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Thread: ‘Life’s a Beach’ - or - AnD nOw FoR sOmEtHiNg CoMpLeTeLy DiFfErEnT -

  1. #21
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    Intro to Fabs

    Hey Kimbo - see yah soon.
    PGW and Fredstripe - Yes – the photo was taken from Point Village, as it was called at the time, – I think it’s undergone a couple of name changes since then. My wife and I did go to Hedo for a week after our wedding guests departed ;>) - but that’s another story....

    Mud – I definitely want to see your balloons this year – last year was awesome.

    To ‘justchuck’ and others who have read my books – thank you.

    I’ve started packing my bags for the trip – the ‘reward’ ticket that I’m travelling on allows for 2 bags with a total of 100 pounds between them. Sweet! I’m gonna use it all up. It’s not that I travel ‘heavy’, the clothes requirements for my trip I could put in my carry-on backpack. But it’s all the other crap that I gotta haul. Mostly books this time – and they are heavy.
    - I’m bringing four novels to read – thick ones –
    - I’ve got two hard cover novels that I will give to my brother when he gets there,
    - and then there’s about 20 copies of my novel that I’m bringing to give away to people I’m meeting there.
    - Add to that 4 tubes of sunscreen, shampoo, conditioner, toothpaste,
    - 3 bars of soap, my laptop, a radio, skin lotion,
    - bug lotion (sand fleas feast on me), shaving stuff, protein powder and bars,
    - a couple of pairs of runners, mask and snorkel
    - a frother (for juice & protien), and a bunch of utensils – it adds up pretty quick.

    Anyhow – I’m getting antsy. I spent 40 minutes this morning chipping ice from my front steps – we had freezing rain in Ottawa last night.

    But back to the upcoming trip; I think guys should have regular ‘guy’ trips, just as women should have ‘women’ trips together. I believe these types of getaways are good for the soul. That’s why I’m looking forward to Fabs coming down. Our ‘guy’ time on the beach together always perks my soul up a bit.

    So let me introduce you to Fabs. Fabs is short for Fabio; that’s his beach handle, not his real name. I introduced Fabs to Negril four years ago. During that first trip Fabs fell immediately in love with Negril, it was a natural fit for him. He had such a great time that the week after we got back home he was already planning for his next sojourn.

    Of all the people who come down to Negril to hang with me, it’s Fabs that is at the center of the most bizarre occurrences. With Fabs there are always things that come up.

    Here’s the background on Fabs: We became friends because we just started to hang out and became good friends – in fact, we became confidants. I talked so much about Negril that it was inevitable someday Fabs would make the trip to Jamaica with me.

    Besides being a not-bad athlete, Fabs is also a pretty good lookin’ dude. Frankly, he’s a ladies man, a stud-muffin, a chick magnet, a true life lothario. Fabs is one of those lucky guys who is genetically blessed. He’s tall with broad shoulders. He has big hands and size 14 feet (curiously, women seem to find that significant). Fabs works out – he has abs. He has longish hair, an insouciant, devil-may-care smile, and he’s a charmer.

    Which is great for him, but it kind of sucks for me. Understand? Not that I’m an ogre or anything like that, but I’m no George Clooney either. So it’s Fabs that gets noticed when we are hanging out together; the women literally hurl themselves at him – and I’m not just talking Negril here, it’s everywhere. It’s like women instinctively want to mate with him - like they want to bear his children or something. It’s a bit disturbing to watch, actually. Women are drawn to Fabs like moths to a flame. I am a mere pinprick of light that all but disappears in the fierce glow of Fabs’ million candle-power lime-light.

    But I’ve adapted. I sit back and watch Fabs do his thing. I wait until he makes the 1st draft pick, then I’ll talk to the rejects, try to console them a little, maybe commiserate.

    But don’t get me wrong, I’m not playing the same game as Fabs. He’s single and is always looking to score. I hang out with him, so I’m frequently in situations where we are talking to women. But I’m not what you’d call ‘a player’. I’ll be straight up with you – I love women. So I’ll chat with the ladies, buy them a drink or two, have a few laughs, compliment them on their outfits or hair, try to make them smile – because I love it when a woman smiles. But I’m not out to hook up with anyone. Nah. And if I should accidently put out the wrong vibe and mislead someone, well - to use an old fishing term – I’m a ‘catch-and-release’ guy - that’s how it is. I play the game just for the fun of it, for the sport, you might say. I’m older than Fabs, been around the block a few times and I’ve ploughed my share of fertile ground . . . so I guess I just want to prove to myself that I’ve still got it, or at least some of it (maybe just a little?) – yes, pathetic, but true. And, as you already know, I’m a married man.

    Here is a photo from last year – my wife and I and some friends enjoying the sunset.


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    Last edited by Kahuna3; 02-01-2012 at 06:54 PM.
    My Books:

    Walk Good - Sunset Negril - Night Nurse
    Available @ www.amazon.com - search 'Roland Reimer'

  2. #22
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    Great pic! Now after that description, I want to see a pic of Fabio too!
    Have a safe flight this weekend and enjoy your guy time on the beach! Sounds like it's going to be a lot of fun!
    Carpe Diem

  3. #23
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    Well seeing as I have a few of your books and LOVE them, I'm in big time!~~ Have Big Fun Roland.
    "I'll love you till the stars fall out of the sky "

    :cool

  4. #24
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    I also am starting your book on this trip, so I hope to run into you again. Safe travel, enjoy your stay and am looking forward to your read.

  5. #25
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    OMG this is gonna be good! Can't wait!!!!!!! It's sounding like another book.

  6. #26
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    Enjoyed your pre trip report and the background on what to expect on this trip. I would like to know more about your books so I can read some , I LOVE to read it's one of my favorite things to do. Can you provide a few details of some of your favorite books you have written. I would like to read some. Looking forward to the report, 5 weeks is a nice stay

  7. #27
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  8. #28
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    Shorts on the Door

    Three days and I’m off to the rock! Now the beat of the countdown is quickening . . . before, the days dragged – now I feel like I’m running out of prep time! I can't wait to hit the beach.

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    As I mentioned earlier, the first part of this trip it will be me solo for a few days. I don’t really have any plans for that time, other than a vague notion that I’ll rent a motor-bike and scout out some long-term accommodations for next year. Truthfully, I like having no plans. From previous experience I know that Negril will keep me entertained until Fabs arrives.

    Speaking of Fabs, just so you know - I’m going to write the whole Fabs episode as a ‘GUY’ trip report. Those parts will be unvarnished and unapologetic; a candid look at what two typical guys (but mostly Fabs) do when they are on the loose in Negril. So there’s a good possibility that women will not enjoy reading it. Remember I said I was feeding my muse? Well someday I’m going to write a full-on ‘guy’ novel, so I’ll be using the Fabs parts to try that style, see how it feels. I’ll be stepping out of my normal writing voice.

    In my ‘guy voice’ I won’t be talking about what I had for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and I won’t be listing all of the drinks that I consume or every spliff that I may partake of, except incidentally. You can take it as a given that I will be eating, drinking and maybe participating in the occasional pass-around toke.

    And I’m going to leave my feelings totally out of it. Also, I’m not going to be posting any photos (no photos of food sitting on a plate, or self-portraits of myself holding the camera at arm’s length). I mean, I enjoy the photos that are posted on the board, but for this part of my report, I feel that photos would be a distraction to the story. (For the ‘guy’ parts, I think the images conjured in the mind of the reader will be more powerful than real photos could ever hope to be). Call me old-school - but don’t call me late for dinner.

    In the interest of getting my head into Negril, I’m going to relate another Fabs story from a previous trip. I hope I don’t offend anyone. I expect that Rob might do some judicious redacting, but let’s see how it goes.

    For Fabs’ first trip we shared a room. That didn’t pan out too well; Fabs being a ladies man, the logistics of him entertaining his girlfriends and me having access to the room were – ah – difficult at times. One night during his first trip I came back quite late to the room, dead-tired and ready to crash. I hadn’t seen Fabs for a few hours; we’d gotten separated at The Jungle. Anyhow, I headed up to our room and when I got to the top of the stairs I saw a pair of Fabs’ beach shorts hanging on the door knob.

    Crap! . . . the universal sign.

    I crept up to the door, real quiet like, and put my ear to it. Inside there was all this moaning and “Yah, baby” and all that. (Which, oddly, are the same noises that I make when I slip into a hot tub.) I probably listened a little longer than I should have, but it wasn’t so long that anyone could rightly call me a pervert.

    So I went down to the gazebo and tried to get comfortable on a chair. I’ve got to tell you, I wasn’t too happy about it. It was windy and chilly down there and the waves were crashing on the beach making all this noise and I couldn’t get to sleep. About an hour later I went back up to the room and the shorts were still hanging there, so I listened again and it was all quiet this time. I figured they were done, so I pounded on the door and Fabs says, “Yah?” I told him it was getting late, like, way late, and he said for me to come back in ten minutes.

    I gave them fifteen and when I finally got back into the room I had to air it out because it smelled like a brothel in there. I told Fabs that I didn’t think it was too cool to be locked out of the room - like, we weren’t exactly college kids. So he apologized and said it wouldn’t happen again – and we were cool again.

    The next morning I was lying in bed, just waking up. Fabs was in the shower. There was a knock at the door. I got up and yanked my beach shorts on and opened the door. A frazzled looking young woman was standing there. She looked at me and did a double-take, then looked beyond me into the room.

    “Is Clint here?” she asked.

    Clint is not Fabs real name, but it is one of several that he uses on the beach. So I said, “Yeah, hold on a minute.” I went to the bathroom door; the shower was still running. I pushed the door open and yelled, “Hey, Clint – there’s a young lady at the door looking for you.”

    He said, “Huh? – just a second . . .”

    The shower stopped running and a moment later Fabs came out of the bathroom dripping wet with a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was still all shampooed up.

    The young lady looked at Fabs and said, “Have you got my panties? I want my panties.”

    “What?! No! I don’t have your panties,” Fabs said, and he held his arms out like he was a total innocent bystander.

    I’m thinking, ‘Wow!’ - must be a pretty schmancey pair of panties for this young woman to show up so early and come looking for them. And then I wondered if Fabs actually did have her panties – I wouldn’t put it past him.

    So she says, “Yah well, I don’t have them, and I when you kicked me out of here last night I’m pretty sure that I left without them!”

    Standing there watching this discourse I suddenly felt very uncomfortable; I hadn’t felt so out of place since I randomly walked into a Hollister store; so I went out onto the balcony to give them some space and to check out the day.

    They looked around the room, Fabs clutching his towel around his waist. Eventually the young lady found her panties under the bed. She stuffed them into her pocket, turned around and left, leaving the door open. She didn’t look too happy, kind of huffy and self-conscious. It seemed to me that maybe she had a touch of morning-after remorse.

    Fabs stood looking at the open door. Then he shrugged his shoulders and muttered, “So long . . . and thanks for the mammaries.” Then he went back to finish his shower.

    Needless to say, after that first trip together, we got separate rooms – it just works out better that way.
    Last edited by Kahuna3; 01-26-2012 at 01:29 PM.
    My Books:

    Walk Good - Sunset Negril - Night Nurse
    Available @ www.amazon.com - search 'Roland Reimer'

  9. #29
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    I really look forward to reading about your visit - especially the "guy" part...and Im a lady!

  10. #30
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    LMAO!!!!!!!
    Bring on the "Guys" story, I ain't skerrred! hahahahaha

    I am thinking we are going to hear a lot of these stories from good ole Fabs (aka Clint, aka .........)





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