Maury Finkle, Finkles Fixtures and Fittings….. do it…. do it….

May 8, 2007

Maury Finkle, Finkles Fixtures and Fittings….. do it…. do it….

ahhhhh… it’s too well read here sometimes to say what is actually going on behind the scenes of all the tea drinks and Gecko dreams.....

Anyways - the last couple of weeks the pace of life has stepped up a notch - which is not suited to Malawi style pa-ng’ono pa-ng’ono (slowly-slowly)

Where to start??

Well Friday nights adventures took place in Blantyre rather than the usual Lakeside setting due to being asked by Aubrey of Twigga lounge to play the role of DJ (ie: man with Computer and ability to select decent music in the right order and make people dance) on the following Saturday. Saturdays gig could of done with better promotion (rival bar ripped down hastily arranged posters), better acoustics (speakers arranged by a mongoloid, tin roof, poor treble feedback on system) and no door fee (everyone spent their money on the hectic Friday night previous that I had originally asked to play instead) - but all in all it went cool as it could - 40 to 50 people dancing till 3am and smiling faces abounding.

Apart from the bit when a giant fat girl tried to kill/eat a slimy little bald headed Indian dude and made all the stunning Danish women stop shaking their asses and run back to their seats in the corner.

Friday night was the one though - I headed to locals club in town called Tuska which is run by friends Sanjay and Lorenzo - they’ve had a refurbishment of late and the place actually looks like a club now, rather than a cave with some speakers in it as it did before - one of the additions to the place is Sanjays Cocktail Bar of Death - named now by myself due to the Kryptonite juice poured down my throat in the form of possibly one of most potent alcoholic concoctions know to man - The Flaming Lamborghini Turbo Shooter:

This is the reason my evening cannot be recalled in full due to the fact that as a result of it’s powers I am now missing around 4 hours of my life and had a serious Coyote Ugly moment when I awoke the next morning.

At this point I should mention that my most feared enemies in the alcoholic world are:

• Sambuca - (after an unfortunate upchuck incident meaning no kissing the living-down-the-road-from-me-for-the-last-10-years never pulled before gorgeous girl goodbye at leaving party back in 2005).
• Tequila - (after an unfortunate Sambuca/Tequila idiot barman shot mix up with Lockey in a London club back in 2006 - he was trying to set fire to Tequila one side while I was necking a Sambuca/Salt/lemon combo that led to yet another upchuck incident once again).
• Rum - (because it’s Rum and therefore it’s fucking disgusting).

Unbeknown to me at the time, these black riders of the alcoholic apocalypse made up three of the four ingredients in this little short, sharp, shock of concentrated evil known as the Flaming Lamborghini Turbo - therefore, this particular shooter is like an Alcoholic version of Arachnophobia for me, as the drink is made up as follows:

• Starts with a glass containing 1 x shot of Stro 80 Rum which is then set on fire - (because when doing something stupid like drinking one of these, it makes warped sense to add fire to an already dangerous concoction of alcohol - sort of like someone came up with the recipe and then said “Fuck it, for all the sense this makes, it may as well be on fucking fire”.....)
• .....Anyways - Being quick with a straw, you dive in and drain the first shot of rum before the straw melts and.....
• .....as the rum disappears, the barman adds a shot of Sambuca, which you cane in the same breath, continuing…
• .....as the Sambuca disappears with a shot of Tequila poured the same way which is then....
• ..... followed by a shot of Amarula (African style Baileys type liqor) to top it all off - all down at the same time
•...... Also be careful not to get too close to the flames (as my singed eyebrows will testify)

I had 3 or 4 of these in reasonably quick succession, which is why I can’t really tell you much more about the evening apart from the fact that after hitting the cold night air at around 4am, I violently projectile vomited all over the place behind my car in the style of that little girl from the Exorcist.

And John told me that bit.

He said it was a really fine moment - I just sort of barked & barfed it all out and then went about as though nothing had happened.

It was a good night apparently.

Talking of the cold night air the weather here has gone British - it’s more than a bit nippy out it has to be said - and when packing for Africa back in January, I didn’t exactly stock up on jumpers and jackets - now everyones got a cold and the locals look like they’re all going on a skiing trip - for the British of course it’s mild, but the nights drop down to about 15-19c which can be a bit parky when you sitting around in shorts and T-shirt. I’m going to have to get me a thicker blanket than a bed sheet me thinks - or spend more time at the lake which never really gets cold at all.

In other news there has thankfully been no further recriminations from the incident of the Legend of Moonbat Morning - if anything the police (who I’m now on first name/face recognition terms with) have been far more friendlier - waving me through the frequent road blocks that hold up Limbe traffic all day - seems like I have bought a little more than freedom for my money.

Yuni having her problems in Jakarta and says it seems like all matters in life are against her and the world spins in exactly the opposite direction she needs it to - that city can really get on top of you sometimes and she sure sounds like she’s had enough - feels lost and alone and no idea what to do next - what else can I say other than she’s got me and I’m waiting with Beach bars, hammocks & sunsets at the end of the year? - she’s now asking more questions about how we get Visa’s, organise plane tickets along with thinking about how her family can access Western Union that side - so, seems like she is more likely to come than not when the big move is made come 2008ish time - I love it when a plan comes together.

Phone calls from head office asking if I can come back early and questioning further as to why I want to delay my transfer from UK books to those of the Dutch - I lied like a politician and deflected all queries with bureaucratically bullshitting excellence - I’m here till 28th June and there’s no way I’m leaving any earlier than I have to - seems like things over in Holland are getting hectic with new people needing training and too many of the old guard leaving unexpectedly - that as I have the experience to train, I could take the heat off a bit - but parallel to that they are also making murmurs about the moving of the books and the marrying of UK wage and Holland wage with UK living costs and Holland living costs - which spells out SALARY REDUCTION in my mind - which is cool as that gives me the perfect out when time comes to sit down and tell them I’m jacking it all in for lakeside living and a beach bar existence.

And that there’s no changing my mind as I’ve already got the tattoo.

Right - more planning of the weekend Gecko playlist of perfection - there’s 15 Danish women coming our way along with a crew of others - and if they all look like the 5 that were dancing in front of the decks at Twigga on Saturday night then it truly will be an evening to remember.

As long as I don’t have any more Flaming Fucking Lamborghini Fucking Turbo’s.

Spo | May 8, 2007