Boating on a lake brings much distress when some bloke suddenly hoses all over your back - 'tis most unpleasant!
Still, not as unpleasant as going to breakfast with the sight of EuroChavs parading round in their PJs. Well, I say PJs, more t-shirt and undercrackers with a hungry arse. Last thing you want when faced with a full English is some harradan picking the seat of her scanties out of her arse and putting you off your sausage.
Although, some people are far too fond of all day breakfasts - seems to be an every five minutes for some of these two tonne Tessa's putting everyones life in danger! You know them bars that drop over your gut to keep you safe on the ride, well some bloated trollop was so obese, she was huffing & puffing it was too tight, and whinged all the way through! Too tight? Coz of her portliness, we end up with very slack safeguards! I could've sat Chez on me lap and STILL it wouldn't keep me safe! Imagine the outcry if I'd been tossed out of me seat and got impaled on a giant branch, just because some Scummy Mummy can't say no to Chips for brekkie.
(And how come the Fresh Fish & Chip shop poster shows no fish, only pie? Pie & Chip shop or Fish & Chip shop? Oh, the confusion. Probably Pie, fish, pie, chips, pie and extra batter (and a pie in batter) for the porker preventing the safety bar to lock me in).
Safety! Don't make me laugh - look at the latest Alton Towers map. On the right, in X-Sector, it shows the ride 'Submission' - and it's the only ride on the map that depicts funseekers being thrown out of the ride to an untimely death! Although I did go on the Runaway Death Trap, and sadly for you lot, failed miserably on getting demised by the shoddy workmanship of maniacle moonshined miners.
And how come, in a park with like a million people, do you keep running into the same few? Started off when it was discovered that there was a clone of me running about. It was not a clone of me at all, but a very very very lovely lady modelled on Amy Winehouse... but no matter where we went, there she was. Of course, I probably noticed her more as she stood out a mile in all her summery gorgeousness. (the only other person we recognised was breakfast minge, but that wasn't half as pleasant as my Amy. Amy MINEhouse. Mine, mine mine! Even if she was with some Pete Docherty scuzzbucket.)
And coz it were all Piratey, I wore an eyepatch a lot! I reckon that's gonna be my new fashion accessory! Move over Gabrielle, I'm off to Chains/Rawkus on Fri wearing said monocular vision disabling device... although peripheral vision means an increase of door collision, and the accidental bumbing into nubile young maidens.
Ohhh! Result! I wonder where I can buy a range of suave, sophisticasted eyepatches.
Call me Snake!!
Plissken, that is. Not a cock.
Although, and I can't stress this enough, wearing an eyepatch dies not make me fair game for Pirates seeking wives, so any other females trying to escape a lifetime commitment to Blackbeardy types can leave me well out of it.
I dunno - what with nightwear abuse, arranged marriages and the supplied jizz party in the shower kit from Hotel Management...
...can't wait for next year!
