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About Martin

Fuckin’ mental, though—some places got mirrors! Watchin’ yourself get saucy? Grim as a war flick—“Look at me, I’m the king!”—nah, just a sweaty punter. Still, it’s a laugh, innit? Beats choppin’ onions or screamin’ at twats in me kitchen. Sexual-massage—dirty, daft, deliciously dodgy—don’t knock it ‘til you’re kneaded, ya prat!

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We indulged in a 60 minute deep tissue massage in the hotel spa and we would both honestly say it's one of the best we've ever had anywhere in the world!! They.

So, I’m sittin’ there, trying to chill, when I hear this loud music. Turns out, there’s a festival on the other side of the park. I’m like, “Great, just what I need.” But curiosity got the best of me. I wander over, and it’s a whole vibe! Food stalls, people dancing, and this band playing some sick tunes. I’m feelin’ it!