The View From The Office Window Today

09/08/13 -- Yes folks, this is the view from my office window as I type right now. Royal Island in the Maldives. It's a bit like Blackpool, but without the tower, or the donkeys, or fish & chips, amusement arcades and drunken Glaswegians. And the sea is a bit of a different colour. And there's no dog pooh on the beach. And you can't buy the Sun.

The wifi works though, so I'm able to blog. Unfortunately, they appear to have the Mother and Father firewall of all firewalls in place which won't allow me to access my server (or even upload a pic to the net, the one used here is somebody else's that's already online), which is/has given me a few problems vis a vis uploading my daily market reports to the server to keep all my little content takers happy. Hopefully I've found a way around that problem, but I apologise for any interruption in service meanwhile.

This place is full of all sorts, many of whom we have already given nicknames.

Gunther the Munter is my particular favourite, although we also have our very own Posh & Becks. There's something VERY odd about a bloke (and I use the word loosely) who wears a skimpier swimsuit than his girlfriend/missus don't you think?

We're talking an up the crack of the arse thong arrangement (for him not her). At night he seems to like a see through shirt accompanied by an equally see through pair of kecks. See through kecks? When was the last time you went into Debenhams and said "can you show me to the see through kecks department please?" These offer a tantalising glimpse of the thong pants below to keep Posh on the hook so to speak. Lovely.

Posh doesn't appear to say or do a lot. Well nothing at all actually. He carries her around on his arm like a pouting Loius Vuitton inflatable doll.

Gunther happily doesn't appear to possess anything see through. An enormous t-shirt emblazoned with a giant hedgehog standing on it's hind legs (yes, I kid you not, they must have been gobsmacked in the shop when they finally sold one of those) is Gunther's evening attire.

Then we have the Ukraine Uphill Gardening Club. Not a team from the Whacky Races but a (very) close knit community of two rather tubby gentlemen in Adidas sports wear. They could just be mates on holiday together of course, we've all been away on a lads holiday after all have we not. The thing is I don't recall standing quite so close to my mates when in the pool as these Eastern European boys do. And they rub in the old factor 30 a little to lingeringly onto each other's backs if you ask me.

Not that I'm homophobic of course, perish the thought. As long as they don't do it in the street and frighten the horses etc. Unfortunately Dirk and Yuri are doing it in the pool and frightening the fruit bats (they don't have horses here) and the little Japanese ninja kid.

Then there's "the beautiful people" - she must be over 6 foot tall - and around 4 foot six of that is legs. She walks, talks, looks and acts like a catwalk model and wears very little indeed. In the evening, she dons the shortest shorts I've ever seen and plenty of upper half flesh on display too. In the daytime her bikini consists of four or five Versace shoe laces tied loosely together.

Stud muffin, towers over her. He also walks, talks, looks and acts like a catwalk model. (See, they can't ALL be gay). Think Mikel Arteta (Google him if you have too) only about two foot taller. From the back he looks like a giant inversed triangle on legs. Very tight Speedo's with a half cucumber stuffed down the front. At least I think it's a cucumber. I'm not eating any cucumber whilst I'm here just in case.

Gotta go, MrsN#3 needs lubing up...