Home
You may have noticed I have been away. Having had recent holiday disasters with professional footballers that left me fannyless, I decided to play it safe and travel to Spain with my sister and her two kids as her husband couldn't make it as he pimps hookers in Fulwood.
We went on something called an "all inclusive" holiday which sounded very much like a chav holiday. But I had promised my sister so I went anyway.
I arrived at Manchester and was informed by my sister we were travelling with someone called Jet2.com - what the fuck!? I've only ever travelled with British Airways or Virgin and didn't realise there were other airlines. But I played along.
I was surprised to be asked to check in and mingle with the common folk in the cheap seats but I put it down to an error on my sister's part and didn't want to cause a fuss. I kept my bags close to me.
When it was time to board I headed straight for the front and business class only to be told by a stewardess that Jet2.com didn't have a business class and seats were allocated on a first come, first served basis. I laughed in her face but she was serious! She looked at my ticket and informed my I was in row 22 near the back of the plane.
I found my seat and was dismayed to find I was next to a fat bastard in a Liverpool top. As I've said many times before on here, fat bastards should have to buy two tickets as 30% of him was in my seat the entire journey. I hadn't been that close to a common person since I broke out of Penwortham Girls School to snog David Halsall behind Kwik Save nearly 20 years ago. I told the fat twat he needed a shower and a fatal accident, but he ignored me to concentrate on reading The Sun.
Amazingly, and you might not believe me, but this plane had no TVs, no game station, no airline radio station and no complimentary champagne. It was like I was back in 1979! And when I pressed the buzzer above my head to summon the stewardess to ask for a Dirty Martini she actually told me off for taking the piss! What the fuck was that all about? I knew from that moment this holiday was going to be a fucking disaster.
Anyway, after a horrendous two and a half hour journey of screaming brats, drunken fat bastards, and common women with fake tans discussing the menopause we finally arrived at San Javier Airport. After waiting forever we finally got our bags, I was convinced some tosser was going to try and steal my Prada suitcases but clearly they were too pissed to see straight.
We then had to sit on a bus (a fooking bus!!) for an hour waiting for some stupid twat who couldn't find the bus 10 yards from the airport exit. When he got on I called him a fucking knob and made fun of his small cock. I think he started to cry at some point.
So after what seemed like a 24 hour journey since leaving Whittam Towers we finally arrived at the hotel in Los Alcázares. I was expecting the Ritz, but got Ritz biscuits. But I just wanted to get to my room and wash the smell of common off me, so I wasn't even bothered when there was no bellboy to carry my luggage. And by now I wasn't surprised when my room turned out to be styled on the Beirut room Terry Waite spent several years as a hostage, I just wanted a shower and room service.
Had the longest and hottest shower of my life and could feel the common fat bastard smell falling off me. Rang down for room service only to be greeted by howls of laughter. Spanish wankers.
It was then time for dinner, at last something to look forward to. As we walked into the "dining room" I thought I'd taken a wrong turn and ended up at the local zoo. The room was full of fat bastards swarming round tables shovelling as much food onto their plates as they could fit. Mainly chips, burgers and lard. And there were some especially large fat bastards queuing at the beer pumps, they'd pull a pint and then walk to the back of the queue and sup their pint quickly so it was empty by the time they got to the front again. English fat wankers.
I simply don't fit in around these type of knobheads. Where is the class? Where is the salad? Where is the dignity? They should all be sent to bloody Dignitas and do us a favour. Twats!
I refused to spend another night in that hellhole and moved my sister and her kids to a villa on the outskirts of town where we saw a beautiful town with friendly locals, and avoided the fucking Brits.
Why the fuck would anyone go all inclusive to be treated like a fucking tramp? It's no wonder half the population is obese. No one seems to give a shite about the local scenery and history - they go for the "eat all you want" shitfest. The English are fucking twats.
Freedman out!
We went on something called an "all inclusive" holiday which sounded very much like a chav holiday. But I had promised my sister so I went anyway.
I arrived at Manchester and was informed by my sister we were travelling with someone called Jet2.com - what the fuck!? I've only ever travelled with British Airways or Virgin and didn't realise there were other airlines. But I played along.
I was surprised to be asked to check in and mingle with the common folk in the cheap seats but I put it down to an error on my sister's part and didn't want to cause a fuss. I kept my bags close to me.
When it was time to board I headed straight for the front and business class only to be told by a stewardess that Jet2.com didn't have a business class and seats were allocated on a first come, first served basis. I laughed in her face but she was serious! She looked at my ticket and informed my I was in row 22 near the back of the plane.
I found my seat and was dismayed to find I was next to a fat bastard in a Liverpool top. As I've said many times before on here, fat bastards should have to buy two tickets as 30% of him was in my seat the entire journey. I hadn't been that close to a common person since I broke out of Penwortham Girls School to snog David Halsall behind Kwik Save nearly 20 years ago. I told the fat twat he needed a shower and a fatal accident, but he ignored me to concentrate on reading The Sun.
Amazingly, and you might not believe me, but this plane had no TVs, no game station, no airline radio station and no complimentary champagne. It was like I was back in 1979! And when I pressed the buzzer above my head to summon the stewardess to ask for a Dirty Martini she actually told me off for taking the piss! What the fuck was that all about? I knew from that moment this holiday was going to be a fucking disaster.
Anyway, after a horrendous two and a half hour journey of screaming brats, drunken fat bastards, and common women with fake tans discussing the menopause we finally arrived at San Javier Airport. After waiting forever we finally got our bags, I was convinced some tosser was going to try and steal my Prada suitcases but clearly they were too pissed to see straight.
We then had to sit on a bus (a fooking bus!!) for an hour waiting for some stupid twat who couldn't find the bus 10 yards from the airport exit. When he got on I called him a fucking knob and made fun of his small cock. I think he started to cry at some point.
So after what seemed like a 24 hour journey since leaving Whittam Towers we finally arrived at the hotel in Los Alcázares. I was expecting the Ritz, but got Ritz biscuits. But I just wanted to get to my room and wash the smell of common off me, so I wasn't even bothered when there was no bellboy to carry my luggage. And by now I wasn't surprised when my room turned out to be styled on the Beirut room Terry Waite spent several years as a hostage, I just wanted a shower and room service.
Had the longest and hottest shower of my life and could feel the common fat bastard smell falling off me. Rang down for room service only to be greeted by howls of laughter. Spanish wankers.
It was then time for dinner, at last something to look forward to. As we walked into the "dining room" I thought I'd taken a wrong turn and ended up at the local zoo. The room was full of fat bastards swarming round tables shovelling as much food onto their plates as they could fit. Mainly chips, burgers and lard. And there were some especially large fat bastards queuing at the beer pumps, they'd pull a pint and then walk to the back of the queue and sup their pint quickly so it was empty by the time they got to the front again. English fat wankers.
I simply don't fit in around these type of knobheads. Where is the class? Where is the salad? Where is the dignity? They should all be sent to bloody Dignitas and do us a favour. Twats!
I refused to spend another night in that hellhole and moved my sister and her kids to a villa on the outskirts of town where we saw a beautiful town with friendly locals, and avoided the fucking Brits.
Why the fuck would anyone go all inclusive to be treated like a fucking tramp? It's no wonder half the population is obese. No one seems to give a shite about the local scenery and history - they go for the "eat all you want" shitfest. The English are fucking twats.
Freedman out!
)