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147. Vapor Rooms, Formaldehyde And The Turner Prize

Posted on: April 17th, 2012 by Colonel Crabtree-Smythe No Comments

jackie mason cartoonMore trouble, and it is me who seems to taking most of the flack, most of the weight as it were and really I feel I get a raw deal especially when it come to Sage and his belief system ! The man is a cretin, an ignoramus, utterly unable to grasp the simple fact that I do not care, not a jot what people think of me. I don’t play games of the heart nor am I an emotional blackmailer. I say what needs to be said and if that is to the detriment of the listener or the reader then tough titty I say!

Now I’m not one for talking out of turn but i finally have to spill the beans regarding Sages obsession with the Dalston vapor rooms. Where he has a penchant for a young Turkish masseuse called Eralkan . Now Eralkan is a master of the anal scrape and they call him “the scraper” in the Turkish mens club where coffee is drunk and hashish is smoked to the nines!

In other words Sage enjoys a good sack and butt crack wax and has become infatuated with the young buck Turk Eralkan… I’ve seen Sage hop on the number 73 bus and head down to Dalston clutching his man bag like a Soho tart, face flushed out of anticipation of his latest steam room experience! Our man Sage is a complex fellow he is like a method actor, an arse licker would be a better way of putting it for he is able to shape shift and be just the man he needs to be in any given situation! A social cameleon and climber, gregarious, cordial, in a word, a cunt!

He doesn’t know what he thinks, if he is with a Jewish chap it’s all “Oh isn’t Jackie Mason a great comic!” and on the other hand if he’s with a Muslim it’s all “Malcolm X this and Malcolm X that!” And while he is having his arse scrapped all he goes on about is Galatasaray football club, unaware as is the norm with Sage that Eralkan supports Fenerbahce F.C…. So even “the Scraper” thinks Sage is an buffoon..

Open the sewage pipe ladies and gentleman I think I’m going to vomit !

Constantly and continuously Sage amazes me, his total lack of self awareness makes him the antithesis of a man like Freud, he waddles around the studio in his hot pants like it was summer time in Honolulu, he minces around the coffee shops and pubs of Islington like he was Lord Cloudesley himself and I for one am done trying to show him the way, my way and the error of his ! I don’t mean to pick on Macorkadale, well actually that’s a bare faced lie… I love it, is has become my passion, my raison d’etre for getting out of bed in the morning!

In fact dare I admit, I need Sage other wise I think I may well hang myself. He has given me purpose a reason for even bothering to wake up… he amuses me so with his little ways and his silly opinions! I suppose what I have stumbled on is a somewhat backhanded compliment of the man Sage Macorkadale …

The fucker is alright….

So yes at the end of it all, when all is said and done, Sage is OK and maybe I do care, just a little bit , but don’t tell him that it would ruin everything !

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