Well it started off tryin to get a passport. I thought I could use me staff ID, turns out yer can't. Good job I found out before I got to the airport. After years of workin hard on till 1 and at the wireless I decided to head off to see me mate Gaynor in Too Loose France. Thanks to Jet2.com who kindly had some ded cheap flights goin. I did have Sophie demented in the social media department....
God love her, she tried didn't she. Well I got to the airport, made sure I got frisked. I popped a hard boiled egg wrapped in tinfoil into me intimayte wear, took about 5 full body frisks before I let Cess Pitt the security guy know what was makin the scanner bleep. Then before you know it I'm onboard the plane. Brought back terrors of when I was an air hostess....the stewardess on the door says 'Good morning' to which the punters scream 'FOURTEEN A' no sir, I didn't ask your seat number you bell end....then that irritating response to the simple question 'What would you like to drink from the bar?'....which then makes the punter take his glasses off when it should be his headset and shouts 'WHAT HAVE YOU GOT?' Right you arse wipe, I'll just read out everything in my trolley....and keep going even though you stopped me after the first item.........................OMG. I wasn't even working on the flight and I was getting wound up....
Landed in Too Loose and was whisked to Casa Naddell....ded posh it was....it even had a swimmin pool. I knew her when she had a outside toilet in the Gorbles....now look at her. Mind you, I did have a piss in the pool so I guess she still sort of has an outside loo! Don't tell her. She thrust a large glass of Rosy in me hand....
It wasn't long before the conversation turned to food. Well I wasn't goin to be eatin any forrin muck like Pomm Frits or Pasta....So we headed off for the 'supermarketto' (that's French for supermarket, I think....I find if you just shout at the forrin ones and speak slowly they understand....
'DO AY YOU AY HAV AY ANY AY BROWN AY SAUCE AY?' It worked....I was directed to the 'Inglish' section of Le Supermarketto. There it was, everything I'd need for a few days in a forrin cuntry. 'Le Seckshon Inglaysh' complete with 'Le Pot Noodell'
Then just when you think things can't get any better, in the Non Inglaysh seckshun was Le Boil In Le Sac fish. They'd copied us Brittish.
Well they say France is the lurrrrve capital of the world and they wern't wrong. On the way back from Le Supermarketto we went to Le Garage. There he was, olive skin jet black hair and holdin his firm shiny hose....Pierre Onion....Me Le Fanny nearly bit me leg off. We hit it off straight away....well sort of, I got a picture of him lookin lovingly into Le Vwature (that's car)....I could hear Chanson Da More playin in the background....it was Amor at first sight....
They say true love never runs smoothly, and it didn't. Just when he got close to le vwature he realised how hard it would be to to keep up a relationship from such a Distonce (that's distance)....He ran to his car and sped off....It's a curse bein so bewtiful. As he sped off into le distonce I reflected and remembered that old french saying....'Better to have nearly loved and lost than to never have nearly loved and lost at all'....we headed back to Le Shattow Naddell and I slipped into me cozzy and sat thinking of the love I'd lost....had to wear a douche (that's shower) cap to stop me hair goin frizzy!
Later that day we went on a sight seeing tour of famous buildings....Le McDonalds, Le Subway, Le Burgoir King....real culture in Too Loose. Me time there whizzed by. I enjoyed the company of some ex pat laydees too....They just stay twunted all day to take their minds off the fact they live in France....Lynn the Lush, Shirl Le Whirl and Emma Le Tarte Onion....The real housewives of Too Loose! I had a ball with them....Before I knew it was time to head to Le Airport for home....not before a walk round the most exponsive (that's expensive) shopping centre in the world! 90 Yourow for a tee shirt! Not a Le Primark in sight! Then all of a sudden our eyes met.... well sort off....like a vision from Poldark....there he was.... Claude....We were meant to be together....
I was transfixed....he was trying not to make it obvious he wanted me by lookin at his phone....but there was a vibe, an air of electrisity....I nipped to Le Bog (that's toilet) to powder me nose....when I came back the same fear had struck Claude that had struck Pierre.....How could we carry on our passionate affair from such distonce (that's distance)....I accepted another loss and moved on....I drowned my sorrows with a double cheese burgoir (that's burger) and fries with a bottle of Rosy wine at the airport....
Next stop Casa Macca sons Le Wirrel (that's Wirral)....
Oh Revwar Too Loose....Pierre et (that's and) Claude....until next time!
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