To each their own. It's his story and it is what it is. I personally don't like it when people nitpick people's travel reports. He did mention at the beginning that their would be guy talk, so you were forewarned.......Originally Posted by irieworld
Last edited by booger; 02-06-2012 at 04:12 PM.
I agree -- even though I have an Atlas body, ha ha ....
Crap, it didn't quote it all, lol.
I agree with the disliking the judging aspect!
No Fabs is not my alter-ego (I don#t have one) Fabs is Fabs - yes, like it or not, there are men like Fabs who walk this earth . . . lots of them.
As for 'ridiculing' over-weight women - I'm not. You made a big assumption there and took a big jump. I love all types of women, skinny, middlin' and over weight. I think the women in the poster that Brasi posted are totally bodacious! I'm writing 'unfiltered' - and I did warn you, I accept that you don't like what I write, and I am okay with it. (FYI - it was a bit difficult for me to post the part that I think upset you - I had to talk myself into it, but I'm not apologizing)
To be clear, Fabs is not my alter ego, he is my friend - this is me. . . .
As for blatant female objectification . . . . .how about this??
And this??
My Books:
Walk Good - Sunset Negril - Night NurseAvailable @ www.amazon.com - search 'Roland Reimer'
nuff said
Like I said, the girls in the poster are bodacious, but doesn’t the caption 'bones are for dogs' denigrate skinny women? Tell me – what’s wrong with skinny women?
nuff said
Oh Boy!
I believe in getting into hot water; it keeps you clean.
(G. K. Chesterton 1874 – 1936)
I don’t know where you get the impression that Fabs is shallow. Quite the opposite. He’s actually just a regular hard working guy who happens to eat right and look after his body – why denigrate him for that? So he has a preference for athletic women – does that make him shallow? I’ve noticed that ‘birds of a feather stick together’ ie; athletic people seem to couple with other athletic people. Does that make all of them shallow? As for Fabs’ comments on women – nothing new there, believe me. Maybe some people are envious because Fabs gets a lot of action, but here’s a flash – women are attracted to athletic men. Next time you’re on the beach look around at the athletic Jamaican dudes – they seem to be doing well.
Judge not, brethren.
In two days Fabs will be leaving and my wife will be arriving. After that the ‘guy’ part of this report will be over and that’s the last you’ll hear of Fabs. I’m not sure if I’ll keep posting after that – only because I probably won’t have a lot of ‘cOmPlEtLeLy DifFeReNt’ things to report on, and that was the thrust of this whole thread. I don’t want to be spooning out pabulum under the ‘cOmPlEtLeLy DifFeReNt’ banner. Besides, I expect that by Thursday you will have had quite enough of me.
So, back to the trip report . . . Fabs and I went up to Rick’s yesterday afternoon and we secured our in-pool table. Fabs went to the bar to get a bucket of Coronas.
While he was gone, two good looking women arrived at the pool and sat on the deck with their feet dangling in the water. I was wondering if they were the two that Fabs had arranged to meet. These girls were very good looking, and I mean sizzlin’ – and one of them was a redhead. I kept an eye on them, trying hard not to leer. After a minute or so the redhead put her arm around the other, nuzzled her ear and then gave her a lingering kiss on the cheek.
Oh! – so they were ‘les-B-friends’ of the ‘lipstick’ variety - no lumberjack shirts hanging in their closets. Inexplicably, after the kiss, they suddenly seemed to be even more attractive – exquisitely so. Probably the forbidden fruit affect.
Shortly after the kiss Fabs arrived with the Coronas. He immediately noticed the two women.
“Hey, check out the hotties!” he said.
“Yeah, very hot,” I replied. I didn’t tell him that they played on Ellen’s team.
“I like the one with the curly hair,” he said.
“Yep, she’s mighty purdy.”
“I’m gonna go for a swim,” Fabs announced, smiling lecherously. He stood up and did his best, slow – ‘look-at-my-physique-ladies’ removal of his tank top, then waded into the deeper part of the pool. He duck-dived and surfaced about five feet from the two women. He flipped his long hair back then ran his fingers through it, making sure to flex his biceps and deltoids as he did so. How could any woman resist?
The two girls paid him no attention.
Fabs played around in the pool a bit more, fishing for their attention and a smile. Nothing - they weren’t the least bit interested in his antics. They were engrossed in an animated conversation between themselves.
Fabs went to the opposite side of the pool then hoisted himself up out of the water, displaying his triceps and his muscular, tanned back. He then stood with his back to them, facing the sea, and flexed his glutes. Then he came back to the table where I was sitting.
I’d quite enjoyed watching his efforts, knowing that for once he would be ignored.
“How’d it go?” I asked him.
“Nothing, Dude, I don’t get it,” he replied, perplexed. “Huh,” I said.
Last edited by Kahuna3; 02-07-2012 at 04:03 PM.
My Books:
Walk Good - Sunset Negril - Night NurseAvailable @ www.amazon.com - search 'Roland Reimer'
The crowd gradually grew and around 5:00 two very pretty and very young ladies walked over to us and said hi. These were the girls that Fabs had met on the shuttle. Becky (the redhead) and Jennifer, a blonde, joined us at our table. We ordered more drinks. The crowd thickened - Rick’s was enveloped in a party atmosphere. We swam in the pool and slowly got plastered. At one point there were four Patrons with lime slices lined up on the pool deck. Then another round appeared. Like a fool I forgot my vow to stop drinking Tequila shots and pounded them back.
As the afternoon wore on a flotilla of sunset cruise boats arrived below the cliffs. Their passengers jumped into the water, swam over to the cliff-side ladders and climbed up to join the party – the place was packed. People were lined up at the diving platform to jump into the sea. The Rick’s cliff divers passed their red collection buckets and jumped from ridiculously high perches, much to the amazement and delight of the assembled masses. The band played on and the sun slowly sank in a cloudy western sky.
We kept buying drinks for Becky and Jennifer. It was a great time; everybody was laughing, splashing, and smiling.
At one point a couple of guys tried to elbow into our quartet. They were attracted by our young, bikini clad friends who were dancing arm-in-arm on the pool deck in the orange rays of the setting sun. The girls did their best to ignore the guys, but one dude hopped up onto the deck and positioned himself between Becky and Jennifer. He put his arms around their shoulders, started to dance between them and then motioned for his buddy to take his picture.
Fabs, who was in the pool, stealthily moved up behind the guy. His buddy, standing with the camera on the promenade below him, counted down, “Three, two . . .” and as he said “One!” Fabs grabbed the guy’s shorts and yanked them down to his ankles. I started to laugh so hard I fell off my chair into the water. The girls didn’t realize what had happened until the dude reached down to pull up his shorts, then they quickly moved away from him. Quite a few of Rick’s patrons had witnessed the ‘panting’ and were pointing and laughing at the guy. It was a great moment.
I would love to have seen that photo, the orange light of the setting sun, the big smile, the dude’s wedding tackle suddenly exposed and hanging out there for all to see. Priceless.
Eventually the sun set, but we were so blitzed by then we hardly noticed it. Suddenly, Becky and Jennifer were nowhere to be seen. Yeah, they stiffed us for the drinks, but it was worth it. We’d had a blast.
Fabs and I made our way out to the gate along with the departing throng and managed to snag a taxi. I rode shotgun and Fabs had the back seat to himself.
When we got out of the car at White Sands, I realized that I was barefoot; I’d left my sandals up at Rick’s. Fabs was missing his tank top and his designer sunglasses.
We met a little while later and walked up the road to ‘Best in The West’ for chicken. I ordered a quarter, Fabs his usual half with extra bread - this in spite of the recent toilet-plugging incident. We brought the foil packs back to the beach and ate at a table under the sun deck. We had a few beers to wash the chicken down and keep our Tequila-induced buzz going. Then Fabs sparked up a fatty and we sat there for the next hour or two and just zoned-out.
It got to be late. I was thinking about going up to my room when a couple of hookers came up to us.
I find many of the hookers on the beach (and at the concerts) to be pretty good looking girls – and that’s just a comment, no ‘flesh’ judgment or criticism implied.
But these two girls were not even remotely attractive (sorry, but that’s just the way it was). They gave us the usual spiel, “Hey, baby – yada, yada, yada.”
We were pretty toasted and it took Fabs a while to focus on one the girls. He did an exaggerated double-take and blurted, “Dude! You look like a dude!”
Well, she got peed-off right quick like – as if maybe it wasn’t the first time that she’d heard such a comment. She walked up to Fabs, raised her foot up onto the table in front of him and yanked up her skirt.
“Do I look like a dude!?” she demanded.
Turned out she was flying commando – and she definitely was not a dude.
My Books:
Walk Good - Sunset Negril - Night NurseAvailable @ www.amazon.com - search 'Roland Reimer'
I think that's just the difference between (some) men and women. Would rather hang out with a fun short fat bald guy with a hairy back than someone like Fabs! Live and learn.
Last edited by Maryann; 02-06-2012 at 05:15 PM.
K3 your trip report is a good read and it is obvious that you appreciate the people watching that Negril offers all of us. I am enjoying it a bunch in anticipation of our next reach.The fact that some people are not comfortable in their own skin says something about the individual not the people you describe. It's almost as if we are reading bits and pieces of your next book. Keep it up and don't hold back. We'll probably see you walkin' the beach next week. Walk good!
Soon come can't come soon enough!
I was having the same thought. A lot of assumptions going on.
Don't judge a book by it's cover.....
Kahuna,
It would be nice if it was out before my mid April reach. Hint Hint....
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