Welcome to CUBA

Preamble;
Part ONE;
Most of the readers of this blog will know the history of me my wife Lou and my mother in law Julia who has Dementia, she is living with us in an up-sized house owned by Lou at Winnards Perch giving all three of us our own space which works to a certain extent until Julia displays further signs of the worsening of her illness, nevertheless it is time to have a complete rest from each other as stress levels have been high and low now and again (more now than again) between my loving wife Louise myself and her mum Julia who is a total pain in the arse at times but I like her a lot she is a lovely lady who keeps me in stitches with her child-like stupidity through her illness and her loves my appreciation of her overacted errors which really pisses off my lovely Lou who cannot understand my patience. So, it’s seconds-away-time to get away!
We found a lovely farmhouse care home in Hayle that Julia approved of after visiting so it was her decision that she would stay for the duration of our holiday which gave us the freedom to get away from it all into the sun so it’s goodbye to Julia, enjoy your stay away from us as we will enjoy your stay away from us as well my dear mother in law Julia!! Peace perfect peace can reign between my Lou and myself trouble is I get into serious trouble sticking up for her mum who shows Lou absolutely no appreciation for being her Carer, no pleases, no thank-you, no kiss my butt nothing, my Lou gives five-star service to her mum (my mate Julia) who adores me FFS ‘for I can do no wrong’ which pisses Lou off immensely. And so, it should! Julia is fading away she cannot do anything for herself apart from eat but she is constantly forgetting to drink, you don’t drink-you dehydrate you die Julia, end of FFS! But give her a jigsaw and she total fcuks up, challenge her on the meaning of words or get her to stop reading Pam Ayres poetry bloody book constantly OUT LOUD ffs she is perfection itself but a total a boil on the bum pain with her school Marm voice.
This blog may seem as though I go through life picking fault in hotels which is not the case however if I am on holiday with my fellow Brits whoever they are and I see incidents where there is a complete lack and disregard to the Public Health and Safety towards me and my fellow holiday-makers then I speak out loud and clear. It is quite clear that THOMAS COOK do not inspect their holidays hotels ensuring Public Safety that the totally unsupervised swimming pools could and will do harm to your children where there is a FREE BAR with seating for loutish people hell bent on getting pissed out of their minds not leaving the pool but to piss in the pool that circulates going into your children’s swimming pool and Thomas Cook management couldn’t’ give a fcuk FFS!! I reserve the rights of ‘outspoken free speech’ thank-you!
The holiday begins;
Newquay Airport was a pleasant experience this time as in previous years the departure lounge and its security were a total nightmare, I reckon if I had stripped off to my Crown Jewels G string grundies bought for me by a secret admirer (myself) they would have still wanted to scan me fs. Talk about totally over the top with its stupid scanning security outdated system of everything you own being scanned as you stand there with your belts off for security reasons your frigging trousers are near falling down to your poxy ankles ffs as you shuffle forward like Nerds United, next you are getting owned and scanned with skeleton pictures of your body and your feet are ferking freezing cos you’ve had to take your bloody shoes off and now ffs all you own including your money your wallets you’re pigging purses yer jewellery yer small change the kicking lot ffs all for security reasons. So everything you own has gone into the box to be scanned that hundreds of other people’s germs from all the boxes contaminating your property, then there was also a distinct possibility of getting frisked and scanned into the bargain cos you have a wedding ring on ffs and all because you set off their body scan system. I mean getting ferking frisked by some sweaty local bloke who is ‘loven-it my lovely’ as he frisks every part of your body that he feels like going because he wants to ffs, purvey or what? The scan business of looking for drugs is a stupid idea, the ‘stuff’ they are looking for is already on the plane in my case my man FFS! I mean this is CORNWALL trust us fs and anyway who TF is bothered if someone like me a doddery old fart for instance has got enough smokes of the weed stuff to last for his or her holiday, so what, MYOFB and blow up your pants!! Legalize it FFS!
In the real world it is becoming the norm to legalize Cannabis like Canada and the various states in the US of A not attributed to the most dangerous git on the planet motor-mouth and convicted liar Donald (duck the truth) Trump! To call him a wanker would be a great injustice and a discredit to all of us normal or rapid (one shake and it’s all over ffs) style wankers male or female or both together, I mean he must join the ranks as the complete Toss-Pot President and a serious danger to the world FFS! From the first day of his presidency the draft dodging jerk has told well over 9000 lies so far confirmed by the New York Times and the entire media including Fox News who are bigger liars than Trump the man known as the biggest motor-mouthed Pinocchio in the world FFS! To call him a twat would be most disrespectful because most ‘twats’ are loved throughout the world FFS!
Any-ways up, we finally get into the Newquay Airport departures lounge to put yer pigging shoes on readjust your clothing and get rid of yer wedges ffs, then try to find a comfortable seat and await the first part of almost 10,000 miles of our round-trip holiday. We enjoy flying and we love people watching at the way they all live their lives but we do not intrude we just observe then forget. My first real entertainment of the holiday whilst her was reading a book was looking at this some large gorgeous young lady with long black flowing hair complimented her large but pretty face sitting opposite to me waiting for the Gatwick Flight, her was reading a book with one hand and over her shoulder her had a large bag inside was the biggest packet of Wotsits I have ever seen, every few seconds her other hand would dive into the Wotsits bag and her was scoffing then into her sensuous lips and gob handfuls of them without looking and was her some large or what? Her was wearing this tight as tight is brown pair of jeans and her had the biggest pair of thighs that I have ever seen either on a bloke or a woman FFS as I absent-mindedly (liar) observed all of this whilst looking at my fellow passengers FFS.
I nudged my Lou spraying the words behind my hand “have you theen the thighs of the thunder thighs thitting over there thweetheart ffs?” She scowled at me, I mean if the lady had been 80 my Lou would have found it very funny but because her were large and very-very pretty like Lou used to be ffs I get the most ridiculous Paddington stare ffs, I mean women where’s your sense of humour going nowadays, I mean what’s going on in your minds sometimes ffs, I mean can’t some of you dearest darling wives pull such horrible snarling and frightening ghostly stares with distorted gobs at times keeping us men totally under-control we are the hen-pecked Cornish husbands that’s what we is fs we seem to have ‘no rights at all’ as she with the faces of thunder which says “shut TFU right now FFS!” and we have to obey just for the sake of peace, but we do love them and we know we are always in the rights ffs?
The new love of my life got up I suppose to go for a pee as she smiled at me, I noticed she had all her own teeth her thundered past the ground rocked and the heavens opened as her left with an air of beauty and magnificence perfumed up to the eyeballs gone and away leaving her Wotsits behind on her seat. I mean lovely her were, my mind wandered as I thought about sitting next to her on the cheap and minuscule uncomfortable Fly-be seats where you really have to squeeze yer cheeks in for the entire flight ffs hopefully it would probably be difficult, I cannot imagine anything worse than being crushed by the feminine beauty of the new love in my life ‘thunder thighs’ clad in brown denims with her perfume that were gorgeous, now then I wouldn’t personally complain cos I would be loven it either being crushed into the window seat or having to push into her because someone wants to walk up the centre aisle ffs, carry on be my guests, or ‘what if’ someone doesn’t have a seat because say they have overbooked the flight I could perhaps sit on her lap or better still her could sit on my lap OMG I can’t move what a ferking wonderful way to die FFS! The most I can hope for is my Lou agreeing to seat changes, that aint going to happen, I would be loven it loven it, but I seriously reckon that if someone were to stick a pin-prick into one of her thighs she would have gone off to such a ferking great BANG every bugger in the airport would be fricking showered with Wotsits FFS! Did I say it already ‘her were lovely’ my total respect for women grows by the inches (which I must keep under control ffs!!) But even more fun was to come in Cuba, oh yes indeedy!

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