Monday, February 19, 2007

Celebrity Yacht Race - Buff's Drug Running Sensation!

Its been a nervous 48 hours waiting for the Buff-meister to check in. We even had a call from BS's old mum Mrs Staysail back in her nursing home in Brisbane who was worried sick, saying he hadn't rung her in two whole days! Given the anomalous charges on the credit card there was a time when we feared for the worse.

And we were right to be concerned. Due to time constraints its probably best to just cut and paste Buff's email straight in and you can make of it what you will.

You've got to help me JP, you've got to I just don't know what to do they've got my passport they'll be after me soon, god, the cockroaches, you've no idea how big they get. It's not my fault I swear, I didn't know what they'd be up to.

See it was like this. I was in this bar chatting up these girls and they were dead keen I could tell and they wanted to move on to this club, never heard of it but sounded real swanky just the thing that would close the deal you know what I mean and don't you breath a word of this to my old mum.

Off we went and it was all glitz and gold, mirrors and black furniture, not my cup of tea, but the girls liked it and we were getting on just fine and then I spotted the group in the next table were the shore crew of that boat "Rolex Posse" which caused all that trouble at the start when they wanted to call their entry something else so dammed rude even the sailors wouldn't have it. There looked a mean bunch too, called themselves the G-unit.

But I couldn't help listening to what they were saying and caught something about them meeting its crew, 50 Cents and Young Buck, near Casablanca to do some business. So of course I go over and say hi but they didn't want to know. But I thought I'd get some sort of scoop so asked them right off what was wrong with the boat that meant they had to get a pit stop in Casablanca.

Maybe then they guessed they knew I was into sailing not just any old hanger on, but after hearing I knew about Casablanca they sort of warmed up and chatted a bit about the race till one of them - I could never work out who was who - asked if I wanted to come along. Of course I said yes thinking it would be just like Ibiza and I'd get the in-side track again.

They said they'd take me along if I'd pay their tab - of course I said ok thinking it would be just a few beers but they'd been on Crystal all evening so had a sort of heart attack when they gave me the bill - and it wasn't to be the first shock, if only I'd known then.

They then went off to this other club which they said was a lap dancing club and again said I'd have to pay for a round if I wanted in and they made it pretty clear I would be in big trouble if I didn't say yes but they also said if the deal goes through they'd pay it back and some though that was some stiff bills for just a lap dance if you know what I mean.

After a bit I was pretty hammered and just wanted to get out and crash at the hotel but they wouldn't let me go, the old Buff magic I guess, 'cos I was telling a few of the yarns about sea life.

They liked that and suggested I tag along for the ride and fool that I was said yes, must have been the whisky we had been on. So right early in the morning, must have been nearly 4 ish, we got into their speed boat, pretty minimal it was apart from these two huge motors, and headed off.

I thought they were idiots, they forgot to switch on the running lights, and was about to tell them when my stomach had one of its turns. You know I'm generally a good sailor so must have been the drink or the hour of the motion of the boat which was right fierce 'cos once we were out of the harbour they really put on the revs.

So there I was puking in one corner and when I looked up they were cleaning guns! Can you imagine it! Of course I asked what the hell they were playing at but they just called me a pussy and said when got the heroin aboard "Rolex Posse" the could sail it across to Miami and no one would ask why they were a day late.

I almost blurted it out there and then. Those idiots had no idea that all the yachts in the fleet are tracked by satellite. So most likely the police would be wondering what 50 cent was up to and if they were asking questions then yours truly would be right up shits creak. Whether it was a fire fight or a drug running prison sentence either way ol' Buff was in it up to his eye brows.

We powered on till we say the Open 60 anchored by a sheltered bay with its crew smoking fat cigars on the cabin. The G-unit had the cash and the gear to do the transaction so headed into shore to meet with their contact.

This I could see was my one and only chance, and I asked to go too. They weren't at all keen but with my hurling left right and centre they could see the shore might be a good idea.

First chance I had I was off and just in time because not 10 minutes later the police turned up with speed boats and a helicopter and there was this right old gun fight and half the G-unit got shot and the other half nicked and your truly lay as low as he'd ever laid in his life.

I reckon they were waiting till the transaction took place so they had evidence on all of them. Anyhow I didn't wait to find out though you've probably heard all about the charges on the news.

So walked for miles and miles till found this hotel not much but I wasn't going to sniff at it as it was on the beach and was trying to attract the western tourist so they like the idea of an Ozzie from down under. Well they liked it until I presented my credit card and bang did the smiles go just like that. I say my credit card and yes maybe really its yours JP but it was a mean trick to cancel it you have no idea what trouble thats caused.

The owner here thinks I'm trying to con him and maybe he'll call the police and then god you know what will happen then I just can't risk so he's got my passport and made me clean in the kitchen till the money comes which I've promised it will and its just hell in there. The heat, the noise, they all are yelling and I have no idea what anyone of them is saying and then at night there's this cupboard sized room with a mattress on the floor and the cockroaches scuttle across you so you can't sleep and I just had time to get to the internet cafe and beg 5 minutes.

So you must JP old thing must ring the hotel and pay by cc I just can't stand it anymore. And get me out of here anywhere before the cops come round.

This is Buff in a right old mess, signing off.

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