Oh, man! Why does Lydie want to drag me to some samba place?! She says it should be good fun, I doubt it, but you don’t mess with pregnant women! She’s the queen! It’s true that there are not many people, but the party’s caliente.. so we move our bodies like crazy and we hope to like something oh keeeyy! I try to figure out the moves a girl’s doing, til I figure it out she’s a Dutch married to a Brazilian guy. No time to waste it on some white chik. I turn to some maestro who’s turning girls around on the floor. I try to shake it like the guru’s girls. He seems inadequacy in my sailorboy’s hips. He corrects it, good work!
Well one band of Brazilian is better than two bands of Brazilian, so we hit it off to the next club. The Super Club. All seems prepared for a night with your favourite torturer. Close your eyes, I have a surprise for you – Inquisition is here! Chains, balls, handcuffs, all you need in one room. And bed instead of chairs! This was one of my tripping images, to lie down at a show, well, some one saw it before me, ‘cause it was done.. And they had the hetero toilet and the gay toilet. If you’re a smoker, you can only do it in the gay toilet. That’s the end of fun for discriminatory bastard smokers ;) after drinking too much, I suppose you need to get to the hetero toilet, the gigglish sensation of uh-they’re-boys-in-here, puts you warm to dancing at the poles just after..
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