So, Yves untimely (or timely dending on whether you work in fashion or not) was cause for me to celebrate a new hairstyle. Gone is my YSL coiffure, and in is a brand spanking new hairstyle. I keep bumping in to the guy who gave me the haircut. mmmm. He got in to a scuffle last night outside the peliqueria, and I would have gone to his rescue but for the madman chasing him with a long piece of wood. Speaking of last night, no one in the area that I know of has lost eyes, fingers or body parts as a result of the fiesta. A shame really, because those stupid fireworks have continued well in to this evening. I have almost lost my hearing.
So, to relax after a bad night´s sleep, I went to the gym today, then finished it off with a cycle to the beach. I`m lying there, in my bathers, in the nudie area as you do, and then I decide (after turning a shade of pink) that it is time to go home. I am getting my bike ready when I see the guy that I had been staring at for the previous hour motions me over to him. I go over, and between his and my spanglish, we strike up quite the conversation. He is lying, stomach on the towel, but otherwise naked. OMG..... Sadly, I would have stayed longer but had to meet someone within the next 15 minutes, so couldn`t stay. he got up off the towel, and you should have seen his sausage. FCUK. It is I think the second biggest that I have ever seen in real life. The other was also in Barcelona, but in the discrete presence of a toilet wall! I am glad we didn`t exchange numbers...he wasn`t going to put that thing any where near my ´tight´bits. But I can`t get the image out of my mind. I hope I don`t sleepwalk in to the fridge and eat the rest of Lluis´s sausage (a gift from friends all the way from the basque country).
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