Holiday Report Part Three Of Three

This is the final part of my three part adventure. I am very tired.

It wasn’t long after we had arrived that I realised the UK had gone to pot in my absence. Within 48 hours of my arrival the whole country came to a standstill because of some snow and a newspaper reported that some horse DNA had made its way into some beef burgers and every man woman and child were outraged at Tesco and Aldi.

Why anybody should find themselves surprised that the whole £1 they spent on 24 burgers would contain anything slightly resembling prime cuts of beef and not, as it turns out, 39% “OTHER” including horse bits and newspaper and spit, seems nothing short of astonishing to me.

Shuffleboard - Not for me but will make one for the campsite!

To gain a sense of familiarity with my countrymen I opted for a plate full of goat stew for my tea.

It was bloomin’ lovely let me tell you.

I’m not saying that because I’m one of those people who likes to eat strange food and come across as a pretentious bumhole. I had only just eaten my first ever currant scone a few days before after all.

But Goat stew was actually a very nice tender and tasty meal. It resembles lamb in many ways. And if you think about it, what is a goat anyway but a sheep without a thick jumper on?

I also discovered that HMV had been forced to declare its accounts null and void as I had not been in that weekend and bought a DVD. This infuriated me as I am a holder of one of those HMV cards that you collect points on. I have over 50,000 and had been saving up for a £50 gift card, but there seems very chance of that ever coming to fruition.

Blockbuster has also gone the way of Woolworths and Ourprice, but I’m not really bothered about that because I have not set foot inside a Blockbuster video shop since The Burbs was realised on VHS.

I kept checking the weather back home whever it got too hot to sit in the sun and was forced to sit at the bar and cool down with a cheeky little cocktail called SUNRISE.

They are very VERY nice indeed and come with the Bumferry Hogart SEAL OF APPROVAL.

The recipe can be found below. - but you will have to turn your head sideways because I am unable to correct the pictures (sorry)

But while the sun shone and the Amercians yelped and whooped their way around the pool high fiving each other for no reason at all and I tried my very best NOT to stare at the topless octogenarians that seemed to pop up everywhere my eyes fell, the snow in the UK did finally dispearse and things warmed up a little bit.

Things pretty much recycle over the next ten days and finally come full circle when, on the flight home I ejaculate AGAIN with my milk. I was really trying to be careful but alas, it was not to be. Luckily it was Mrs H was bore the worst of my outburst – HA! That rhymed.

So now I am back home and once I have had a good nights sleep and a proper cup of tea I will be expecting this country of ours to settle down and get a grip and try to get through the year without any more silliness.

This is the last time my shins and knobbly will see daylight for a loooong time!

Anyway. We are home now. And that is the end of that.

Holiday Report Part Two Of Three

This is the second part of the three part trilogy of my adventures in the Dominican Republic.

In this edition we will discover what happens when you eat the best steak in the world and what my reaction would be if you asked me to partake in any event that resembles movement in the baking hot sun when I am already sweating from just sitting still… oh and a lesbian makes an appearance although there is no unwanted ejaculation

We arrived tired and hungry. We retired to our room and decided to simply order room service and have an early night.

This was a mistake.

A Penis Colander - as I amusingly called them!

 

Calling room service consisted of listening to a phone ring out for over 5 minutes until I gave up and went to reception with all the outrage that very white pale Englishman can muster.

“Excuse me? I’m ever so sorry to bother you.” I raged like a banshee! “Would be possible to order some room service as I think I may have done something wrong with the phone and can not connect with room service. I am sorry to bother you with this…. Sorry.” I demanded.

The lovely lady at the reception desk took my order of a club sandwich and I returned to my room victorious.

The club sandwich I had ordered arrived and here is where the cultural and language differences became very apparent.

I thought I had ordered a club sandwich. That being a Sandwich. If you can imagine ANY kind of sandwich with the sort of filling that might possibly be involved in the creation of a Club sandwich, you and I would probably be on the same lines.

Room service at the Riu Palace Macao, however, decided to deliver the smallest of tiny half a slice of bread (with no crust) with a bit of American chesse and a bit of tomato.

Oh yes, and a wheelbarrows worth of chips.

The food got much better the day after. It got to the point where I very nearly cried whilst eating the most succulent and tasty, not to mention, the biggest steak I have ever had.

I forget what this is called - but it tasted as rank as it looked.

Mrs H had a lobster for tea. She said it was nice.

The following are some random notes, made at the time, in what I thought would make an amusing and informative journal. – It’s not but I’m putting it here to fill space.

There are a lot of Germans here.

Old Germans.

Germans of a certain age that I couldn’t help wondering if they were just old enough to have any regrets about shooting at my Grandad 70 years or so ago. I have Nothing against Germans per say, but there are a lot of them and they don’t look guilty enough for their age.

Try and imagine what a lot of old Germans who don’t look guilty looks like.... Well, there were MORE than that.

On our First full day the sun tried to shine and to be fair the bits of cloud cover kept me from combusting. Its seems having a natural skin tone of a greyish blue hue increases ones chance of setting alight by 87%. FACT.

ONE OF THE DAYS - during an afternoon of beautiful food and pins coladas I accidentally discovered that the hotel had run out of water. It appears that by me flushing the toilet I seemed to have run the well dry, so to speak. Never mind though, more “penis colanders” pour favour!

A DIFFERENT DAY - having finished a rather unusual meal of beef wrapped around an omelette(yes I said that the right way round) we returned to the bar for a couple of cocktails. All was going swimmingly until the arrival of a lesbian and her stray dog entered my vision.

A stray dog being petted by people who should know better than to stroke stay dogs

I became a little unnerved by the sight of dangling breasts and heavy set eyes of shame. Lord knows what diseases this poor creature was riddled with. It had obviously been abused at some point as it was fearful of men and wouldn't accept a drink from them.

I have nothing against lesbiains - I have created more than a few in my time (true story)

At this point I think I should point out that I am in fact referring to the dog and not the lesbian here. . . she was gargantuan with one of those bleach blonde cropped hair cuts though- you know the sort I mean (the lesbian not the dog) like a nineties Emma Forbes or that girl Ace who played Dr Who’s assistant when he was played by Sylvester McCoy.

Anyway, we retired to our room son after as it was very late and Earnest Hemmingways' cocktails are very nice but make me sleepy.

TUESDAY or maybe not(?) - Up early to continue sitting in the sun sweating profusely and getting the grey bits of my body to turn a slightly less embarrassing shade of death warmed up.

Everybody else here is either bronze or beautifully dark skinned. I, on the other hand, still resemble a milky bar in a selection box of caramel toffees and bournville chocolates. An odd combination for sure and not one you would expect to find in your Christmas stocking.

The super friendly overly keen and constantly smiling entertainment staff are starting to piss me off though.

Don't they realise that I'm British and therefore have no desire to interact any way shape or form with other human beings? I just want to sit and suffer in mild silence as I slowly boil down to my basic elements of red skin and salt. I have no wish to play shuffleboard, nor do I want to partake in volleyball or golf or Pilate's.
What in the world would posses anyone to move around so much in the seating heat? It's just not normal.

I will shake your hand and mutter “Hmm….yes” when you say to me “Comb over his pass?” or however it’s pronounced, but nothing more. I’m hot and English and very red all over. Thankyou.

The final part will follow shortly.

Mr Hemmingway I presume....?

Holiday Report Part One Of Three

This here is my holiday report of my holiday what I have just been on and have indeed returned from.

In a change from the norm I am writing this in a three part trilogy and like most three part trilogies it will consist of a really good first part, a rather boring second part that will leave you feeling a bit let down and a final part that you still read because you have invested your time in the first two parts and might as well see it through to the end.

Unlike other trilogies though, there will not be a lot of walking about, although there will occasions of unwanted public ejaculation, a lesbian, cultural differences and some Germans who may or may not have shot my Grandad.

The majority of this trilogy has been written upon my return using notes made at the time of events occurring and I have not slept for over 42 hours so it wander a bit. Either way, everything you read here is the truth because it happened to me.

Here we go.

It started quite badly.

On the outward bound flight to holiday I was offered a meal and a hot beverage by a sour faced misery guts old hag of an air stewardess. I accepted her offerings and refused her dour demeanour because I was on holiday and that was that.

In my somewhat over excitement something terrible happened. It was an error of judgement on my part. A simple “flick of the wrist” while allowing my imagination to wander was all it took for… I have been struggling for a way to adequately explain my actions and can only confess that I…….. Ejaculated all over the very surprised looking lady sat in the middle isle on my left.

Lovely weather for the time of y....WAIT A MINUTE!!!

It wasn't really my fault. I have always struggled to open those little cartons of milk and never really had any success. I dried up as much of the milk as I could and returned to my meal without any further words being exchanged between us.

I soon recovered from this ordeal and decided that as I was on holiday it is important to try new things. And I bloomin’ well did. I ate a scone with some butter on it.

Don’t mock. I have never eaten a scone before, let alone one with currents in it. I felt like one of those judges on Masterchef. Being offered this savoury cakey/bun thing with FRUIT inside of it! CRAZY – but it worked. I liked it. Life journey completed!

So that was the flight TO my holiday. Eventually we got off the plane, being careful not to look at the poor woman who now stunk of milk, and we made our way to the hotel.

Which part of my body am I supposed to dry with towels like THAT?!?!

Next time we will discuss what happened after I arrived into my hotel room…

WARNING MAY CONTAIN DESCRIPTIONS OF LESBIANS, EARNEST HEMMINGWAY AND SHUFFLEBOARDING.

Quiz Of The Year 2013

By now we should all have gotten over the Christmas period, trees should be in the loft (or bin) bottles should be recycled and the news should be full of public sector workers threatening to go on strike because there isn’t a bank holiday due for a few weeks.

New years resolutions will either be a distant memory or not even thought up yet and nobody in the world can stomach the thought of turkey sandwiches for at least another six weeks.

So as the nights slowly begin to get a little less dark and none of us can afford to go out and have fun because we still paying off xmas, let’s have a little game!

I present to you all – Bumferry Hogarts Quiz of the year.

Question one: How much longer can that online insurance company drag out the very weak gag of sounding a little bit little an animal and using a puppet with a Russian accent on its adverts?

Question two: Why are my keys never where I left them?

Question three: Is that you, or does the dog need to go outside?

Question four: How are you feeling?

Question five: How do you spell Constantinople?

Question five: If Peter Piper pick a peck of pickled peppers, Where’s the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked?

Question six: Has anybody heard from Alan Tichmarsh recently… or at least since all this business about Jimmy Savile got serious?

Question seven: Do you like butter?

Question eight: How many questions is this now?

Question nine: Name this song… doo de doo de dooooooo. Do de dum de deeedoooooo….

Question ten: Why are there two question fives?

Don’t forget to write your answers on the back of your hand and send to the usual address.

The winner will receive a load of Christmas cards* ready for next years festivities.

*cards may be slightly used and have some names scribbled out.

2013? You Can Keep It!

So this is 2013 is it?

It’s a bit drier I’ll give you that. Otherwise it’s been a bit of a headache.

The 1^st presented me with a load of shitty toilets to clean after just 4 hours sleep and a kitchen full of left over pork pies sausage rolls and cocktail sausages to eat (still at it now!).

Things got worse when Mrs H DEMANDED that we go shopping in the sales and bought a sofa a bed and a holiday.

Okay, I don’t mind the holiday – I’ve not had a proper break for over three years so I will let her off on that one.

2013 has also given me a chance to upgrade my contraptions and gizmo’s. With Mrs H doing her bit for the UK economy I thought I would spend my hard earned savings on a new TV. Jebus H Biscuits! That’s been a chore.

LED,LCD, PLASMA 3D HDMI WTF LOL ETC are all meaningless letters that have no business being there in that order. Why can’t TV’s just be that. And television. I don’t want Tim Wonnacott jumping out at me while I eat my cornflakes watching bargain hunt, nor Do I really care if I can see the pixels when I push my face against the screen because I don’t want to push my face against the screen.

Not even for Tim Wonnacott.

He's posher than a polished posh poodle.

Here’s hoping that shitty toilets and cocktail sausages are few and far between (I’m sure there’s a joke in there somewhere, but I’m too knackered)

Here are some pictures of our New years party, which was held in our newly built barn– which was fun and well worth the lack of sleep and sausage rolls – but not the state of the ladies loos.

The final horse race was a VERY close call indeed!

Mr Banker (my dad) and Peter winner of 2p on our version of Deal or No Deal

Various people in various states of alcoholic inebriation

Good luck to you for the next 12 months. I have a feeling we are going to need it.

EDIT: here is a video from last year in the summer of the horse racing. It really such fun!!