Tuesday 29 January 2013

Tools in Dubai and I don't mean hardware!

Why does Dubai attract so many tools? Or why do some nice, friendly blokes morph into tools when moving to Dubai, a bit like butterflies turning into caterpillars? I've ranted enough about the Expat Wimmin, now it's time for a rant about the driving force behind them, the Expat Blokes.

Firstly, let me introduce you to the single expat man. Usually an Emirates pilot or 'something in construction', these exhibit their toolness by hitting on Filipina waitresses and using chat up lines banned in the UK like 'do you come here often'. They also target pissed-up blonde estate agents from the Antipodes and former Ryanair stewardesses from the Eastern Bloc. Eager to show off his new found Dubai wealth, he will go on and on and on about his favourite subjects- Barasti, work and himself of course. For those reading who don't know Dubai, Barasti is a cunty beach bar kind of thing which plays contrived techno beats and is populated by people who wouldn't even set foot in a Wetherspoons back home, never mind a nightclub. They dance in a style reminiscent of dads at a wedding bopping to Hi Ho Silver Lining. For some reason, they think clubbing at Barasti will make them a celebrity as a few shite DJs have been there and some of the local rags take pics of clubbers. I like to call the patrons of this crappy place 'Barastards'.
What do these expat studs wear? Their plumage is usually those awful espadrilles they call Toms which look like something from Shoe Express circa 1993, a T-shirt from some shop which sounds like a foreign name for Air Mail and either skinny jeans that indecently show the bollockular region or some 3/4 trousers. Hot.

The not so single expat man will either be a selfless, kind soul who is into family life and has genuinely come to Dubai to better his family's life, or a fat, arrogant Fanny Rat with an equally annoying wife- the textbook Expat Woman. Let's discuss the latter as it's more fun. He will also be an EmiRATs pilot or more recently, a SlyDubai one, or maybe 'something in banking'. He will flash his HSBC Premier card like some sort of access all fanny areas pass, even if it is just to buy a few tins of baked beans and a Peperami from Spinneys. When he is chatting up single stewardesses and other bored Expat Wimmin, he will flirt with the ugly ones all the more and win them over with some politically incorrect, possibly racist jokes about other nationalities in Dubai. Despite coming off as modern to strangers, he is in fact of a 1950s mentality and describes his wife as 'her indoors', treating her like some sort of baby making machine. On his day off, he will frequent somewhere called Hotel Moscow, his dumb wife believing it is a cultural exhibit on Communism when in reality, it's a whorehouse.

So ladies, take your pick! Which British Expat man are you gonna pull?

The UAE- Cabin crew and PILF heaven and hell

Hi passengers! My next few posts are going to be taken from a blog I done whilst living in Dubai many moons ago. The UAE features quite heavily in crewlife due to it offering more opportunities than back home on the job front. It can be a great stepping stone for a pilot career and a new way of life for hosties too. However, it does have a dark side, the fake glamorous lifestyle causing people not only to live beyond their means, but develop a bitchy, arrogant streak. Here's a quick rundown of the airlines of the area:

Emirates- the main one. The one everyone's heard of. They swan around Dubai as if they own the place. Increasing number of Filipinas in the airline, after the pilots' bulging pay packets.

FlyDubai- the Easyjet of the UAE. British staff from crap airlines like Excel with a polyester uniform to match, plus lots of Indians. Flies to exotic destinations like Turkmenistan and Bangladesh.

Etihad- Abu Dhabi's airline, the UAE flag carrier. Crew are classier than Emirates and better behaved. Large amount of Northerners work here plus a few Eastern Europeans with a past history of Ryanair.

Air Arabia- The Jet2 of the region. Cabin crew from war torn countries. PILFs swarthy and hot.

Private companies- Amsterdam in the sky if you get my drift.

Sunday 20 January 2013

Amsterdamaged

When someone mentions Amsterdam to you, what do you think? Tulip bulbs, the Dutch masters, peaceful bike rides down by the canal? Thought not, you filthy filthy individuals. My goodness, if I mentioned Anne Frank to you lot, you'd think it was rhyming slang for male masturbation! Today, I'm going to educate you about people who fly to Amsterdam.

The Amsterdam flight differs depending on where you're flying to and what day of the week. Weekdays are the quietest time, especially early morning. Businessmen are the most common species seen, plus the odd school party going to visit Anne Frank's house. Nothing to report. A nice, civilised uneventful flight. However, evenings and weekends are manic.

Amsterdam is a diverse city full of dykes and bikes. A cultural melting pot of working girls from the Ukraine and 'grafters' from Liverpool, Amsterdam has something for everyone. Let me introduce you to the passengers on my plane.

The shifty solo traveller- British, travelling alone, looking awkward, mid 20s, dressed in chav leisurewear, this person is probably a dealer or a smuggler. He or she will use a fear of flying the 25 minute flight as a cover up for their real fear- getting a cavity search from a large-handed Dutchman on arrival!

The Businessman- I have spoken at length about Mr Businessman. A reasonable looking man in his 40s, he will always make an impulse duty free perfume purchase on the inbound flight. I mean proper perfume, none of this J-Lo and Kylie shite. He's doing a bad job of covering his guilt, you see. Us hosties can smell his fingers. He has been enjoying the sights of Amsterdam with his cock out. In the words of Amy Winehouse, he had no time for regrets, kept his dick wet. The only tulips from Amsterdam he has seen is 'two lips' of a cheap brass in a window clamped round his manhood. Cunt.

The brass- Yes, our airlines transport working girls too. Scary to think that some of the budgets thrive on people trafficking! Some hoes are independent women though, think Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Mostly Eastern European, they often fly in their work gear, thigh high boots and those crappy denim skirts that were popular in 2001. Sometimes they're old, their Botoxed faces and obscene boob jobs reminiscent of one of those souvenir aprons from Benidorm contradicting their turkey necks. Brasses often spend a lot of money on duty free make up and that perfume that most people wouldn't wear as it 'smells like a tart's handbag'.

The pimp- Wherever there are pros and dealers, pimps aren't too far behind. Leather jackets, nasty gold jewellery and hair gel, pimps are often well behaved passengers as they don't want to draw too much attention to themselves. In fact, they only identify themselves as pimps when they make their sneaky business-related phone call before take off!