Tag Archives: girls

Too Many D!cks on the Dancefloor

Maybe it’s because spring is in the air, or maybe it’s because it’s been too long since any of my extensive Polish harem came to visit me, but the Freak’s libido has been in overdrive in the last few weeks… with sorely disappointing results.

Nothing materialised after I somehow got this nice Catalan girl’s number at Sidecar (despite the fact I could barely speak)… the older Czech girl with enormous bazookas, who I met on a quiet night in Marula, gave me the briefest of snogs before disappearing down into the Liceu metro station and out of my life forever, whilst even my beloved Polish chicas have spurned my advances. One very cute veterinary sciences student from Wroclaw who I met at Crappy Tuesdays suggested we leave the club and take a night walk at the beach… but sadly she really did only want a night walk on the beach (WTF!). Hasn’t she read the Freak’s best-selling manual on sexual subtext?

No doubt much of my failings can be blamed on my lack of charisma, looks, money, confidence, height and all-round sexual appeal… but nonetheless I’m going to lay some of the blame for the lack of wild oat sowing going on in the Freak bedroom at the door of the Barcelona nightlife!

What I want to know is: where do all the freakin’ hot girls go at night? You seem them on the beach, you see them on Las Ramblas, you see them trundling around town looking cute on the Bicing bikes, but turn up to place where you might be able to interact with these cheeky chicas and 99 times out of 100 you find yourself sh!t out of luck… which is why most Sunday mornings I wake up with this song in my head:

I think I would be doing y’all a disservice if I didn’t reproduce the lyrics of this, my hymn to Barcelona:

Going to the party
Sippin’ on Bacardi
Wanna meet a hottie
But there’s Adam, Steve and Marty
There’s Billy, Todd and Tommy
They’re on leave from the army
The only boobs I’ll see tonight will be made of origami

Tell the fellas, make it understood
It ain’t no good if there’s too much wood
Make sure you know before you go
The dance floor bro-hoe ratio
Five to one is a brodeo
Tell Steve and Mike it’s time to go
Wait outside all night to find
Twenty dudes in a conga line

I imagine the best place to meet girls in Barcelona is a taxi ride to the Port Olimpic strip, where a host of pretentious lounge bars suck in the leggy blondes in short skirts looking for playboys to shell out the 15 euro cocktails on them. However for guys, nightlife on the Port Olimpic strip means wearing a shirt with a collar and shoes… and I for one am not getting in time machine and going back to the UK in the 90s! (Once the bouncer turned me down in my red clubbing T-shirt and sleek Puma sneakers to wave in a group of 15 guys wearing Primark jeans and stripey Next shirts).

As for the more authentic dance clubs or indie nights they’re regular ‘brodeos’, and what cute girls do turn up are usually surrounded by a posse of South American surfers, ‘hip’ skateboarders with ‘cool’ tattoos, and other assorted losers that impressionable alternative girls seem to think are second only to rock stars.

Well enough complaining. I’ve heard a rumour about a club in Poblenou that is full of hot and brazen Scandivanian girls with a 50/50 ratio and my Catalan friend assures me that simply to turn up at Plataforma on Nou de la Rambla is to guarantee a night of the horizontal honky tonky. Naturally I don’t put much store in either, but rest assured you’ll be the first to know if and when the fun times begin this summer…

Polish chicas, on the tourist trail and some clubbing

Just spent an enjoyable week entertaining two rather gorgeous girls from my erstwhile adopted homeland of Poland. It’s easy to be snobby about seeing a city from a tourist point of view but Barcelona really does pull out the stops when it comes to sightseeing and it was a pleasure to revisit all the greats with guests in tow… as well as get in some bikini time (the Polish girls, not me).

Having also done some fairly extensive club crawling I’m still not entirely satisfied by the Barcelona nightlife, and waiting to find my niche. We did Jamboree, Catwalk and Razzmatazz, but the first two are typical tourist fare and the latter is a just a huge crush (a night spent queuing in effect!) and def too much for a clubber of my advanced years. Did turn up a new place called Marula which may be worthy of a second look. Met a French DJ called Fred Spider and although I can’t recall very much of our 2 hour conversation I seem to remember we shared the same music taste and nightlife outlook… he plays there at weekends so I’ll get back to y’all if I get around to going.

Girls, Girls, Girls…

This blog is barely a couple of posts old and I’m already receiving – and taking – requests for topics. This one goes out to Big Al Barriga!

As Big Al (and I) have noticed, Barcelona is absolutely crammed full of smokin’ hot totty, cheeky chicas, sexy senoritas, bootiful babes, gorgeous gals, luscious ladies, badass bitches and dribble-inducing divas… what more can I say? Nothing really, which is why I’ve gone for a musical tribute instead. Here are my top five tunes about God’s greatest creations:

1) Peaches – Dub Pistols cover of Strangler’s classic feat. Rodney P

2) The Girls – Calvin Harris. If I was a boxer I would want this to be my grand entry tune…

3) Peaches – same name different track. Good BBQ song this one, by A. Skillz and Krafty Cuts

4) Girls – hmmm, not much variation on the names here, but I assure you they all sound different. Much silliness from the Beastie Boys.

5) Senorita – I can feel my impression coming on. No top 5 would be complete without a little JT in the mix.

Right, I’m sure I’ve missed some really obvious tracks here, so let me know and maybe we can make this a top 10! Girls, out of respect for sexual equality I give you boys, boys, boys…