Find Some Models For Wives

"Find some models for wives." Today's title and therefore quiz question. It's a line from a brilliant song, about pretending, but not everyone pretends. In the other-worldly high-life of Mallorca, there are models for wives, and perhaps even some models for husbands. And that high-life is at its highest around water - that on top of which a luxury yacht bobs - if such tonnage could ever be said to bob - or that which laps gently at the side of the villa pool while an attendant serves the fruit cocktail, having first peeled the grapes. The boat world and the luxury real-estate market.

I'm only guessing but I reckon she was a model for wife. I met this German chap. He had become Bronze-Aged, a mobile hardwood, a mahogany, from which could be cut, moulded, hewn and crafted the finest furniture. There is a breed of German that is unrecognisable as Caucasian, as that term is generally applied and which I suppose is slightly ironic. It is difficult to state for certain what category this particular Germanic tribe falls into, other than that of solar man or woman. So much sun has transformed its members that they, were they plugged into the grid, could generate enough energy to keep northern Mallorca in lights and air-conditioning for a whole season. They are their own solar panels. He, this particular chap, both owned a yacht and ran an estate agency. Two models for wives maybe. The one with him was gorgeous - and a good trio of decades younger. She was blonde, which does not, by itself, preclude transformation into a species from a tropical forest, but she had seemingly eschewed the further profession of sunbed resident.

Germans, in my experience, spend half their lives on their backs smelling of Piña Colada sun lotion and the other half in medical facilities. It was once put to me that they are a nation of hypochondriacs. Much of that has to do with having a wonderful and very available health system, and also paying for it and making damn sure you get a return from it. It's just as well that there is such a good system, given that many of them are walking, talking skin disease. However, they may end up looking like the Ents from "Lord of the Rings", but it doesn't stop them having models for wives.


And the first burst of reasonably warm weather has tempted the early tourists to discard their clothing with a gusto and take to the streets in a display of flesh, huge amounts of it. Notwithstanding the occasional German who could be mistaken for a large and perambulating Cadbury's Flake, most of those stumbling, squint-eyed into the first heat and sun they would have encountered for several months, are Milky Ways - or, in certain cases, the entire chocolate factory. Not, however, that Cadbury or Nestlé have yet to develop the full-fat milky bar with edible tattoos. Or maybe they have.

Now what was it that Clarkson said? "Big, fat ... knuckle-dragging, tattooed, pastry-faced ...". They won't be finding models for wives.


QUIZ
Yesterday's title - Monty Python's Spanish Inquisition; oh, and it was Cardinal Fang who fetched the comfy chair (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CSe38dzJYkY). Today's title - so, which American band is this?

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