From milkmaids & chocolate boys

Strolling along the beach at Santa Maria, I count the 57th milkmaid/chocolate boy couple of the day. There are far more chocolate child pairings here than single malts. There are hardly any white Fickingers to be found. The black lads are crisp, the white girls are willing and the hormones are running amok.

As a white man here, you’re about as sexy as a piss-yellow olm with dorsal fur, as sought-after as scabies spread for breakfast, as popular as an oven-blasting flatmate on meth – and you’re right at the top of the endangered species list anyway. This is exactly how the dinosaurs must have felt after the comet impact.

Somehow I understand the girls. Redtube gave us a clear explanation of the gender-specific differences between black and white males. The longest chocolate in the world, Emma and the children’s chocolate advert did the rest. Yet another enamoured-looking milkmaid with a Duplo Schlong™ on her paw passes by. The sea shines turquoise, the sand is hot and white. The sun beats down on my head and suddenly it’s there: penis envy!

For decades, Germanic femininity told us that size was not the decisive factor. In Rostock, this may still be true today, although sadly only in terms of brain mass. Only the lesbians from Four Non Blondes sang “Bigger! Better! Faster! More!”, but not even our camel-boot-wearing combat knitters believed them back then. But when I look around Sal now, I can only think of one thing: we’ve been taken for a clean ride. Size does matter!

That’s probably why Germany is dying out. I certainly wouldn’t want to breed in the cold if I’d just spent two weeks on holiday getting perma-banged. Sure, at home we call it career planning. We’re not Japanese. But the next time you’re dating a lovely blonde at home and she takes a magnifying glass out of the bedside cabinet instead of condoms, I know exactly where she was last on holiday: here. And how you feel now.

“The black man just likes to snack a bit more”, our dear Princess Gloria von Thurn und Taxis stated a few years ago to an outcry from the politically correct. If you combine this statement with knowledge of German history, our Super Schlong™ hunters kill two birds with one stone: relaxation and international understanding. Stop! Three. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife. Germany is almost 5,000 kilometres away. That’s anything but close, and Cape Verdean Catholicism remains blatantly kosher.

A Senegalese beach vendor steps into my path. “Want a bracelet?” “No, thanks.” “Come on, just buy one for your wife!” “I don’t have a wife.” The Senegalese man beats his chest and proudly announces with a grin: “I have three wives.” I suggest that I buy him two bracelets if he gives me two wives in return. But he doesn’t find it funny. Neither do I.

So I just buy him a really nice black ebony penis and whistle a song from the brilliant Element Of Crime record “Fremde Federn”. “No thanks, no need to wrap it up, that’s fine.” On the way home along the beach, my black ebony penis draws the expected number of lustful milkmaid glances. Instantly raises my self-esteem by about 25cm.

The crowning glory of every other evening is a visit to the reggae rooftop bar. If Sal is Thailand for tots, then this bar is
this bar is Pattaya, Soi 13, where every milkmaid gets her own private dance pole. The hunt begins. The Super-Slongs™ wear an “S” on their T-shirts. Only the luxury females dare to go after this big game. This comes at a price, because paying for food and drink is quite expensive on Cape Verde, and big game is naturally very thirsty.

The indecisive middle class likes to play “hit on and be rebuffed”. But it’s the hunting of the lower class that’s really amusing, e.g. the ugly daughter with her boozy mum from Manchester. Between them sits the dream of her black nights. I hope they have separate rooms. And the hunted chocolate thug has had a lot of blind booze, at least two condoms and a sufficient supply of Viagra, because even he is guaranteed to need it today.

I dedicate the following morning to increasing my market value. Unfortunately, there is no black shoe polish or penis pumps for sale anywhere in Santa Maria. My self-esteem plummets again. Doomed to extinction, I sit down in a café with my legs apart. A black man asks me for a fag again. I try to be happy that I am at least still satisfying my oral cravings.

If I have to die out, then at least I want to earn something from it. In the afternoon, I start planning a new website. “Fuck-o-verde: where women are still whole men. Or: send your lady shave on holiday!”. First I design a snazzy Super-Schlong™ logo analogue to eBay’s free shipping. Profile pictures of the big game along with specific Super-Schlong™ performance data will then make it easier for the milkmaids to plan their holiday from the comfort of their couch at home. I might even repurpose Bumbum Boris’ old Telekom advertising slogan: “I’m in! That’s easy!”. But when I look at it soberly, it will probably seem like discrimination against black chambermaids. Okay, let’s leave that out.

Just as I’m finalising the details of this diabolical plan at a late hour in another bar, something suddenly happens to me. The Finnish girls next to me, who were still carrying chocolate yesterday, no longer know me today. But directly opposite me sits a shiny brown breast with plenty of bling-bling. Smoothly shaved slim calves peek out of the capris. Tasteful rings adorn the long chocolate fingers. My salivation increases. Then my gaze wanders upwards. High cheekbones shimmer in the night. But the make-up of the vehemently feminised chocolate boy and his killer mohawk somehow scare me. I sneak home.

Instead of proof pictures, there are just island pictures. Couple pictures already earned me a nasty beating a few times during my social studies in Pattaya in 2008. It would certainly have been intelligent to post this article after my departure date. But something has to happen here, and sexual abstinence obviously makes you stupid. If this is my last blog post: my murderer is probably black, wears a super-slong™ over 25 cm and is currently snogging a milkmaid in the reggae rooftop bar to the Redemption song.