Happy New Year my passengers currently suffering on a retrofitted 777 with no legroom and a big cheery wave to all those sitting in a £150 business class seat on a blacklisted airline! Today’s topic that we are going to mass debate (fnarrr) is are PILFs damaging their rep by making themselves Instafamous?
..... coming soon.....
Sunday, 7 January 2018
Friday, 1 September 2017
TV Review- Easyjet Inside The Cockpit
Good evening everyone, yes even you, the deportee sitting in the last row of economy! I have been convinced to come out of my self imposed retirement by all my die hard Flooz fans as they all want to know my view on that new Sleazyjet programme. Excuse the typos in advance, I'm composing this review on the toilet of a Flybe Dash 8.
Easyjet are getting a hard time by the press and public as usual along with 99.9% of other airlines in the world, usually because someone called Chantelle has lost her Tyler's Trunki, or Demi-Rose and Mason are going on a 'babymoon' whatever that means and are suing the airline for gastroenteritis as they sharted during their holiday. Chavs and their compo claims will never change.
So, when I saw Easyjet were making a new docusoap, I was praying for sonething similar to the previous one involving French blokes in shit clothes brawling with check in staff about missed connections or Scousers on a stag party dressed as Borat. Then I heard it was about Flight Deck and my excitement turned to another kind of excitement. I was hoping for PILFs, fit hot aviators of the sky. I prepared for this beanflicker of a series but alas, Id have been better watching Fake Taxi.
5 minutes into the show, it felt like I was watching an episode of the inbetweeners, I gleefully expected them to say Plane Wanker or Bumder. The pilots were all a bit on the young side for me, the training captain was a bit of a silver fox but still no eye candy. The whole show reeked of political correctness and positive gender discrimination. Since I started flying, the whole calibre of PILF seems to have gone from dashing airmen to a bunch of mockney wankers using Daddy's money to go to CTC who do the PA in the style of Parklife 'welcome on board flight 69 to Amsterdam gets intimidated by the pigeons, they love a bit of it Parklife!' or scruffy Northerners who use regional dialect and get words mixed up despite being native speakers of English. I flew with one Yorkshireman who said Australia is in the Anti Podes instead of the proper 'antipodees' pronunciation, and An-car-a in Turkey. The Polish cleaners at Gatwick should take over PA duties. We have a lot of female pilots making their way in the horny skies now too, but although I am for women in aviation, I don't believe that companies like EasyJet should turn down a man for a role in favour of a woman just so they look positively discriminatory. Equal rights mean equal chances at jobs-that is true gender equality, not these bollocks female pilot initiatives that Sleazyjet are going on about.
The programme did nothing to persuade me to book with Sleazyjet and when the so-called eye candy of the flight deck was going on about Tinder, I got excited and thought maybe Easyjet had dragged itself into the 21st century amd put wifi on the planes. No chance. Poor sod didn’t even have a layover to up his online dating game and from the image he portayed of himself would probably get cockblocked by a baggage handler should he go on the pull in the Northern Quarter. The cabin crew left a lot to be desired too, the senior looked about 12 (what’s the female equivalent of saying his balls haven’t dropped yet?) and bizarrely the juniors looked as if they still remember BOAC. After about 10 minutes, I got bored with this televisual plug for Sleazy and longed for the days of Celeb Air (shite airline related reality show with Lisa off Steps in) and the fake PILF episodes of Corrie from 1998.
To summarise:
1) low cost airlines’ PILFs have to pay to come to work. Fake Taxi would be a better career move.
2) TV no longer has decent docusoaps. We will never have a Jane McDonald or a Just Cook Will Ya chef again.
3) UK airlines no longer have quality PILFage. Emirates it is or maybe even IranAir.
Easyjet are getting a hard time by the press and public as usual along with 99.9% of other airlines in the world, usually because someone called Chantelle has lost her Tyler's Trunki, or Demi-Rose and Mason are going on a 'babymoon' whatever that means and are suing the airline for gastroenteritis as they sharted during their holiday. Chavs and their compo claims will never change.
So, when I saw Easyjet were making a new docusoap, I was praying for sonething similar to the previous one involving French blokes in shit clothes brawling with check in staff about missed connections or Scousers on a stag party dressed as Borat. Then I heard it was about Flight Deck and my excitement turned to another kind of excitement. I was hoping for PILFs, fit hot aviators of the sky. I prepared for this beanflicker of a series but alas, Id have been better watching Fake Taxi.
5 minutes into the show, it felt like I was watching an episode of the inbetweeners, I gleefully expected them to say Plane Wanker or Bumder. The pilots were all a bit on the young side for me, the training captain was a bit of a silver fox but still no eye candy. The whole show reeked of political correctness and positive gender discrimination. Since I started flying, the whole calibre of PILF seems to have gone from dashing airmen to a bunch of mockney wankers using Daddy's money to go to CTC who do the PA in the style of Parklife 'welcome on board flight 69 to Amsterdam gets intimidated by the pigeons, they love a bit of it Parklife!' or scruffy Northerners who use regional dialect and get words mixed up despite being native speakers of English. I flew with one Yorkshireman who said Australia is in the Anti Podes instead of the proper 'antipodees' pronunciation, and An-car-a in Turkey. The Polish cleaners at Gatwick should take over PA duties. We have a lot of female pilots making their way in the horny skies now too, but although I am for women in aviation, I don't believe that companies like EasyJet should turn down a man for a role in favour of a woman just so they look positively discriminatory. Equal rights mean equal chances at jobs-that is true gender equality, not these bollocks female pilot initiatives that Sleazyjet are going on about.
The programme did nothing to persuade me to book with Sleazyjet and when the so-called eye candy of the flight deck was going on about Tinder, I got excited and thought maybe Easyjet had dragged itself into the 21st century amd put wifi on the planes. No chance. Poor sod didn’t even have a layover to up his online dating game and from the image he portayed of himself would probably get cockblocked by a baggage handler should he go on the pull in the Northern Quarter. The cabin crew left a lot to be desired too, the senior looked about 12 (what’s the female equivalent of saying his balls haven’t dropped yet?) and bizarrely the juniors looked as if they still remember BOAC. After about 10 minutes, I got bored with this televisual plug for Sleazy and longed for the days of Celeb Air (shite airline related reality show with Lisa off Steps in) and the fake PILF episodes of Corrie from 1998.
To summarise:
1) low cost airlines’ PILFs have to pay to come to work. Fake Taxi would be a better career move.
2) TV no longer has decent docusoaps. We will never have a Jane McDonald or a Just Cook Will Ya chef again.
3) UK airlines no longer have quality PILFage. Emirates it is or maybe even IranAir.
Monday, 17 August 2015
TOWIE slapper embarrassed of MILE HIGH role!
Hi to my Croc wearing economy passengers and a big wave to all my business class pax wearing their onesies chilling on their flatbeds! Hope the summer's treating you well and you haven't all been brawling in Benidorm in a traditional British Pub, arguing for a free £5 roast dinner in an intellectual quiz about Corrie.
Back in 2003 or so (showing my age now aren't I) all hot hosties and PILFs used to tune in to a really badly acted TV show called Mile High. Full of in jokes about #crewlife and bad set design (I think the aircraft was an Airbus 737) the only people who watched it who didn't work in the airline were probably bachelors and teenage lads who were in a steady relationship with Madam Palm and her 5 daughters. It was full of busty babes, soap rejects, gay hunks and the odd silver fox PILF (the main PILF was even called Nigel!)
The main point of this blog is to point out that a member of crap TV show TOWIE, Lauren Pope was in this with her jugs out on a plane wing. Back in the day before the only way is implants, she was just a lowly tit model and Mile High was her biggest claim to fame. Now, she has gone all uppity and if anyone mentions it on her Instagram, she deletes their comment instantly and blocks the person (me included!) Even if people aren't trolling her but complimenting her on her norks, she goes into PMT mode on a blocking spree. But why is she so paranoid about it? Is it because she has her thruppenys out? Is it because in the show she claims they're natural? Is it because she wants people to think she was plucked from obscurity to be in TOWIE? Or is it because it may be proof she is lying about her age and is really pushing 40? Either way, she looked fit in Mile High and didn't have that sense of shit don't stink that she does now. Here's a YouTube vid for your perusal anyway! Enjoy.
Credit to www.scenebabe.com for the vid.
CLICK HERE
Back in 2003 or so (showing my age now aren't I) all hot hosties and PILFs used to tune in to a really badly acted TV show called Mile High. Full of in jokes about #crewlife and bad set design (I think the aircraft was an Airbus 737) the only people who watched it who didn't work in the airline were probably bachelors and teenage lads who were in a steady relationship with Madam Palm and her 5 daughters. It was full of busty babes, soap rejects, gay hunks and the odd silver fox PILF (the main PILF was even called Nigel!)
The main point of this blog is to point out that a member of crap TV show TOWIE, Lauren Pope was in this with her jugs out on a plane wing. Back in the day before the only way is implants, she was just a lowly tit model and Mile High was her biggest claim to fame. Now, she has gone all uppity and if anyone mentions it on her Instagram, she deletes their comment instantly and blocks the person (me included!) Even if people aren't trolling her but complimenting her on her norks, she goes into PMT mode on a blocking spree. But why is she so paranoid about it? Is it because she has her thruppenys out? Is it because in the show she claims they're natural? Is it because she wants people to think she was plucked from obscurity to be in TOWIE? Or is it because it may be proof she is lying about her age and is really pushing 40? Either way, she looked fit in Mile High and didn't have that sense of shit don't stink that she does now. Here's a YouTube vid for your perusal anyway! Enjoy.
Credit to www.scenebabe.com for the vid.
CLICK HERE
Friday, 10 April 2015
Reservations Agent Wankers
Buenos dias my dear readers! How is Summer treating you? Are you soaking up the local culture in Benidorm in Paddy O'Leary's Irish bar, eating the traditional cuisine of Yorkshire Pudding, partaking in a traditional Catalonian quiz night of Only Fools and Horses quotes? Thought so you bunch of chavs. Today's blog is a behind the scenes look at a select group of wankers on £15k a year (but they get 20% off on Upper Crust in Manchester Airport so they keep reminding us) . Ladies and gentlemen, meet the Reservations Call Centre Agents! You ever booked a ticket to Manchester and ended up in Manchester, New Hampshire, USA and wondered why you can't get Lancashire hot pot or spot a Corrie star? You ever wanted to fly to Dublin and spoke to soneone who didn't understand your accent and ended up with a pot luck trip to Durban or Dubai? These are the tosspots in question.
Before anyone gets offended by this post, this is a job I have done and actually quite enjoyed, and 99.9% of the people were nice too, in fact I'll go as far to say it's the most unpretentious, fun office I've ever worked in. It's outside the office where the wankerishness occurs though.
There are 2 areas for reservations agents to display tool traits in the manner of a peacock spreading its tail to pull a peahen. The first is on social networking sites (as per), the second is of course the airport.
Social network is the breeding ground of lunacy and tool behaviour. Whether it's some slag wanting to show off her Jeremy Kyle baby with the tagline 'feeling blessed' next to it or someone trying to earn sympathy likes like some slag saying her Jeremy Kyle baby's dad didn't get it a birthday card, Fakebook is one way of losing friends and influencing people to laugh at you. On Fakebook, they will act all mysterious about their role, leading people on to think they're a pilot for Ryanair or a trolley dolly for Emirates. Job title- 'works for an airline'. Status updates 'dead after working nights', 'flight delays don't you just hate them', 'woo discount at the airport #perksofthejob'. On Twatter they will hashtag #avgeek to try and get in with plane spotters. They will even have the audacity to set up a Pprune account, out of their depth amongst PILFs and blokes called Nigel. This mediocre job is their passport to a perceived glamorous life.
At the airport, the desperation really comes out. Like a scrawny blackbird fighting over chips with a pack of angry seagulls, the reservations agent wanker is really struggling. No longer hiding behind his computer but faced with being bottom of the list of the ID90 travel, even below the first officer's grandma, he/she is getting agitated, their power slipping. They wave their works ID in the face of everyone in the airport but they all know it's a blag airside pass and doesn't have the same magical qualities. When Mr Reservations gets denied boarding for his cheapo flight, he manages to find time in between ranting on Facebook to go to Costa Coffee and wave his ID at the surly Polish bird serving to get his 20p off his coffee.
To summarise:
1) Book flights online so you don't have to speak to these people
2) If you work in Costa, spit in their drinks
3) Even the baggage handlers have a more glam life
Before anyone gets offended by this post, this is a job I have done and actually quite enjoyed, and 99.9% of the people were nice too, in fact I'll go as far to say it's the most unpretentious, fun office I've ever worked in. It's outside the office where the wankerishness occurs though.
There are 2 areas for reservations agents to display tool traits in the manner of a peacock spreading its tail to pull a peahen. The first is on social networking sites (as per), the second is of course the airport.
Social network is the breeding ground of lunacy and tool behaviour. Whether it's some slag wanting to show off her Jeremy Kyle baby with the tagline 'feeling blessed' next to it or someone trying to earn sympathy likes like some slag saying her Jeremy Kyle baby's dad didn't get it a birthday card, Fakebook is one way of losing friends and influencing people to laugh at you. On Fakebook, they will act all mysterious about their role, leading people on to think they're a pilot for Ryanair or a trolley dolly for Emirates. Job title- 'works for an airline'. Status updates 'dead after working nights', 'flight delays don't you just hate them', 'woo discount at the airport #perksofthejob'. On Twatter they will hashtag #avgeek to try and get in with plane spotters. They will even have the audacity to set up a Pprune account, out of their depth amongst PILFs and blokes called Nigel. This mediocre job is their passport to a perceived glamorous life.
At the airport, the desperation really comes out. Like a scrawny blackbird fighting over chips with a pack of angry seagulls, the reservations agent wanker is really struggling. No longer hiding behind his computer but faced with being bottom of the list of the ID90 travel, even below the first officer's grandma, he/she is getting agitated, their power slipping. They wave their works ID in the face of everyone in the airport but they all know it's a blag airside pass and doesn't have the same magical qualities. When Mr Reservations gets denied boarding for his cheapo flight, he manages to find time in between ranting on Facebook to go to Costa Coffee and wave his ID at the surly Polish bird serving to get his 20p off his coffee.
To summarise:
1) Book flights online so you don't have to speak to these people
2) If you work in Costa, spit in their drinks
3) Even the baggage handlers have a more glam life
Monday, 23 March 2015
British Airways- what a DUMP your planes are
Long time no see passengers! Just when you thought it was safe to fly again without fear of being judged for your Primark hand luggage or the correct etiquette for sick at usage, I appear again like an ill timed turtle's head! I've lost interest in blogging so frequently lately but a shocking news item has made me pick up my iPad again and air my views.
This month has witnessed one of the biggest mysteries in the history of aviation and it happened in European airspace on a British registered aircraft. 2014's Malaysia incident has paled into insignificance and passengers are now on red alert, worried the same fate will befall them. It's rather unnerving when the flight deck inform you there's a suspect package on board, toxic fumes filling the cabin. It's also a right pain in the arse when your holiday gets delayed due to it, could this airline be any shittier or are they just spouting the usual crap as an excuse, you wonder. God knows what it says in the captain's log about this event.
However, you can't help but empathise with the poor bloke (or woman) who has made headline news because of this event and has decided to remain anonymous. This passenger has been both vilified and labelled a top lad by social media and international press but cannot bask in his or her fame due to an angry lynch mob of Dubai bound passengers turning up on his doorstep, not to mention the fact he could become a social outcast, tainted for life due to the fact that his shite wouldn't flush away properly. Some internet trolls are blaming a Tory MP for dropping his smelly kids off at the pool as he was the first to tweet about it, it could be true as the saying goes 'whoever smelt it dealt it'. Never has the world been kept in suspense this much since Stig blew his cover in Top Gear.
A big round of applause for the man whose bowels turned round an entire plane, the man who unwittingly gave the world of aviation a bit of light relief from terrorist threats, crashes and bomb scares. It's not often that a cancelled flight can make the world smile and become a trending topic on Twitter. Let's just hope BA compensate their pax and don't dismiss it as an Act of God.
This month has witnessed one of the biggest mysteries in the history of aviation and it happened in European airspace on a British registered aircraft. 2014's Malaysia incident has paled into insignificance and passengers are now on red alert, worried the same fate will befall them. It's rather unnerving when the flight deck inform you there's a suspect package on board, toxic fumes filling the cabin. It's also a right pain in the arse when your holiday gets delayed due to it, could this airline be any shittier or are they just spouting the usual crap as an excuse, you wonder. God knows what it says in the captain's log about this event.
However, you can't help but empathise with the poor bloke (or woman) who has made headline news because of this event and has decided to remain anonymous. This passenger has been both vilified and labelled a top lad by social media and international press but cannot bask in his or her fame due to an angry lynch mob of Dubai bound passengers turning up on his doorstep, not to mention the fact he could become a social outcast, tainted for life due to the fact that his shite wouldn't flush away properly. Some internet trolls are blaming a Tory MP for dropping his smelly kids off at the pool as he was the first to tweet about it, it could be true as the saying goes 'whoever smelt it dealt it'. Never has the world been kept in suspense this much since Stig blew his cover in Top Gear.
A big round of applause for the man whose bowels turned round an entire plane, the man who unwittingly gave the world of aviation a bit of light relief from terrorist threats, crashes and bomb scares. It's not often that a cancelled flight can make the world smile and become a trending topic on Twitter. Let's just hope BA compensate their pax and don't dismiss it as an Act of God.
Wednesday, 3 September 2014
Why are airport shops so shite?
A big ALRITE MATE you bunch of common, human cattle Ryanair cheapskates! How is the summer treating you? How many brats have you tried to kill for running over your feet with a Trunki? How many poncy students from down South have you tutted at in Upper Crust at the airport for holding up the queue asking for discount? Today's lecture is about airport shopping.
No matter what country you're in and whether you're travelling in First with Emirates or sitting on the shitter on Sleazyjet, we are all equals when it comes to the shite being flogged to us. You'd think the introduction of the Euro in 2002, the drop in costs of air travel and Tony Bliar giving the go ahead in 1997 to end intracontinental duty free would have put a stop to airport shopping. No, it just got out if control! Duty Free within Europe may have ended, but chavs started going to Shaaaarm and Orlandur , benefit claims and credit card limits increased and people basically became greedy gits. Take a look at any airport in the UK and even the world and the same shite is getting peddled. Let me start with one for you fat bastards.
Chocolate
Have you ever got to an airport or on board a plane and said to your mate 'Ey, do you know what I'm craving right now? A 500g bar of Toblerone!' Me neither. Why do airports feel the need to sell these bars that break your teeth, don't even taste nice unless you're Swiss (and that lot like shitting on each other and killing their grannies so I wouldn't trust their tastebuds), and why do you need half a kilo of the stuff? Most people think perfume, fags and ale when it comes to airports, not Toblerones.
Shortbread
Another one like the Toblerone, something that is in abundance on planes, airports and executive lounges. Why? Is the CEO of Walkers Shortbread shagging Willie Walsh or something? Nothing says First Class travel more than a glass of champagne, some foie gras and a packet of fucking shortbread with NOT FOR RESALE emblazoned on it. Why on earth would you come back from a week in Dubai and think 'oh Ill get me ma a tin of Scottish shortbread to remind her of my trip to Arabia.' Shortbread needs to be limited to the Christmas cupboard next to the eggnog that gets wheeled out when the relatives you dont like come round.
Swarovski
God I hate this kitsch, faux-classy jewellery. It looks the type of idiotic, childlike shite that a 60 year old from Bolton would buy his 18 year old mail order bride to give a pretend image of youth. Swarovski necklaces have a cheap looking leather chain on that is reminiscent of 1990s boyband jewellery and has a charm on like a cat's head or a bunch of grapes in Swarovski crystal. It screams 'my missus isnt worth diamonds but I cant be arsed standing in the queue for the lucky lucky man so Ill meet her halfway'. The Swarovski pen is sold on most aircraft too and is a popular gift for businessmen getting their other halves a guilt present after sticky fingers in Amsterdam. Crew get them for their not so loved ones too.
Suitcases
Why oh why would you buy a suitcase airside? Yes, Manchester airport, why do you continue to sell these in Terminal 1 when that space could be put to good use like installing a few extra bogs.
Radley bags
Girls, I love a nice handbag but one with a Scottie dog hanging off? I don't care if it's tax free, it looks like something a catwoman would carry. I bet you bring your own teabags on board too.
Posers' corner
That area in WH Smiths that have destination-based novels and is always full of Tarquins reading not buying. You know, those off to Thailand will stand there and read The Beach and those on a Greek island hop will feign interest in Captain Corelli's banjo string or whatever it was called. The Beindorm lot just read Take A Break. Nobody buys these books! That's why theyre all in the second hand shop next to the vuvuzelas and the Spanish dolls.
Airport Set
Cabin crew and child haters will know this one. The little 10 piece airport set you can buy on most airlines and duty free shops that has a noisy plane with flashing lights. The brats are usually in possession of a Trunkie too. The plane gets turned on, lights blazing for the first half of the flight and ends up tripping you up when you get up to go the bog. Also, the other bits of the airport set get neglected and you always end up crushing the air traffic controller under your foot which starts the brat off crying and its parents giving you evils. Why do they make this shite?
To summarise:
1.Toblerones taste vile
2. If you've got a Swarovski pen, your hubby has played away
3. Radley bags are as bad as Crocs
No matter what country you're in and whether you're travelling in First with Emirates or sitting on the shitter on Sleazyjet, we are all equals when it comes to the shite being flogged to us. You'd think the introduction of the Euro in 2002, the drop in costs of air travel and Tony Bliar giving the go ahead in 1997 to end intracontinental duty free would have put a stop to airport shopping. No, it just got out if control! Duty Free within Europe may have ended, but chavs started going to Shaaaarm and Orlandur , benefit claims and credit card limits increased and people basically became greedy gits. Take a look at any airport in the UK and even the world and the same shite is getting peddled. Let me start with one for you fat bastards.
Chocolate
Have you ever got to an airport or on board a plane and said to your mate 'Ey, do you know what I'm craving right now? A 500g bar of Toblerone!' Me neither. Why do airports feel the need to sell these bars that break your teeth, don't even taste nice unless you're Swiss (and that lot like shitting on each other and killing their grannies so I wouldn't trust their tastebuds), and why do you need half a kilo of the stuff? Most people think perfume, fags and ale when it comes to airports, not Toblerones.
Shortbread
Another one like the Toblerone, something that is in abundance on planes, airports and executive lounges. Why? Is the CEO of Walkers Shortbread shagging Willie Walsh or something? Nothing says First Class travel more than a glass of champagne, some foie gras and a packet of fucking shortbread with NOT FOR RESALE emblazoned on it. Why on earth would you come back from a week in Dubai and think 'oh Ill get me ma a tin of Scottish shortbread to remind her of my trip to Arabia.' Shortbread needs to be limited to the Christmas cupboard next to the eggnog that gets wheeled out when the relatives you dont like come round.
Swarovski
God I hate this kitsch, faux-classy jewellery. It looks the type of idiotic, childlike shite that a 60 year old from Bolton would buy his 18 year old mail order bride to give a pretend image of youth. Swarovski necklaces have a cheap looking leather chain on that is reminiscent of 1990s boyband jewellery and has a charm on like a cat's head or a bunch of grapes in Swarovski crystal. It screams 'my missus isnt worth diamonds but I cant be arsed standing in the queue for the lucky lucky man so Ill meet her halfway'. The Swarovski pen is sold on most aircraft too and is a popular gift for businessmen getting their other halves a guilt present after sticky fingers in Amsterdam. Crew get them for their not so loved ones too.
Suitcases
Why oh why would you buy a suitcase airside? Yes, Manchester airport, why do you continue to sell these in Terminal 1 when that space could be put to good use like installing a few extra bogs.
Radley bags
Girls, I love a nice handbag but one with a Scottie dog hanging off? I don't care if it's tax free, it looks like something a catwoman would carry. I bet you bring your own teabags on board too.
Posers' corner
That area in WH Smiths that have destination-based novels and is always full of Tarquins reading not buying. You know, those off to Thailand will stand there and read The Beach and those on a Greek island hop will feign interest in Captain Corelli's banjo string or whatever it was called. The Beindorm lot just read Take A Break. Nobody buys these books! That's why theyre all in the second hand shop next to the vuvuzelas and the Spanish dolls.
Airport Set
Cabin crew and child haters will know this one. The little 10 piece airport set you can buy on most airlines and duty free shops that has a noisy plane with flashing lights. The brats are usually in possession of a Trunkie too. The plane gets turned on, lights blazing for the first half of the flight and ends up tripping you up when you get up to go the bog. Also, the other bits of the airport set get neglected and you always end up crushing the air traffic controller under your foot which starts the brat off crying and its parents giving you evils. Why do they make this shite?
To summarise:
1.Toblerones taste vile
2. If you've got a Swarovski pen, your hubby has played away
3. Radley bags are as bad as Crocs
Tuesday, 8 July 2014
Foreign Totty
Greetings you bunch of full cavity search loving masochists! Holiday season is upon us so let's discuss fit people from all round the globe. We have already discussed Amsterdam working girls and Turkish romeos getting romanced by HRT fuelled widows so let's see what other natural beauty the world has to offer. If you think I'll be discussing Niagara Falls and the Colossus of Rome, you obviously made a typo and should be on the Lonely Planet homepage instead. I'm talking the real natural beauties like sultry Latina babes with big arses, Italian stallions managing to pull off a Man Bag, dashing Arabs in full robe and swarthy English lads from Salford in trackies (err maybe not).
So let us begin with North America. Some of you girls get a right bean-on seeing Canadian Mounties, you sure wanna mount them but that's all I can say about Canada. The country bores me a bit, I was in Toronto the other year and no deposits were made in my female wankbank, I was still relying on a 2011 pic of the Dubai Aquarium to flick my bean over. No you sick bastards, I dont fancy sharks, it was a sneaky shot I took of a load of local men admiring the chameleon. So on to the good old US of A, a popular destination with our Chubby Chasers. Extension seatbelts in economy plus at the ready lads!
South America is a favourite with the gays. For some reason, ever since Ricky Martin came out, the floodgates have opened, poppers are getting popped and all the European twinks are heading over to re-enact the human centipede on the beaches of Brazil. The world cup is a perfect opportunity for my gay stewards to combine Latin passion with the grit of Triga Films (if you dont know what Triga is, get off this blog and read House Beautiful magazine instead).
Africa is a continent of heat, danger and variation, a bit like the menopausal, hormone fuelled women from Nottingham who go there in search of toyboys. Let us start with North Africa. Women of a certain vintage have a fond memory of films like Lawrence of Arabia and ever since their female icon Lady Di shagged Dildo Al Fayed on his yacht in 1997, theyve always wanted to score with an Arabian. Too fat, old and not blonde enough to cop off with one of the Gulf lot, they try and pull the bargain bucket reject ones in Morocco and Tunisia, a bit like Deirdre in Corrie. Those who like their men like their coffee, hot, strong and black tend to head further south like the Gambia for toyboy marriage. It is estimated that middle aged women marrying toyboys since the advent of budget airlines has caused an increase in Home Office and border control jobs by 200% .
Europe is the best place for talent spotting. Those kinky so and so's love Holland, Germany and Belgium to indulge in watersports. At my previous airline, my German air hosts loved nothing better than being trussed up in a makeshift dungeon in the basement of a block of flats in East Berlin and having root vegetables shoved up their arse. Even some of the flightdeck loved getting pissed on by some six foot Teutonic bird with no tits and hairy pits. The sooner we leave the EU the better I say. Let's get back to classic British pursuits like Dogging in time to the Benny Hill theme. Oh I forgot, I'm meant to be talking about fit countries. Germany-ugly. Eastern Europe- fit birds, blokes like bulldogs licking piss off a nettle. Central Europe- body of baywatch face of crimewatch. Southern Mediterranean- up North look like pasty Shetland ponies, down South fit Mateo off Benidorm and Shakira lookalikes. Holiday resorts- ugly inbreds from South Yorkshire and for this reason your airlines give you a free pair of Beer Goggles in addition to your luggage allowance.
Dubai- Russian whores, British Z- list fuckwits with fake boobs like Peter Andre, fit local lads with pure tents in their robes.
Thailand- no fit people but freaks of nature who can write Happy Birthday simply by using their sphincter muscles and an Argos biro.
So people, the world is your oyster! Columbus was so wrong when he said the world was round. It is in fact flat in parts like a German's ballbag and voluptuous in others like a Brazilian's arse.
To summarise:
1. Germans are dirty bastards
2. Lady Di is solely responsible for all the illegals doing bogus marriages
3. The recent world cup was merely a front to host a gay human centipede on the beaches of Brazil
So let us begin with North America. Some of you girls get a right bean-on seeing Canadian Mounties, you sure wanna mount them but that's all I can say about Canada. The country bores me a bit, I was in Toronto the other year and no deposits were made in my female wankbank, I was still relying on a 2011 pic of the Dubai Aquarium to flick my bean over. No you sick bastards, I dont fancy sharks, it was a sneaky shot I took of a load of local men admiring the chameleon. So on to the good old US of A, a popular destination with our Chubby Chasers. Extension seatbelts in economy plus at the ready lads!
South America is a favourite with the gays. For some reason, ever since Ricky Martin came out, the floodgates have opened, poppers are getting popped and all the European twinks are heading over to re-enact the human centipede on the beaches of Brazil. The world cup is a perfect opportunity for my gay stewards to combine Latin passion with the grit of Triga Films (if you dont know what Triga is, get off this blog and read House Beautiful magazine instead).
Africa is a continent of heat, danger and variation, a bit like the menopausal, hormone fuelled women from Nottingham who go there in search of toyboys. Let us start with North Africa. Women of a certain vintage have a fond memory of films like Lawrence of Arabia and ever since their female icon Lady Di shagged Dildo Al Fayed on his yacht in 1997, theyve always wanted to score with an Arabian. Too fat, old and not blonde enough to cop off with one of the Gulf lot, they try and pull the bargain bucket reject ones in Morocco and Tunisia, a bit like Deirdre in Corrie. Those who like their men like their coffee, hot, strong and black tend to head further south like the Gambia for toyboy marriage. It is estimated that middle aged women marrying toyboys since the advent of budget airlines has caused an increase in Home Office and border control jobs by 200% .
Europe is the best place for talent spotting. Those kinky so and so's love Holland, Germany and Belgium to indulge in watersports. At my previous airline, my German air hosts loved nothing better than being trussed up in a makeshift dungeon in the basement of a block of flats in East Berlin and having root vegetables shoved up their arse. Even some of the flightdeck loved getting pissed on by some six foot Teutonic bird with no tits and hairy pits. The sooner we leave the EU the better I say. Let's get back to classic British pursuits like Dogging in time to the Benny Hill theme. Oh I forgot, I'm meant to be talking about fit countries. Germany-ugly. Eastern Europe- fit birds, blokes like bulldogs licking piss off a nettle. Central Europe- body of baywatch face of crimewatch. Southern Mediterranean- up North look like pasty Shetland ponies, down South fit Mateo off Benidorm and Shakira lookalikes. Holiday resorts- ugly inbreds from South Yorkshire and for this reason your airlines give you a free pair of Beer Goggles in addition to your luggage allowance.
Dubai- Russian whores, British Z- list fuckwits with fake boobs like Peter Andre, fit local lads with pure tents in their robes.
Thailand- no fit people but freaks of nature who can write Happy Birthday simply by using their sphincter muscles and an Argos biro.
So people, the world is your oyster! Columbus was so wrong when he said the world was round. It is in fact flat in parts like a German's ballbag and voluptuous in others like a Brazilian's arse.
To summarise:
1. Germans are dirty bastards
2. Lady Di is solely responsible for all the illegals doing bogus marriages
3. The recent world cup was merely a front to host a gay human centipede on the beaches of Brazil
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