The World Needs A Stronger Blog...

In South Africa, they put quinine in Chikree and all the quinine tasted like tonic water. The heroin like aspirin and the arsenic like almonds but she, she tasted like a Mediterranean fig. Now the luggage is packed and we're hanging out with Mac MacLeod after a Scaggs show in Hertford. Waiting in the Alitalia V.I.P lounge where captain concierge is freaking out because the room smelled like burning motor oil. Turns out it was just the smell of Hank's black salve. Poor hank was nursing a bad boil in his armpit. So we finally board the plane headed for Belle-Île-en-Mer off the French coast. Jules Kirby's sitting in coach. We laughed. Jules is the champagne-swilling daughter of power lawyer Roger Kirby. And Roger is the boyfriend of Dominique Browning. The editor of House & Garden. But I'd hang with a good old fashioned Italian Scot over these hoity-toities any day. Just then Scaggs himself calls up Hank and says we forgot to pay the bill at the Mulberry and his manager is pissed and that we need to meet them in Quimperlé to straighten everything out.