when they invited us to their home for lunch today. They prepared the most delicious feast for us, and Carolina’s home made sushi was amazing. 

Luis is a real character, and we listened with smiles on our faces as he told us tales of scrapes he got into when he was younger, while putting Sandy to shame with his immaculately rolled joints.

We’re going to meet them both for a drink tomorrow night, our last in Lagos, and will be keeping in touch with them for sure. Luis told me that Brighton is one of his favourite places anywhere in the world, and I hope they visit soon for us to repay their wonderful hospitality.

Earlier last night, myself and Mrs Muck had taken a walk towards the marina and eaten at the restaurant where Aldy works. It was really good to see him again, and he looked after us impeccably. When he’s not drunk he is so funny, and great company. His camp, flamboyant nature is so welcoming, and you could see that all of the customers in the restaurant loved him. It’s hard not to, and we’re going to meet him in town tonight to have a proper farewell drink when he’s not working.

After leaving Luis’s earlier we grabbed our stuff and legged it straight down to the beach. My contentment to shadebathe for the last few days has been left behind in a blind panic that in two days time it will be all over and we’ll be back in the not-so-sunny UK. Dear God, what weather you’ve had back home! I’m half expecting to check the BBC weather website later and see plague and pestilence forecast for tomorrow, it’s been that bad. It’s certainly going to be tough going from lazy days on a sunkissed beach to a post apocolyptic hell hole, but I dealt with the fact that I sometimes have to work in Luton a long time ago…

The girls have also started panicing about their tans fading as soon as they hit UK airspace, so have decided to get some extreme tanning in. Fifi sent Mandy to the shops this morning to get some factor zero tanning oil, (Handy was all out) but instead she returned with a brightly coloured bottle of factor four. Fifi went mad, and berated Fifi for choosing ‘pwetty cowors’ instead of some ‘real sun juice’. Oh boy, she’s a real minx when roused, and not the head of the geishas for nothing. 

Like Mrs Muck with me, Fifi runs a tight ship. She’s the boss all right, and acts as everything to the geishas, from madam to matron- if your idea of matron is less Hattie Jacques and more slutty japes. That was a bit tenuous wasn’t it, and I apologise, but for those of you who’ve never met her, Fifi closely resembles Salma Hayek in ‘From Dusk To Dawn’, and has the feisty vampire attitude to match. She is the head Muck FM geisha girl, and also the head  pole/lap dancer up at the Camel Toe club in West Croydon. To see her writhe on a pole is quite something- and I speak from very personal experience, if you know what I mean- and I think you do. She’s quite a girl, and a very good friend of mine. She often stays over with us in the studio back home and… well, I’ve said enough I think…

Plumping up her bikini angrily Fifi said that if you want something doing right etc, then stormed off to the shops and came back with twenty gallons of Hawaiian Tropic olive oil, dragging the industrial metal drum behind her on the pavement. 

“Now get this on you” she barked at Mandy, and started rubbing the young geisha girl down from head to toe with olive oil as me and Sandy looked on, tongues hanging out.

Fifi glanced at us and gave us a wink as she slid her hands over Mandy’s budding breasts.

“Now you do me” she ordered Mandy, who willingly obliged, with a deceptively innocent smile. Needless to say we arrived at Luis’s a little late…

Mandy is Fifi’s protégé, and is being trained by her in the fine arts of geisha-ing and pole dancing. If you prefer your geishas loving as opposed to slutty, and warm hugs rather than hot tubs, then Mandy is the one for you. But don’t be fooled by that girl next door exterior- she knows how to please, believe me, and as some of you know she doesn’t come cheap. But without exception, everyone who’s tried her has said she’s worth every penny…

So here we all are on the beach, Handy and the geishas all sizzling slowly on the sunloungers, a heavenly smell of frying meat and olive oil drifting over into our nostrils. Sandy is fast asleep on a towel next to them after a noisy all night session with his cutie (they woke me up three times with all the groaning and crack smoke drifting under our bedroom door), and myself and Mrs Muck are relaxing with our books making the most of the unwanted pretty bottle of factor four. A siesta I think, then a night out in town with Aldy and the crew. The last couple of days of a holiday are always tainted with the imminent return to reality on the horizon, but I’m determined to make the most of our time here- and reality can always be blotted out for a while with a couple of puffs on one of Sandy’s droopy doobies. Good times…. catch you tomorrow folks!

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