Slurp, slurp, gobble, gobble – diving and m*ff-diving in the Land of Sm*les

(Due to the lack of enthusiasm in my posts about financial services lies, I’ll take a break from them and write about s*x instead. Apologies to my more sensitive readers)

I’m wintering in the Land of Sm*les where I’ve done some diving – you know aqualungs, the sea, fishes etc and the hope you don’t bump into any hungry sharks or grumpy jellyfish.

But there’s another kind of diving that seems extremely popular here. In the gogo bar where I sometimes go for a few beers and to watch the weekend’s football highlights, there are some interesting characters.

There’s one guy we call “Mr Muff”. He’s about 40, small, fat and virtually bald. His speciality is getting the girls to open their legs as wide as they can, he then carefully talks off his glasses and puts them into the cup holding his bill and whoosh – in he goes. I’ve been timing him and he seems to be able to do about 5 minutes of slurping and gobbling before coming up for air – his face beaming with delight perhaps a bit like Keith Vaz filling in his “totally justified” expenses.

Then there’s Mr A**e. When the girls shove their not-so-private parts into his face in the hope he’ll have a gobble and then buy them a ‘lady drink’ or give them a couple of quid, he gets them to turn over, go onto their knees and then he shoves his nose and tongue into a place where the sun doesn’t shine. One night I asked him why he did that (it not being something that would appeal to me). His reply, “because they all taste different”. Not being a great conversationalist, I didn’t really know what to say to that.

Then there’s the dead Japanese guy. At least, he must be well over 70 and with his cadaverous skull-like head looks like he died some years ago. But boy does he come alive when he gets into the bar. Especially so last night when he spotted a very beautiful young girl who looked part Japanese. As she was dancing, he rammed his head between her legs and got to work. When she finished her dance he desperately looked around for her but couldn’t find her. Perhaps she was trying to avoid him? Anyway, he went for a tour round the bar, found her, pulled her to his seat and shoved her hand down his trousers to make her pull on his probably rather wrinkly……I’ll stop there.

As they say, “there’s nowt so queer as folk”.

Talking of Mandelsonians, at a restaurant where I often eat (3 courses and a couple of ice-cold beers for a tenner), a group of German Mandelsonians (aged between 55 and 75) came in with their young (aged 18 to 20 years old) boyfriends. I know I’m old-fashioned, but when one of aged German Mandelsonians (certainly in his late 60s) started hugging and kissing his maybe 18-year-old male partner, it sort of put me off my otherwise excellent Chateaubriand steak with fresh green-pepper sauce.

As for the football – I saw Liverpool thrash a useless Fulham. Every time Fulham got the ball (which wasn’t often) instead of attacking Liverpool’s goal, they all rushed off towards their own goal like terrified turkeys in the week before Christmas. In their pathetic retreat, they were pursued by the marauding Liverpool team including Gerard and Suarez who seemed to have no problems scoring goal after goal after goal. All a bit sad if you’re foolish enough to waste your time supporting Fulham