I hate waiting, living here doesn’t give you much choice, but it still doesn’t change the fact that I hate it.

Everyone who visits our Adult Resort knows my advice about waiting for the girls. If you book a taxi to go out at 8pm, tell the girl that the taxi’s coming at 7pm. That way she may be ready on time. Trust me on this guys, I am talking from experience.

Going to the Supermarket with me is a fucking nightmare according to Ana. I don’t mind browsing the supermarket, shit I’ve had a few restaurants and I always shopped for my own produce, that way you get the quality you want and if the quality isn’t there you go and look somewhere else. Anyway, I can quite happily spend 2 hours walking around the supermarket, pushing the trolley like a devoted husband, sneaking the odd bar of chocolate in the trolley when she’s not looking, sometimes I sneak some of those jelly sweets in and bury them under the eggs and bread so she doesn’t see them. You know the ones, shaped like snakes and fish, you must always get 1 packet of the sour ones though. Then when you are sat watching a film with your chocolate and bag of jelly sweets and the kids come up and ask you to share some of the sweets you give them a few of the sour ones first, you can see the agony in there face as tears rush to there eyes, they are fucking horrible are the sour ones, believe me, After 2 of those the kids fuck off and don’t bother you again. So remember always buy at least 1 bag of the sour ones. They work with dogs too, Bobby my trusty Rottweiler hates them too, so after they have all left you in peace you get back to the ordinary sweets and the chocolate with no more interference.

So there I am, 2 hours being the model husband, pushing the trolley around the supermarket and we get to the till. Now this is the part that gets right up my nose. You queue for 10 minutes, 20 minutes, sometimes longer. You just get to the front and start shoving the shit down the conveyor belt and the inevitable happens. Some twat comes to the front and starts talking to the till assistant, they stop fucking working and start nattering to some prick who may have a loaf and a bog roll in a basket, I’ve been waiting 30 minutes in a queue after spending 2 hours filling a trolley that’s as big as a hummer and I must now wait for this twat. Fuck that, I just walk. I leave the lot on the belt, some has already gone through the scanner and the rest is in the trolley and I walk out. She goes fucking ballistic does Ana, calls me all the vulgar English she can, I sometimes wonder how she knows so many swear words in English?? Bollocks to em I say, I just hate waiting.

It’s funny I should talk about waiting as I am sat in Caracas Airport at the moment, not on my way to the Adult Resort but on my journey to Miami and then Panama. I am traveling from Caracas with Aeropostal, now that’s a brave decision, is it not? I mean they are the worlds worst timekeepers, couldn’t give a flying fuck about customer realations. I mean if the 3pm to Margarita is only half full and the 5-30pm is also half full they just cancel the 3pm flight and stick everyone on the 5-30. So today I am being brave, I am flying with Aeropostal. Actually I’m not really being brave, I’m being tight. This was the cheapest flight available, you all know how I like to save a penny or two? Just because it’s cheap doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be punctual though. I have dreams of a flight on time, sat in a low number window seat next to a stunning 25 year old beauty. In reality it will probably be delayed 3 hours, I will get the back row, right in front of the crappers and be wedged in between some overweight, hamburger and 6 fries guzzling American and his fucking spotty sister. Why do they eat so much in America? I can never work it out, all that fast food shit they eat. Fuck if my Dad asked my Mum for some food and she produced it in less than 30 minutes, she’s be out. End of story. Listen you Cross Atlantic cousins, eat a balanced diet instead of all that Hamburger and Pizza shit. Fish and Chips is what you want, and a few pints down your neck. Or a Donner Kebab, extra chilli after a few pints. Oh I forget to mention, chips are what you fuckers call Fries. How did that word come up, fries?? I mean how do we define Fries, maybe ChrisV will look it up for me. But serious guys get on the health track or you will be getting the dear fat bastard emails that I now get in abundance every day. If you read my blog from the other day, you will see, it’s getting serious.