It’s a sad, sorry saga of a holiday dream gone wrong. Sixty-nine year old gran (they’re always a ‘gran’ or a ‘single mom’ in the meeja, aren’t they, never just a woman) Susan Edwards from Noocassel jetted off to a Greek hotel on the island of Corfu, which is in Greece you know, and then proceeded to bellyache at the lack of ‘English food’ in the place. Sounds like hell to me.
Strangely enough for a Greek hotel in Greece, it serves food such as moussaka, kebabs, fish, rice, pasta, cheeses, fruit, and (horror of horrors!) salads. You know, typical foreign muck. ‘There was no food we could eat’ bitched the old cow. ‘I have ulcerative colitis, so there’s certain things I can’t eat’, she carped, while bemoaning the shortage of her staples such as bacon, sausage and chips, all of which seemingly navigate their way through her dicky digestive tract with no problems whatsoever.
Hitting back, the hotel management stated ‘from the very beginning, this guest demonstrated their intent to fabricate complaints in pursuit of compensation, going as far as to complain about the weather’. Somehow, I can believe it.
Well here’s the thing, Granny Groan. Hotels abroad do have this unfortunate tendency to serve locally themed cuisine. If your horizons are limited to a taste for cups of tea like mother made and egg, beans and chips, perhaps you should try Margate, or better still, Benidorm. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of establishments there who are more than happy to cater for your tastes.
Nominated by Ron Knee.
I am sure she is worthy Ron, however, having recently returned from a Greek isle I do have some empathy for the cunt. The Greeks can’t fucking cook, every restaurant and Taverna are the same. They cremate all meat and fish until its rock hard and then either stick it on a stick or shave bits off it onto pita bread. Oh then they cover it in a fucking gallon of Popeye’s girlfriend. Disgusting. Had me taking shits in the sea. C.A.