Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

The Land of Milk And Honey

Wondrous events of the Easter weekend meant that I was delightfully sated in the bedroom department, thank you very much for asking. Well, it's what Jesus would have wanted. You're going to have a holiday celebrating eggs, fertility and rising from the dead, and you're pretty much asking trouble, aren't you? I mean those last three sum up the whole Paul McCartney/Heather Mills debacle.

Before all this bedroom action, I was idly toying with the idea of visiting my old stomping ground, the Gentleman's Recreational Spa and Steamroom. I seem to recall that the Bank holidays mean they are usually rife, and so my rosy tinted glasses were firmly on the end of my nose as I reminisced at all the people who I was missing. Like there's always one Gentleman who's a little... 'gifted' in the lunchbox department and taking great pride in waggling his thing around like he was trying to pick up Channel 5 in a built up area. And lying on the bench above him, some wendy face-down intent on presenting to everyone who enters like some red-butted mandrill monkey. Face like an angel, arse like a cement mixer. You can practically hear him 'beep-beep-beep'-ing as he backs up on anyone like a reversing lorry.

Oh! And then there's wandering the darkened corridors, where you'll find the steroid junkies still coming down from their three days chomping K down 'Fire' or 'Shunt' or something. You have to pass through them, these enormous great slabs of beef leaning up against the walls. Having to trot between them was like being in Egypt, passing through the Valley of Kings. Well, queens. You know what I mean. I just consoled myself with the fact that the bigger they come... well, the more likely they are to be a bottom, in my experience.

And lets not forget that the best night's sleep I've ever had was in a sauna. Oh no, I can't get any kip unless I have the whiff of a jizzed over gym mat underneath me. That stuff's like Nytol.

What did I do instead? Well, to save myself £15, I just left the kettle overboiling in the bathroom, turned all the lights off and played some porn loudly in the next room. And for that authentic feel, I spread some hummus on the floor. And low and behold, 20 minutes later I thought it was a bad idea and was ready to leave. Hey - just like the real thing!

6 comments:

Stepfordtart said...

That last paragraph had me snorting in a most unladylike fashion. And LOOK! I remembered how to sign in to my blogger account so I can comment! Okaaaay. Maybe 'remember' wasnt QUITE the right word. More like "sent multiple emails and clicked on a quintillion links with an ever growing sense of frustration and futility".

Im glad to see you're still being fabulous. s x

Perry Neeham said...

Unlike you I have no self control so I did pop along for a night of passion, er, I suppose that should be passions.

All very much as you describe, including the guy with the impressive undercarriage. I didn't know whether to suck it or feed it a bun.

Kezza said...

Oh my... I'm blushing like a school girl. You know I've never set foot into one of those sauna type establishments but I'm now quite tempted to head along for a bit of a treacle-beak at some of the inhabitants, although I'm sure the other half would be less than impressed, but if there truly is men with equipment the size of a large rodent then why not!

Either way it sounds like you had quite a merry old adventure at home, so maybe I'll just stick to that too. Your make-over tips sounds fabulous, now where did I put that hummus??

Tickersoid said...

Steam rooms are such naughty fun. I particularity like the facility to open other peoples mail undetected.

Qenny said...

I do get channel 5 sometimes, but you're right, being in a built up area does make it ... harder

Chris said...

Ah, saunas. The thrill of the STI lottery, the heady smell of shit and poppers....

And why oh why is it that one is always chased around, Benny Hill-like, by a fat man in a towel?