Why I hate Pam Ann

On my training course for the airline, we were treated to a viewing of a comedienne I had never previously heard of. Her name was Pam Ann and her whole repertoire was a skit on the airline industry. If you've never had an aviation background, the jokes will just go over your head but if you have had an aviation career or are a passenger that is a frequent flyer, you will get the jokes. However, I found the jokes deeply unfunny. She seems to rely on crude humour, outdated stereotypes and blatantly insults people and their jobs to get a cheap laugh. Now, I am no prude. I am an avid reader of Viz magazine, I am politically incorrect and I also have been known to slag off various jobs in aviation, labelling their staff 'jobsworths'. I would never personally attack a company, publish a photo of an innocent girl doing her 9 to 5 or make racist remarks about a particular German flag carrier. What is Pam Ann's problem? She strikes me as a lady with a chip on her shoulder. Did she get turned down by flight deck? Was she bitter about the younger, thinner, prettier girls at her airline? Did she cling to gay men for approval, just as she does now? She reminds me a bit of some of the mature ladies I worked with (mature in age, I mean, not in attitude.) They were of that 'do as I say, not as I do' bitchy jobsworth attitude and would deliberately pick on new, pretty recruits and treat them like the Pulp Fiction gimp, while cosying up to the gay guys, fake laughing at their jokes. 'Oh butt plugs hee hee oh yeah I know what they are'. The same ladies only befriended the gay guys as they had tried too hard and failed with the pilots, the gays being her ally.

What I don't understand about this so-called funnywoman is the fact that she will call the likes of Easyjet and Ryanair common, then criticise BA and Lufthansa for being arrogant. What does this woman want? The cheap jokes about comparing Lufthansa to a crude,dated WW2 stereotype of Germans and laughing at the Oriental hostesses' mannerisms is borderline racist. Any other comedian would be pulled over hot coals for these wisecracks. Virgin cabin crew aren't safe either, making out they are prostitutes in the air. Branson, why aren't you suing this woman? Pam Ann can come across as misogynistic- if a woman tries hard with her appearance, she is a slut (e.g. the Virgin crew giving passengers blow jobs in her sketch), if she is demure yet plain, she looks like a horse (BA sketch), if she has a regional accent, she is a chav (Easyjet) or, if she is 'normal' and getting on with things, she is 'fugly' and 'boring' ( comments on a photo of BMI regional cabin crew she posted on her Facebook page). Which brings me onto my next rant. She (or her team) post photos on Facebook taken on the sly of cabin crew on various planes. She proceeds to slag off their appearance, inviting readers to comment too. How would you feel if you were those girls, having your pic posted on Facebook without your knowledge, random strangers calling you fat and scruffy? While I do joke about airlines letting their standards slip and employing fat chavs, I would never upset someone by posting their pic in full uniform and criticising them! That oversteps the mark. They are someone's daughter, after all.

So, Pam Ann, after making a career of bitching and thinking how fabulous you are, take a long hard look at yourself. When we saw your sweartastic video on training, we all thought you were a man in drag. If you were truly a comedian, you would be able to crack jokes without expletives and without belittling anyone else.

Shit Happens...Literally

Let me tell you a little story involving infidelity and sins of the flesh. This story may be an urban myth at The Airline, but it could also be true, judging by some of the characters who work there. Be warned, if you have a nervous disposition, please stop reading!

The flight started off smoothly, but turbulence would affect this crew once at their destination, Madrid, where it would reach an almighty, unforgettable climax. First Officer Dutchman (who will remain nameless, the only thing I shall reveal is his nationality) was in the mood for pushing the boundaries and partying like a rockstar. As a Dutchman, he had a reputation to live up to- for some reason, everyone thinks Holland is full of kinky pervs into cock n ball torture, threesomes with sheep and watersports, but this Dutchman was rather conservative. He got up for work and went home to his pretty wife. However, his mind was like the top shelf in Ann Summers. There were so many things he wanted to try, his life was passing him by. He decided tonight would be the night he would take the plunge into the unknown world of buggery.
Gay Steward was very excited boarding the plane at Gatwick. He had packed some Rush and all his favourite appliances he could sneak past customs- buttplugs, ball gags and a Triga movie on his phone. He was hoping to get laid in Madrid- Spaniards are well fit. He always fantasised about being taken roughly by flight deck, but all pilots are straight, right?
During the flight, chemistry built up between the two, which continued into the night in Spain, culminating in a room party, just the two of them. The plucky steward decided to take the plunge- into the Dutchman's willing bottom. The two guys had a night of pure pleasure and indulgence, but all good things come to an end.
The next day on the flight deck, our experimental first officer was doing his pre-flight checks when he got the familiar rumbling in his tum after morning coffee. He needed the toilet quickly, he had a turtle's head badly. However, last night's shenangigans came back to haunt him. After all that unfamiliar sphincter action, he lost control, followed through and had a prolapse IN THE FLIGHT DECK!!!!!!!!

Unfortunately, both co-pilot and steward are unavailable to comment. If you are reading this and think it could be you, please contact me for an interview!

Cougar alert- but she was no MILF!

What are your first thoughts when you see a couple with a huge age-gap? Disgust? Admiration? Indifference? We are bombarded with images of super studs like Hugh Hefner and Peter Stringfellow with their much younger babes, but when we look into it, the attraction is obviously his money and her looks. But have you ever seen a couple where you can't pinpoint why they are together? This case study explores an age-gap relationship with a difference as it involves a cougar in her 50s and a geeky looking PILF in his late 20s. This odd couple found love in the flight deck (where else?)thanks to a mutual interest of ...erm...hang on...err...working together? I don't honestly know!

The pilot in question would go into the category of Shy Virgin, but the problem was, he was married and had a son. His wife was pretty and nobody understood why he was cheating on her with this crone. The cabin crew member in question was a rather intelligent lady and had had a good job in her previous life, from which she had been made redundant. It was like she was doing this cabin crew job just to get laid! She didn't look like a cougar either. Quite plain, looked her age and tried too hard to fit in with the young'uns, this character was becoming a common feature of cabins since some airlines got in trouble for not employing the older generation. The equal opportunities quota, some would say. Sometimes, a bit of jealousy would creep in when working with the younger girls, but other times, she would suck up to girls dating PILFs as this was her gateway to getting laid.

The torrid affair continued..and continued. She was often quoted as saying "His wife doesn't understand him"- my goodness woman, you are truly thick as pigshit! "He is only with her as they have a son, they have separate beds when he goes to the family home" - yeah and the moon is made of cheese. He even changed airlines to one closer to his wife's hometown, yet the sordid bumping of uglies continued, on the plane and in the car, they were like a pair of alley cats. Eventually, I managed to put two and two together as to what he saw in her. He had obviously heard cautionary tales of babytrapping, so he decided to go for a lady who had gone through the menopause, as there'd be no chance she'd get preggers! But this has-been hostie still yearned for the love of a pilot and as we speak now, she is pushing her cart in the sky thinking 'drinks, snacks or a shag' with one beady eye firmly on the cockpit.

Pilots beware- she ain't nothing but a GOLD DIGGER!

Men get such a bad press for being users and players, but guess what, some women are just as bad. I hate seeing people being blatantly used, especially when it's for financial gain. So gentlemen, let me just give you a friendly warning of some wolves in sheep's clothing who have infiltrated the airline industry! Some of these gals have stacked shelves and robbed from the pound shop in a previous life, yet have tried to transform themselves to try and bag a PILF. I'm a fabulous judge of character though, and can see through a seemingly innocent disguise. Read my first case study and whatever you do, don't tell any trolly dollies your mother's maiden name and your PIN number!!!!

Case study 1- Fat Arse babytraps Desperate and Dateless

We always work with someone who irritates us, and Fat Arse was no exception. However, some people may have ugly personalities and a fit body, while some have a hideous face but a generous nature. Fat Arse had no redeeming features whatsoever. She was what Paris Hilton would call a Hungry Tiger; in other words a leech, a gold-digger. When I first met Fat Arse, I was taken in by her seemingly friendly personality and felt quite sorry for her. She battled with her weight, her 'tache and was the wrong side of thirty yet had nothing to show for it. While we chatted, the discussion turned swiftly to flight deck and who was single. Whoa there! I now had her sussed. She didn't strike me as a floozie at first due to absence of style and cleavage, she looked more the type to bake cakes for the pilots, not shag their brains out, but that's a wolf in sheep's clothing for you. Once she had some targets in sight, she began to gradually change. Her regional accent was replaced by an affected posh voice, her council estate roots were glossed over, the fact that she left school with no qualifications and was thick as pigshit was never mentioned again. The weight fell off, her moustache waxed, hair dyed, but she still looked like Olive from On the Buses. A lot of people saw through her deception and her desperate vibes as she threw herself at various pilots, none of which would be considered a PILF. She even lapsed one night and screwed cabin crew, a particularly ugly specimen at that, a straight Overcompensator. Fat Arse's biological clock was ticking and the pounds were piling on again, fast action was needed...
As a stroke of luck would have it, an influx of fresh meat arrived at The Airline, potential suitors to impregnate Fat Arse, marry her and clear her of her credit card debt. It was still a minefield though, one even stood her up! However, their eyes met across a crowded baggage carousel. A new arrival who fit into the Desperate and Dateless category was like a lamb to the slaughter. The only time this guy had ever been kissed before was at a Pull a Pig contest at Chicago's bar. They fell in love, him relieved to finally get chatted up, her relieved that her debts would finally be paid and she had a cash machine for life. Now, the poor fool has been babytrapped and unlikely to leave the evil clutches of Fat Arse.

Gentlemen, let this be a cautionary tale. If you too are desperate and dateless, don't let people know this, especially not ruthless hosties who see you as a walking cash machine.

The different breeds of PILF

(pic from www.monarch.co.uk, I do not know these people, but I'll leave it up to you to decide on PILF category!)


Like the cabin crew, pilots come in different breeds too, and like an all you can eat buffet, there is something here to please everyone but don't be greedy and have 'em all!!!

THE SHY VIRGIN
Otherwise known as the cadets. These young scamps are straight out of flight school, usually early 20s and never mind earning their pilot stripes, these guys need to earn their stripes in 'experience with women'! Some of these are even virgins just waiting to be corrupted after years with their heads in their books. I guess there are some things they don't teach you at flight school.... They are usually easy prey for the old cougar cabin crew, who just bin them off after a 'Mrs Robinson' night of passion in a fleapit Travelodge. Traits of the Shy Virgin include a uniform too big for them, bright red cheeks (no, not the arse! That is after the Cougar has her way!) and the tendency to spill coffee all over the centre console, thus grounding the plane.

THE ARROGANT EURO-STUD
Back in the early Noughties, British airlines had a flood of immigration from mainland Europe. UK airlines were recruiting like wildfire, while a few Euro airlines had gone bust. UK was short of skilled pilots, so needless to say this pool of talent (in more ways than one!) ended up flying for UK airlines. The girls and gays loved this Eurovision Snog Contest and earned their stripes 'flying' these continental studs. Whether it was Dutch delights, Swedish sausage or a French fancy, hosties were sure to find a foreign PILF to float their boat. Tall, blond and with a certain charm, these men could charm the panties off the cabin crew- sometimes during the flight! Eurostud is fit and he knows it, but back home in Holland/ France/ Scandinavia, he is Mr Average, so uses his time in England to be a fanny rat. However, go on Eurostud's Facebook page and discover a wealth of family portraits, yes, he usually has a wife and family! Even more worrying is that once Eurostud is out of his stripes, he usually sports a manbag and in hotter climes, budgie smugglers!

GENTLEMAN OF THE SKIES
The classic aviator. 50s, a silver fox, years of flying experience and usually called Nigel, this is a proper old-school PILF. A classy gentleman who provides stimulating conversation and is the thinking woman's eye candy, the Gentleman is wise to the crafty gameplaying of flight deck floozies. This PILF is a keeper!

THE FANNY RAT
(American friends, Fanny isn't an ass in England!)
The Fanny Rat is your dirty player and uses his status to get pussy, to put it bluntly. Fanny Rats are like your average rodent- a bit mousy, sometimes deceptively ugly and out of uniform, you probably would scream if it approached you. Fanny Rat plays up his mediocre looks by using them as a tool for women to feel sorry for him, a bit like some men pretending they are gay to get women to turn them. He might complain about his moobs and portly belly, a cue for desperate hosties to say 'Oh darling, I like you just the way you are'.On nightstops, he might even wheel out the old chestnut like 'my wife doesn't understand me', 'I've been impotent since my missus left' and other greatest hits of philanderers. Call in Rentokil for this stinking rodent!!!

DESPERATE AND DATELESS
A pilot should be beating off ladies with a shitty stick, right? Not this poor chappy. This PILF can't actually attract any ladies! Like a scruffy pigeon puffing its throat regions up to get a mate, this sorry specimen goes on about his car or his new gadgets in a desperate attempt to pull. Usually late 40s, poor dress sense and lives in the type of house which probably has a million quid stuffed in the mattress yet needs decorating, he has missed the boat of hot babes and this could be down to two things. Either he was more interested in plane bodies than ladies' bodies, or he was a Fanny Rat in his younger day and word has got around that he is a jerk-off. However, this poor dude is often the victim of vicious flight deck floozies who often resemble Shrek, which brings me on to my next blog post!

So girls, that's your first lesson on PILFs!

Those magnificent men in their flying machines, or PILFs!

Who doesn't like a man or woman in uniform? Whether it's fit firemen or naughty nurses, most people I know have a favourite uniform. I have to confess, firemen don't do anything for me, I'm into dashing airline pilots.

When I joined The Airline, people used to say to me 'ooh, think of all the hunky pilots!'. Back then, I wasn't interested, I was more interested in looking at the passengers in our Mediterranean destinations, namely Greek Gods and Italian stallions. However, that all changed one day when some dirty bitch of a sky mattress was talking about her latest conquest, Captain Nigel. "His uniform was on my bedsit floor" she breathed. "It felt so hot yet so naughty. Then the next morning, I saw him putting on his stripes..." I was nearly sick, especially thinking about this overweight woman in the bedroom entwined in a hunky airman, but it got me thinking. I am working with men that some women have fantasies about! So, in the great tradition of the MILF, let me present to you- the PILF!

The PILF, like the cabin crew, comes in many different ways (no pun intended, you dirty people!) and has lots of different guises. Some have only faces that a mother could love, so he has to really earn his PILF stripes by having the obligatory Lovely Personality. Some are cheating little Fanny Rats but girls and gays still fall for their charms, the same way starlets throw themselves at womanising Hollywood stars "I can change him!". "His wife doesn't understand him" etc etc. Some are Mr Average and are seen as a conquest for the most brazen of Flight Deck Floozies to pull! Which brings me on to a funny story. There was a first officer at The Airline who looked like Tony Blair, and one girl spread a rumour around about him that he was still a virgin. He let slip one day that he fancied my friend, so I arranged a date for the two of them, much to the ridicule of my friend. She was worried she would be bored on the date, or even worse, have to pop his cherry! So she went on the date.

The date got off to a chatty start, but after a while, she got a bit bored. He was rabbiting on about classical music, and not Russell Watson and Andrea Bocelli, but Beethoven of all people! She thought he was talking about a St Bernard dog! As the evening wore on, my friend was becoming increasingly bored and he even made her pay Dutch- the bill came to 5€ but her drink was 3€ and he made her pay the three piddly euros, didn't even let her off with 50 cents, how chivalrous! They moved on to the next bar, where she was getting desperate for conversation as it was all becoming rather stilted. She dashed to the toilet and texted her friends to rescue her, but told them not to mention they had planned to meet her.

Eventually, her friends came to rescue her, getting the conversation going and managing to keep Tony Blair occupied. Then, she spotted a real hunk across the bar. And he spotted her, too! What's a girl to do? Boring PILF with no conversation or a tall, dark and handsome stranger? So, her friends distracted big ears Blair while she disappeared and pulled the fit bloke! No more flight deck for her then!

Welcome to the Big Brother House!

Day 1 at the airline was nothing like I expected to be. With the amount of castoffs from society all to be living in a confined space for a month, I felt like I was on the set of my most hated TV show Big Brother. Loud mouth wannabes with the IQ of a courgette- my worst idea of company. However, I'm not a prejudiced kinda girl, so I decided to break the ice with them in the bar.

For the main part, my suspicions were true. A lot of them had left school with no qualifications (at which point I felt cheated as I had brought all my certificates to the interview and was asked to show them) and had had previous exciting careers as nightclub dancers, the pound shop and bargain booze. Classy! I took a dislike to some of the straight males right away, especially when one announced to the bar 'I'm here for the pussy!' in a Del Boy accent. The same gentleman proceeded to shout 'she'd get it' after various hostesses the duration of the course and ended up getting fired after his first flight, but that's another tale. 'I'm doing this job to marry a hunky pilot and never work again!' announced a rough Liverpudlian female. Could this night get any worse? Then, I saw light at the end of the tunnel. A group of immaculately turned out twentysomethings with airline ID were sitting in the corner, speaking Italian and Spanish, sipping their espressos. I joined them and thankfully they were also to be my colleagues. Why do the English always have to show themselves up? I don't mean to be a traitor to my country, but I am increasingly ashamed to be associated with these louts, which is why I chose to live abroad. There is more to life than booze, footy and TV, as these intelligent, beautiful Mediterranean cabin crew illustrated. We chatted and I mustered up the courage to speak Spanish with them, conveniently using this opportunity to bitch about our chavvy future colleagues. At this point, two were dancing on the bar, having a drinking contest. Let me tell you, if I were a passenger about to fly with The Airline, and I watched that drunken show, I would be cancelling my flight and taking nice coach holidays in future, not before snapping away with my camera phone and sending pics to the Sun though!

Long time no see!

Hello my fellow Mile High Clubbers- I bet you thought I'd forgotten about this wee blog! I've been extremely busy the last 6 months with other projects and enjoying my 'normal' job, but now the time has come to kickstart the blog again as I have remembered some hilarious tales from my flying days thanks to my friends on Facebook. Don't worry, names will be changed to protect the innocent- don't wanna make you guys (in)famous now do I?

Ok, now I've introduced you to the different breeds of cabin crew, let's start at the very beginning- training. It was the beginning of summer and was the complete opposite to what the glamorous life of a cabin crew is about. You see, it was in a nondescript town with a high crime rate in the South of England, famous for its ugly 60s architecture. It is then I realised that this job was not to be as glamorous as I was led to believe. The glory days of aviation had long gone, with budget airlines causing air travel to be like a glorified bus service. With the great unwashed (otherwise known as Benefit Scum) now being able to afford flights, and thinking it's their right, not a privilege to be able to fly, the target audience of the airlines consisted of stags, hens, roughnecks, immigrants, deportees- the lot. And with this new 'friendly face' of passenger, they had to downgrade the staff to go with it. This was evident when I turned up on my first day to train- these air hosts and hostesses looked as if they had been recruited on the Chatsworth Estate! Bleached extensions, size 18 arses shoved into pencil skirts bursting at the seams, an extensive vocabulary of 'c*nt' and 'tw*t' combined with an indepth knowledge of Jordan (the glamour model, not the country), a 22 year old with a 5 year old kid (you do the math!), I held on to my purse with great fear as I thought I was going to be mugged by these delinquents. I thought I'd arrived at the wrong place- where were the model like stewardesses and super groomed gay hunks? Had I arrived at some outreach programme for the local council estate? After enquiring at the hotel reception, I had indeed arrived at the cabin crew training course. I shivered with fear. Not only was I to spend 4 weeks training with these inbreds, I spied a notice on reception saying 'we rent rooms by the hour'. Delinquents and prostitutes- classy.
Somehow, I was scared I made the wrong decision and regretted not taking the bank job I was offered....