Eddy Grant, just so last century

So, and yes I always start with so, even if fucking youthful Julie Andrews wants to start with doe. Got up late again, so late in fact we missed the stupid pool game, I think it was close to 1. Which by the time I’d done three coffees it was closer to 2. Then it was only 15 minutes before it was time for lunch. Cheese burger today, at the Italian.

I started on the Kindle with “The Hunger Games”. Now, books. I have a problem with reading, well not actually reading I can still do that, unlike writing, but it’s just trying to find the time to actually be round and do it. If someone buys me a book for Christmas then it’s more of a case of “thanks very much, I have a slot in 2015” rather than I’ll get stuck in straight away. I just don’t have the concentration or the time.

So post burger I made a good start on it. It’s basically “Battle Royal” without the subtitles, but I’ve found it to be a bloody good read and haven’t been able to put it down. I’m 3/4 of the way through it and for me that’s a bloody miracle, I haven’t been that hooked on a book since I was massively concerned about the welfare of Timmy the dog, in famous five when I was about eight (he pulled through).

Anyway, during lunch I asked Jamie the usual what he thought of the place, and got the response that he was “getting board of this type of holiday”. Ok, lets get this straight. I spend 51 weeks a year, working, sleeping, flogging my ancient and past it torso at the gym, doing the accounts and paying the bills, walking his dog, doing the shopping and all the house repairs, the gardening and all the manly things (I do have a cleaner, that’s not laziness, it really is the case that I don’t really have the time). And what does he do? Ok, goes to work, no problem with that, then comes home. He makes more mess than the entire Labour government during the seventies. I then have to tidy that up. So yes, may be his other 51 weeks a year are very much like my 1. He is a bloody good shag though, so all things can be forgiven.

So, where were we. Ah yes, I was reading a book. No distractions today due to German boys, that’s very disappointing as I wanted to drift off with visions of tight torsos in Lader Hosen while playing hide the Knackwurst.

One thing I did find annoying though was the musical accompaniment, Dire Straights (Brothers in Arms) twice. Followed by the best of Eddy Grant (now there’s a contradiction in terms to start with), at least in the Delphin Palace they played James Blunt, I could die a sonic death, but at least it was in the same century.

We returned to the hotel room. Jamie fell asleep. I read my book. No one demanded sex. Mind you this mornings dream was a bit weird, me, Dillon Samuels, a bunch of daffodils and a goat…story for another day. Had shower, went to dinner. Now it was the buffet restaurant tonight, they had eight main courses, which is a nice selection, except I didn’t want any of them. I ended up with chicken wings. Problem is the chicken was brought up on some sort of Ethopian diet plan, there was more meat on a vegetarians korn sausage. I had Kosher cheese, now I may be getting confused but does that mean that the cheese was concious at the point of death?

Now just been interrupted by my favourite barman trying to wrestle the glass from my hand so he can refill it. Only two days left before I go back to my toil and Jamie goes back to doing what he normally does, shame, I quite liked the book thing, may be I should make a bit more time and read a good book once in a while. May be I’m just being mad, may be people should just wear more hats.

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