All of you hate me for this article, standing there staring at your windows in the rain. The burning leaves of August slipping down the sidewalk as summer reaches the disastrous end. While here I melt in the Caribbean. But it is not so easy in Paradise!
Left behind my Italian Boyfriend
To begin with, it is so hot, and by hot I mean 40 degrees plus 100% humidity. My brain is a jelly basin, so don’t expect me to get used to my wisdom. I left behind my Italian boyfriend (on a beach, chick in Italy) my child, my horse, my cat and all my friends for 3 weeks to write this damm novel that I have to write. So far a few pages. are all I managed.
I’m sitting on a mountain peak in a wooden shack (you think got lost in Africa in the bunk beds). Which is picturesque, but an oven during the day and full of creeping creeps at night. To get to the beach, I drive my Suzuki jeep through what I named Transylvania. On Cemetery Lane, (I don’t feel you anymore). At the top of one of the most expensive golf courses in the world, Sandy Lane … In the first week, two of my friends collapsed, and I caught the flu and crashed into a pile of weeping. Panadol.
Maybe, but if I could just drag myself to the airport for that Virgin Atlantic flight from this oven, I’d be fine.
However, Morale was saved by two guys on the site, one who sends me a daily email and we talk about music and stupid stuff. The other who is too cute and young to be left alone, but who sends daily flirt messages. . Thank you guys. My boyfriend rings every day sounding deliriously happy, as he is always in Italy, although he confesses that I miss him crazy … I’m not sure he does it in his sweet way.
Pretty much me, what about Barbados, which, like many other tropical islands around the world, has a culture of toy boys. Wherever you look (apart from the semi-naked lobster tourists). There is a blond-haired perm-aged blonde woman, shiny perma, with a handsome younger man, usually dreadlocks, for good measure. There may be an occasional child colored with coffee, made in bursts, thrown in. The annoying thing is that women seem to do absolutely nothing but sit on the beach and cover themselves with oil. While their true girlfriends roam the coast in speedboats with names like AquaTiger, which rides tourists on inflatable mattresses.
I was offered my own choice of Aqua Toy boys, in different shapes and sizes. There I was thinking about my own business on the local beach, when a sun glass appeared between me and the sun.
Would you like the company?
No, thank you, I’m reading.
Well, I could stay with you.
No, thank you, I have a boyfriend.
Well, you know it’s okay, but I’m an African lion and if you don’t tell him I won’t do that.
He was 75 Years Old
The thing is, even if I didn’t have the man of my dreams standing on an Italian beach 5,000 miles away from me to tell me he misses me. I don’t think I’d go for it. The long-term repercussions are two huge. Take Amelia, a slightly full blond bomb, whom I met on the beach the next day. Who left the King’s Road apartment to get married here on a tour of the island. He seems to spend his days baking cherry cakes and taking care of his 88-year-old grandmother, which could be of new value, but I certainly couldn’t do it.
So, here is a liquid balm that fights the toy boys and the occasional rich old git, worried about the sun damage to my sensitive skin. That prompted me to buy a dark straw colored straw hat, (I think Joan Collins) with sunglasses yesterday. Except that my friend said I look much better than Joan
Collins, who is lucky because I last heard of her.
he was 75 years old!