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

Wednesday, July 09, 2008

Sitges, Part II

Surprisingly, it takes more than a few drinks to get my top off - even more than it takes to get my trousers down, let me tell you. My youth was often punctuated with the deafening clang of dropping knickers, yet my chest has remained unexposed to the sun in a manner similar to a Austrian cellar daughter. So with years of going to the gym with variable results, I finally thought I'd take the plunge and willingly remove my t-shirt whilst on holiday. Well, it was A Big Moment for me.

Well, you see, I thought I'd have to get used to wandering around in scratch all as I was very excited by the prospect of the weekly foam party that was in the offing. I've wanted to go to a foam party ever since viewing 'TISWAS' as a child. So I dutifully cantered out to the beach in little more than a pair of shorts to get a bit of colour in my cheeks. Though which cheeks I shall leave to your poor imaginings.

And promptly got sunburnt.

Well, I'd slathered myself with all sorts of Factors, but clearly not nearly enough, and my legs looked radioactive within an hour. With the normal forest of hair down south of my thighs, I thought I´d be safe, but noooooo. I was having to slather myself with aftersun almost bi-hourly. It was getting a little bit 'Singing Detective' in our room, let me tell you. And so it was touch and go as to whether I'd actually make it to the foam party after all. Oh, not because there may be an allergic reaction off the foam, but because I was worried that people may think that red means "stop".

Anyway, thankfully I recovered enough to grace said party. Good lord, you should have seen it! It was wonderful. Attractive men stripped down to their pants, writhing around waist deep in foam. If Belinda Carlisle was right and Heaven was a place on Earth, she'd clearly been looking through the porthole window of Trailer one Wednesday night! There are only two things I can recall from this point onwards: the fact that the whole building is marble, has many staircases and foam is very slippy (cue all sorts of bruise inducing hilarity); and that over in that corner, people started having sex.

Well! I couldn't get my hat on! It was like a bacchanalian orgy sponsored by Fairy Liquid! It was filthy! And breath-taking to watch, let me tell you. I gave it a full hours viewing, then collected my clothes and quietly left. Well, as quietly as I could after having been drinking for 12 hours straight; I remember clattering around, not being able to get my boots on because my feet were covered in foam, so I walked all the way back to the hotel barefoot. Blackened, they were. Oh, I thought I'd never get my feet clean. This was the antithesis of my beard - I don't think it had ever been so scrubbed. It glistened as it caught Thursday's first light. It was glorious. Like Aslan's mane.

I think the whole thing was notable for many reasons. But the one that will stand out for me the most is I believe its the first time I've had to come home with my underwear in a plastic bag.

Well, the first time I'm telling you lot about, anyway.


Perry Neeham said...

Fabulously told, you were made for sharing . . .

Inexplicable DeVice said...

Oh my goodness! Nanette Newman wasn't there doing the squeak test was she?