Your story of the trip to Ricks was hilarious!
Your story of the trip to Ricks was hilarious!
Mi ah DWL !! keep it coming....I wisg Fabs would extend a few days
I sure hope you don't stop posting when your wife comes to Jamaica. Please keep this going. :) I'm enjoying it. Guy talk and all.
[QUOTE=marley9808;34399]Hi Tex and also Hi Rastalady
Tex- The boardie bash is a get together that happens once a year (the last Friday in April) It is held at the Yellow Bird bar on the 7 mile beach in Negril.
Shauna - Just an FYI. The boardie bash was held at Yellow Bird bar last year, but that's not necessarily where it will be this year. Rob will inform everyone of the location before the event.
Ahh good point, thanks WiscoJudy!
Update: Boardie bash is the last Friday of April, location TBA
This is an entertaining read but I find much of it hard to believe and think there must be a good bit of fiction interspersed.
And some people think you cant have fun at Rick,s!
No Problem marley9808 . . . on with the report
!!! Pabulum Alert !!!
This morning I awoke with a hangover. I thought a beach walk might clear my head so I set out. I looked up at Fabs balcony as I passed, the door was closed – no surprise there.
Shortly after I started along the beach I picked up a companion, a young male beach dog. He trotted happily beside me, occasionally jumping up to put his paws on my thighs as I walked. He seemed inordinately happy for one who was so emaciated and mange infested.
It was a beauty of a day – a strong breeze blowing ashore – a blessed welcome relief from yesterday which was oppressively humid.
I walked and walked and as I did I felt my hangover gradually subsiding. Soon I was north of the little path the goes through the trees just beyond Long Bay Beach Park. On the little stretch of uninhabited beach that lies there, I encountered a beautiful, tall, slender grey egret with a gorgeous mantle of sleek gray feathers. He was stealthily stalking the shallows on his stilt legs, hunting for his breakfast. I stopped, sat on a nearby uprooted tree trunk and watched him for a while.
On my way back, as I traversed the path through the trees, I heard the sound of squealing car tires. I listened for the ‘crash-thump-tinkle’ sound of an impact, but heard none.
There was a pause of about thirty seconds and then the squealing sound repeated. Curious, I moved into a position such that I could observe what was going on.
A police car was stopped by the side of the road and there were a few cars parked behind it. As I watched I saw a cop get behind the wheel of one of the stopped cars and gunned it; I mean he floored the gas pedal. The car roared as it accelerated. Just as it was getting abeam of where I was standing, the cop driving the car let off the gas and stood on the brakes – the car screeched to a noisy stop. The cop turned around and drove back to where he’d started. There he got out of the car, relinquishing it, apparently, to the owner. The process then repeated itself with the next car.
I soon came to understand that this was a roadside brake check, Jamaican style. Now, imagine if you were driving down the Interstate and a Trooper waved you over, got behind the wheel of your car, floored the gas, accelerated up to 60MPH and then hammered on the brakes! How would you feel?
I walked back to the hotel and sat down on a lounge where I rested for a few minutes. A woman on a lounge a few yards from me got up and headed for the sea. Obviously, I figured she was going for a swim. She waded slowly out to the point where her butt was half-immersed in the water. There she paused for a minute, and then she turned around and walked back out and relined on her lounge.
Hmmmmm . . . .
If you are wondering what Fabs and I did last night – well, it was an interesting evening, to say the least. I just have to figure out how to write it so that it doesn’t get completely redacted.
I’m working on it.
Uncensored is the best! Carry-on lol.
I agree wholeheartedly ...please uncensored!!! We are all adults here...right??? (grin)
What is so hard to believe about this report. It sounds totally within the realms of normal to me. Do you people live under a rock???
Not Yellowbird??
Sorry, I realized that my comment would make no sense where it is in the thread. I meant to reply to this comment where Marley indicates that the location of the Boardie Bash on the last Friday of April is "TBA". I thought it was taking place @ Yellowbird. Is it going to change??
Rosco, I am not sure. I thought Yellowbird too but Wiscojudy told me it is not always at Yellowbird and that Rob will announce the location.
This will be my first boardie bash so I am not the expert on the location, though I do know the date, and I will be in Negril so as long as it is in Negril.....I am there!
Thanks for the belly laugh LOL
If anyone has anything negative to say, they don't have to read! I love uncensored.
Amen, rastalady! I wish that people would chill out.....I'm so entertained by this report....it's all good, Mon! Irie......
Kahuna,
Love your report, and I hope you aren't taking my posts as militantly as they may seem. LOL. You make a good point with the bodacious poster. Zing!
Just giving you some sh$&*.
I might not hang with Fabs...I'm sure he's a cool guy...but he is fun to read about.
Write on. :p
Brasi
President (and Founder)
Chubby United
OMG, I just read every page of this report and I LOVE. LOVE, LOVE it. Can't wait for more.
P.S. I think I met you last year, when I was staying at Nirvana. :)
No problem Bruddah Brasi! I actually don't take any of this seriously, but sometimes the tone of what I write is a bit off - so it comes across different from how I'm actually feeling.
Like they say IT'S ALL GOOD, MON!
This morning Fabs and I went for a ‘farewell’ walk. We stopped at Sun Beach. Fabs had a Stripe, I had a ginger beer. We talked for a while, laughing about the shenanigans that we’d gotten into. When Fabs’ time was getting short we set out for White Sands so he could catch his ride to MoBay. When we got to the vacant lot next to the sun deck, Fabs pointed and said, “See that little corrugated shack right there?”
I looked, “Yah,” I said.
“Just behind it, under that coconut tree, there’s a half sheet of plywood.”
“Okay . . .”
“Well, right there on that sheet of plywood, I’ve had sex there with three different women this week.”
I stopped and looked at the shack, then turned to Fabs. “You know, that can be very dangerous,” I said, "you need to be careful."
He smiled and shook his head. “Nah, don't worry, I wear protection and I’ve had all my shots.”
“Not that, I mean doing it under a coconut tree, if you banged your head up against the tree and shook it too much, a coconut could fall and crack your skull wide open.”
Fabs thought about this for a moment, then smiled and said, “It’d be a good way to go though, wouldn’t it?”
The interesting thing about this exchange is that Fabs wasn’t boasting; it was just a passing comment. Fabs doesn’t boast, about anything, and he has nothing to prove to me. It was simply an aside, akin to him saying, “Hey! Look at that stingray in the water there.”
I just saw Fabs off. He climbed on the bus, all dejected and morose. I guess I don’t have to elaborate – you all know how hard it can be to leave Negril.
But he had a good reach and he’ll be back. And he has a bank of fresh Negril memories to keep him going until he returns.
As for me, well I’m actually looking forward to slowing down a bit. I’ve been drinking way too much and staying up too late. And I’m really looking forward to seeing my wife too.
My wife, her name is Beate ( Bay – Ah – Tah - that’s German), arrives later this afternoon. (I just call her Bea.)
But I haven’t told you about our Tuesday night yet. I’m almost finished that part, I want to get it right.
I’ll be posting it this afternoon.
Can't wait....very fun read!!
I just saw Fabs off. He climbed on the bus, all dejected and morose. I guess I don’t have to elaborate – you all know how hard it can be to leave Negril.
I am glad they can't bottle this feeling...because I'd never GO to Negril knowing how I was gonna feel after. But it goes away when planning new trips.
<<<< WIMP
I shed tears almost every time.
So funny Brasi...I cry EVERY SINGLE TIME!!! It never fails...no matter how much I try to tell myself not to get upset that I will be back again.
OMG you have me rolling on the floor here !! YIKES!!!:eek:
dangerous', is not the word I would use! LOL Your the BOMB!!~~
ha! way to go fabs - lol
BTW: can someone spray down that sheet of plywood? Or...at least flip it over?
Or...drag it out into the sun so the spores...don't...well...you know...MULTIPLY :D
Wear surgical gloves, at all costs.
Just some advice from your friendly neighborhood Brasi.
So happy you and your GROOVE found each other ! LOL But you better keep Tanisha at arms length!!
:p:eek::o
OMG I can see it!!! LOL You really are a super writer. TY
Clap, Clap, Clap....
Can we at least get a picture of the piece of plywood?
LOL@ LAX response
That's sick, but I'll see what I can do - I didn't actually go over and look at it.
So here goes that last little bit of my ‘guy’ trip report.
Tuesday night Fabs and I walked down to the concert at Alfred’s. As usual, the area was all fenced off with blue tarpaulin. They wanted $700J for each of us to get in – which we thought was a bit steep. We were hanging around outside, peeking through the rips in the fence fabric and deciding if we wanted to go in or not, when this guy walks up to us and says, “Me can get you bote in for four hun’ert.”
I was immediately a little leery, but Fabs was already following the guy, so I trailed after them.
He walked us around to the side, where the fence butted up against a structure there. He put out his hand and said, “Four hun’ert.”
“Wait,” I said, “where do we get in?”
“Right dere,” he said, pointing to where he had dug in the sand under the fence. Fabs was standing there looking down at the little trench. It wasn’t very wide or deep – I doubted that a dog could crawl through it.
“That’s a good one, bro,” Fabs said, “but we’re gonna pass, thanks anyhow.”
We went around to the front and paid the $700J to get in. There weren’t many people inside, but there were several hookers. The entertainment was mediocre. We sat down and had a few drinks, fending off the girls as best we could.
We stayed for quite a while, hoping things would pick up, but they never did, probably because most everybody was at the Beanie Man concert at The Jungle. So we left and went for more beers, stopping at Sunnyside, The Boat Bar and later, at Tony’s.
We’d had quite a bit to drink and decided we needed to get some food, so we walked down the beach looking for something to eat. On the way, Fabs abruptly stopped walking and stood with his feet in the surf, staring up at the moon – it was full, or near full, on Tuesday night. The moonlight was phenomenally bright, washing the entire beachscape with beautiful, mellow, silver light.
Fabs was just standing there, looking up at the moon with his mouth kind of hanging half-open. He was wavering a little from side to side. He was transfixed, like a werewolf undergoing a transformation. Suddenly, he toppled forward, doing a full face plant in the water. He immediately stood up and shook it off, and we continued on our way. It was weird – I guess he passed out or fell asleep. Too much weed, probably. However, the unintended dip seemed to wake him up a bit.
We wandered out to the road and found a jerk barrel. Then we went back to the beach and headed to the hotel. We were carrying our chicken with the intention of eating it back there up on the sundeck. Well, it smelled so good that we started to pick at it as we walked. When we got to the old 23/7 establishment (A Safe Haven for Sinners!), which stood derelict and deserted, we turned in and sat on a couple of stumps that used to support the benches at the old bar. There we really dug into our chicken.
It wasn’t long before a couple of young hookers walked by on the beach and noticed us sitting up there. They came over and said hi. We gave them some of our chicken. They started right in on their pitch. We said we weren’t interested - we really weren’t, and we never are; it’s just not our thing. We’ll look at the girls and comment on them :), but it’s really just from an esoteric viewpoint.
So one of these girls, a real looker, goes over to Fabs and starts running her hands all over his thighs as he’s sitting there chowing down on his chicken. Fabs shouted, “Hey!” He pushed her away and sat up a little straighter. But she’d gotten his attention. He looked her up and down and said, “So, why don’t you show me what you got.” I think he meant it as kind of a dare.
She had a really nice, tight, athletic type body – very hot and aesthetically pleasing – like a fine bronze sculpture of the female form.
Fabs said something like, “Whuu! Nice!”
Meanwhile the other one was standing beside me and running her hands all over me and cooing and saying “Baby, baby,” and like that. I kept telling her that she was very pretty but I wasn’t interested. I gave her another piece of chicken to keep her hands busy.
So, the good looking one was standing there in front of Fabs, buck naked. I started to laugh, and so did the girl who was beside me. Fabs had a big sh!te-eatin’ grin on his face; he continued to munch on his chicken.
It must have suddenly occurred to Fabs that the girl would expect to be paid for the service that she was rendering. He raised both of his arms in the air and yelled out, “Hey, I’m not payin’! I’m not payin’!” He had a big piece of jerk chicken in his hand and sauce on his face and he was looking down at this girl, who was laughing but at the same time still working away at him.
So eventually, Fabs felt that things were getting ‘out-of-hand’ so he put his chicken down and pried the young lady off of him. He then jumped down from the stump.
At that point I was off my stump and bent over laughing. He looked at me and said, “I’m not payin’,” as if I had anything to do with it. Then he hustled off down the beach. I followed him, and the girls followed us.
The girls stayed with us until Fabs finally convinced the one that he really wasn’t payin’.
Eventually the girls left us and disappeared into the night.
So, that’s it. Fabs is gone and my ‘Guy’ week has come to a close. I’ve had fun writing about it.
Soon, Bea will be here and I can chill a little.
Oh! I think I mentioned that there is a long line-up of family, friends and acquaintances who will be coming/going over the next three weeks. One of them is a fellow we call J.T. I met J.T. at the old For Real bar a few years back. J.T. is a real character – not a womanizer like Fabs, but a kind of rolling comedy show.
J.T. gets here on Sunday. It should be interesting.
Too funny..... I searched for 23/7 on the message board this am wondering what had become of it..... Now I know!
Excellent read.......I'll be downloading your 2 books to the Kindle. Thanks for the entertainment!
After washing it off...and sterilizing it...cut and sell little pieces of that 1/2 sheet of plywood off as necklaces.
Talismans, if you will. For guys like me that have LESS luck (skill?)...maybe Fabs would even sign them. They could be carved out into the shape of a "JOHNSON." Taking a euphemism from Booger, the necklaces could be called "Hanging Brains."
Am I on to something here?
"Hey I got laid three times last week...with three separate chicks! This Hanging Brain really works!"
GerryG123 could have his own infomercial!
I mean, I was there 12 days in January. But I only got one "R.B.I." and a couple base hits...and a triple. With the same girl. How boring. JK LOL
Fabs sounds like one of the best closers ever. That plywood is like an ass magnet.