Paradise Chronicles

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything so I thought about starting a blog series called the Paradise Chronicles, which basically entails about life in Bermuda from a locals perspective.

For those who don’t know much about Bermuda, the first thing you must know is that it’s small…tiny even, at only 21 square miles you can drive around the island 5 times in one day and still have time to spare, so over time you can run out of things to do, so we get creative.

Summer time is the best, with beach parties and raft-ups galore; which is when you attach boats to each other in the sea and have one massive boat party, BBQ’s, friendly people and drinks aplenty. It’s hard not to smile.

The island itself? Is beautiful, I’ve been to most of the North Western quarter of the world but my home remains the prettiest, can’t wait to visit Asia though, I hear it’s amazing there too, but below is a shot of the sunset a beach near my place.

Image result for bermuda

Work wise? I cant hate on it at all, people here are relaxed, paychecks are big and there’s no income tax…. soo it’s a nice place to save dollaz. After living in Barcelona for University I’ve always thought of moving back, so i’ll work my ass off in real estate here for that sexy apartment in Catalunya, but until then…No worries

Life is good in paradise.

How not to study for a final exam

What would you say is the normal thing to do on the eve of a final exam? Stay in…cram your ass off and hope to Christ you remember everything when the time comes… not I on this particular night.

Summer of 2010, I spent living with McCone in Barca to write my thesis…and Bergholdt from How Men Drink said he was coming back with friends for a few days.

Misfortune meant we couldn’t meet until his last night…. which was the night before my final… yaaayyy :D.

McCone left town to be with his family, but before he left I asked to him call me at 8 tomorrow morning in case things got out of hand.

I asked the new neighbours to knock on my door as well…. to be safe.

Meeting at a sushi spot for dinner I meet everyone and we started storing up for heavy drinking later…. we decided to have a few beers there of course. 😉

After dinner he said pre-drinks were at his flat and we’ll meet in a bit… so I prep for the night and grab a near full bottle of vodka from the fridge.

When I get there and plop the bottle on the table and he looks to me and says…

“Great…. That’s your bottle.”

Huh???? All that’s already planned just for me?

I soon found out why…we played a Danish card game and I turned out to be complete shit and had to down a glass of vodka for every loss…. And I lost every time!!

I went through the vodka in 15 minutes, and it turned out I had owed a drink since the bottle ran out…thus Bergholdt instantly shared his whiskey and poured me a massive shot to down…. What a friend.

I take it like a champ and we go to the club…where he bought more Vodka bottles in VIP… mas alcohol mas!!

He bought a total of 3 bottles and as the girls quit drinking for the night it was up to us to prevent wasting.

Flirting with a hot Russian I couldn’t form a sentence…or successive steps. Yet somehow I managed to get home…can’t remember how though. :/

Anyways… McCone called me at 8am like I asked, and I woke up, face planted on the floor….and then passed out. The neighbours then knocked, I thought it was a dream…eventually 30 minutes after my exam started my University calls me.

“Where are you?” they ask.

My response…..”Meh”

Eventually I gather myself and managed to make it to the exam near passing out. My professors instantly noticed my condition and asked if I went out last night.

“Yup”

He smirks and just points me to my seat so I can make up for lost time.

I scored an A-, now that’s how to study for an exam 😉

Barcelona Nights: New Neighbours

While writing my thesis during summer 2010, McCone (from How men Drink 2) and I had to find a new flat because Gasp had to leave for Miami.

When moving in we noticed 3 other people were moving in at the same time next door, all French and here on internships. Bumping into the girl of the group (gorgeous too) the first question she asks me is.

“Ummm… would you might know where I can find some weed?”

JACKPOT!! A pretty girl that blazes…. that is a sign of a good summer to come.

It didn’t end there as the 2 guys were up for going drinking that night, as they had cousins visiting. I agreed but McCone had family errands to attend to so I had to investigate the new crew on my own.

As the contingents join forces we go to a shot bar and drink everything from Absinthe to inflamed Cointreau. After a few go outside for a smoke and chat… standing in a group and chatting to the person next to me, I suddenly feel a tug on my bet and the hear the words…

“I want your ‘bit’.”

Bit??? Assuming it meant dick, I ask one of them to confirm my suspicions and I was right…..It does mean dick.

At this point I cant either a.) Bitch out and not get laid or b.) Accept the offer and have some fun.

Being a slut at the time I emphatically chose option b.), pulling ‘Ms.Bit’ across I challenge her to kiss me…so we do…. A lot.

We decide going home together would be the most fun but the group convinces us to go clubbing with them.

Following at our own pace we opted to go into an alley for a second…assuming we wouldn’t have much time she lifts her skirt and we have a quick doggy-style session. A few people walked past but in Barcelona you see stuff like that all the time so nobody really gave a shit.

Eventually we have to move on as our crew started shouting our names but as the night wore on we realized it was best to just go back to the bar for more shots.

The crew was really cool and the girl was having a good time 😉 but we soon called it a night. I didn’t get to take ‘Ms.Bit’ back to the house because her cousins wanted the family to stick together and so I went to sleep.

In the morning I wake up to find a note under my front door and it read:

“Randy, You are magic!”

Hehe…. That’s what she said.

The Stoke Chronicles

After splitting 4 joints the previous night I noticed it was time to get up for work the next evening which was…. A boat party.

Picking up a burger cuz I didn’t fully satisfy my munchies, I walk on to the boat to see 30+ hot blondes n’ brunettes waiting on the dock in booty shorts and skimpy tops…. nice…

Providing an extra initiative to get shit ready faster, the boat was fully stacked with girls out numbering men 3-1, as we left on time.

Grabbin’ a beer, the party gets started…. I see people dancin’, drinkin’ and grindin’… and just having a good time … so I think to myself.

“Damn, I love this job… How the hell is this a job???”

Dancin’ as the boat hops over wave after wave, it’s hard to notice the difference between my co-workers and the guests… because everyone is getting smashed.

With white girls who shake their ass better than most black women I know… to our very own ladies man (who tamed 6 dancers from Finland)… I’d say this Stoke crew is something for the record books.

Partying amongst a great blend of wild dancers and wasted youths you find yourself havin’ so much fun you forget your cruisin’ along the coast of Barcelona, Spain.

Possessing sights that can blow your mind away, you can find yourself in awe of its beauty…until one of the girls start gettin’ low right in front of you…. Then any man’s attention would switch over to one thing… ASS!!

With a never-ending flow of alcohol and good tunes you can discover yourself quotin’ lyrics from legendary ganja-smokers like Notorious B.I.G. and Kid Cudi with your umpteenth beer in hand.

Eventually after 2 hours of madness we made it back to port, but things were far from over…. whether the after-party continued in the bar, club or the bedroom, everyone continued to have  a stoked time. 😉

Mid-party I remember having a wild thought which was,

“Fuck being good to go to Heaven…. because I’m already there.”

Care to join the party? Look us up at Stoke Travel.

Promo Code: Randy

P.S. I’m not entirely sure, but I may have completed all of the above with a dislocated toe… but in a city like Barcelona, you’re never really sober enough to figure it out. Come here and you’ll see. 😉

Living with Women (Part 2)

Since there is no possible way I can manage to fit everything that I learned from 9 months of living with 13 women into one post, I thought I’d pitch in a few more….

As a male, the word ‘plan’ is quite difficult for us to understand, we wake up when we want and do what we want, without prior thought. But I realized only into my first week that these girls run on self-made schedules that kept them occupied doing things I would never imagine doing.

For instance, in the life of a male a Saturday morning doesn’t exist…because its in our genes to either a.) get home late from the club and pass out or b.) sleep right through it… thus we never experience it.

Not these ladies…they’re going out for runs at 9 or 10am, fully equipped with tights and the latest footwear, and often I’d walk into them…coming home from the club.

We have a chat and talk about their plans for the day; then they ask how my night was and what I planned on doing. Since I’m running on all sorts of chemicals, I refrain from the graphic details of my naughty night and give the basics, such as “It was fucking amazing” and “I’ll see you when I wake up.”

The plans didn’t stop there however… I would often walk into the kitchen and see decorations going up, seeing balloons and glitter I would give them a funny look and ask what’s going on. “Oh it’s Mexican night we told you about if a few days ago…. But we’re pretty sure you were high.”

I probably was… but before I met these girls I never had a plan…I had just finished a Eurotrip, going without a second thought for which city I was travelling to the next day.  Yes!!! Freedom!!! If I woke up and felt like going to Madrid then that’s where I was gonna’ fuckin’ be that evening.

But eventually their plans got to me…. yes, they infected me…. But it’s a good infection, because if they didn’t barrage me with all their plans, I would have never thought about checking for work in Barcelona and then coming down here to evaluate the environment, considering the crisis and all.

I would’ve probably stayed somewhere in cloudy ol’ England and wouldn’t have the amazing job I have now with Stoke Travel. So plans are valuable…but you still will never see me awake before noon on a Saturday though.

Fuck… that….