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Along the way we graffitied some cacti, procured some second hand pink girls flip flops for Jose from a bin and got our ankles attacked by something like a miniature Doberman. Photographer Chad came off the worst in the girly terror embarrassment stakes. His ankles were fine.
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Now we're cosy in our amazing villa preparing tapas for a spanish extravaganza evening and awaiting the arrival of our first model. With X Factor on the tv. When in Mallorca, er...do as the English do?
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