Wednesday, September 20, 2017
Zante 2017 - Not part 3
Zante 2017 -not part 3
It should be noted that due to a huge influx of Russian bodybuilders and their husbands, names have been changed to keep the KGB, and the hairy behemoths, off our trail.
Location: south side of the bar, Contessina Hotel
Date: recently
Alcohol consumption: high
LR: That blog was much better, you almost said something funny
Me: What? I haven't done a blog, just an additional explanation why I'm not doing one.
MW: it was much funnier than the first blog, that's coz we were in it.
Me: seriously you lot, what the fuck? I haven't done a blog because none of you have done anything funny. Just because you fell down a drain and now can't feel your leg below the knee isn't funny, it's a medical emergency!
LR, MW, SG, ST & DT: whispers of “fully stacked it”, “trimalleolar ankle fracture ” and “surgery may be required” echo round bar, accompanied by much childish sniggering.
Me: are you all like 5?
MW: Oh stop being a miserable dickhead and just do another blog about how funny we are.
Me: I’M NOT DOING ANOTHER FUCKING BLOG!!!
SG: Yeah, and don't forgot the story about Sot’s mountain relatives being inbred with two dicks and big heads, comedy gold right there
Me: 😭😭😭😭😭
And as I have now firmly established in your minds that I am definitely NOT doing a blog I, can take the time to mention two of my favourite holiday subjects, shitty tattoos and stereotypical boorish Brits abroad. And this is a corker featuring one complete cockwomble who sits neatly in between the overlapping circles of that particular Venn diagram…
When I first saw him at the bar my first thought was that he was a Pikey Viking, but MW described him much, much better: Rag ‘n’ Bone Man.
Let's start with the tattoos. He has them all over including my all time favourite, tribal tattoos, both on arms and legs. Unless you are a fucking Maori why do you need tribal tattoos? For fuck’s sake…
There's so much more I could say about his various hopeless blotches of ink, but the one that takes the biscuit if not the whole chocolate coated selection box is the one that covers the whole of his back: a tattoo of Old Trafford evidently done with a John Bull printing outfit No.8 and a pack of child’s crayons.
Actually I only assume it's Old Trafford from the wonky legend “Manchester United” scrawled inexpertly above it. If I'm honest it looks more like Stamford Bridge to me. But this isn't even the worst of it as accompanying it are pictures of two MU legends that even Court Artist Julia Quenzler would be embarrassed by. Or, indeed, Emanuel Santos.
Honestly, the more I look at these things, the more I'm convinced that whoever committed these heinous crimes against body art was most definitely a Liverpool fan. As if the stadium drawing being so wonky it looks more like Le Dovre’s The Crabble than OT isn't bad enough, the legends pictures are just, well, laughable.
So I give you on the right shoulder, weighing in at approximately 350lbs, Cantona. I know it's supposed to be him coz it says so below the scrawl, but I promise you that the tattoo supposedly of Cantona, in his iconic hands-on-hips, 3/4 head shot pose is most certainly Desperate Dan. This could be the cause of the weight gain.
And so on to the left shoulder, weighing in with both feet at once, and a left hook for good measure we have Keane. Again, it says so, and this time it most definitely is Keane. Unfortunately for our Viking warrior the picture is without question of Robbie Keane, not Roy. I am barely able to contain my laughter as this dawns on me. I think a bit a wee might have come out.
Now, if you have been paying attention, I mentioned earlier that this man encompassed two of my favourite holiday gripes, only one of which I have illustrated here. Alas, due to the fact I'm not doing a blog, his further crimes against humanity will have to go untold, but thems the rules. Shame really, as that one would have been a corker…
# posted by Bucko! @ 8:23 AM 
