Brits Abroad

I would like to nominate ‘The British’ and their fucking foreign holidays for a long over due cunting.

First things first…. Covid came to the U.K. by some Doctor cunt who had been skiing in the Alps. Why the fuck people who live in a cold, damp climate would pay to go skiing and get cold and damp is completely beyond me. Pretentious Toynbee-esque cunts of epic proportions. The crowd bemoaning the lack of a ‘break for the mountains’ can go and suck a bag of pretentious dicks.

The second is the ‘summer hollibobs’ cunts. You have just sat on your fat lazy arses for the last 13 months and you expect us to believe you ‘need’ a break in the sun? I travel extensively for work and this last year has been a joy to travel with out hoards of these mouth breathing knuckle draggers and their cunt kids clogging up air ports.

The IQ of the average British holiday maker rapidly diminishes the closer they get to an airport, Which is why check in and departures always look like a scene from the walking dead.

99% of these cunts do fuck all at work so the notion they need a holiday is fucking laughable. Do us all a favour, stay at home. Doing nothing and going nowhere is under rated. It’s you holiday cunts that brought Covid you selfish fuckers. fuck you and your holidays, stay the fuck in the U.K. until this shit is over, pricks.

Of course, I realise that as ‘a Traveller’ it sounds hypocritical cunting people for moving about the world, I work in cargo shipping and have done for almost 28 years, and as has been beautifully demonstrated by Ever Given, this is what happens when you have third world monkeys running large, and vital cargo ships. It’s my job to keep these cunts in check and the work list has been doubling in the last 10 years thanks to these Mickey Mouse cunts.

Nominated by: The Captain

104 thoughts on “Brits Abroad

  1. I work with a group of sweaty, chavvy, boz eyed cunts who consider Nando’s to be fine dining and talk about Love Island the way most of us would talk about The Sopranos. The one member of the pack that I tolerate to a certain degree has asked me three years running: ‘You’ll come away with us won’t you mate? Y’knaaawaaaiiimeeaan?’ I usually just make some polite excuse about being skint or having other plans but in truth, my answer is ‘I would rather die of Crohn’s than spend five minutes in Magaluf with a man who not only chooses to call his son Dwayne, but advertises that fact by having it tattooed on his neck. Fuck off and die.’

  2. Bollocks to going abroad.

    Strange food and dodgy wotsits.

    Natives zooming over zebra crossings.

    Why the fuck would you want to go to somewhere where the water that comes out of the taps is poisonous?

    Is it Greece where you have to put your shit-stained toilet paper in a bin to ferment in 40 degrees, – because the sewer system is a pile of 2nd rate shite? Fuck that for a game of soldiers, this is the 21st Century not the Dark Ages.

    I’ll stick to Scarborough and a Spam fritter, chips and peas thanks.

    Uncultured maybe. But as Peter Gabriel once sang, “I know what I like, and I like what I know”!

  3. Worse place to travel abroad excluding countries you have to wipe your arse with your hands after you take a shit, is Australia. Mind you, the whole country is one big death trap, with nought but savages running it with convict blood flowing through their veins for which you have to accord some respect but their cleaners are shite, in Perth at least nothing opens until Midday and half the time the public transport drivers would seem to be on the lam taking you the passenger hostage.
    I could happily vacay (as they annoyingly say here in California) in Fiddlers field. Could get me hands on some quality LSD. Just have to raid me oldest sons top drawer.

  4. I tend to go to placed where you will never see an England football shirt or an all day English breakfast sign outside a cafe.

    This makes the only other holiday piss boiling hazard Ze Germans.

    Abrupt to the point of rudeness, sour faced, sun lounger / barstool hogging cunts who don’t tip waiters or bar staff who live off their gratuities.

    The locals tend to serve them with the ruthless efficiency they demand in the hope of getting them out the door as soon as possible.

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