Alright boys CALM DOWN CALM DOWN! its not that long since we discovered flying machines but already weve extended the runway to accommodate Wilbur and Orvilles high flying contraption when they visit! and as for the lavatorial amenities, well Mr Briss why not wait till you get to Amsterdam, go to a café and spark up a doobie on the bog, theres nothing more relaxing than a good stoned shite!

Briss finally escapes the customs man cavity search {see what I did there?} then is persued by a gang of Welsh natives to his waiting charter moored at the JLA quayside!

'Them fuckin NAZI's were back again today, bastards!'............. well Briss did you go to the museum, or were you to bizzy getting stoned and contracting STDs from the trannys?

A chap tires fairly quickly of Dutch Masters. An hour in the Rijksmusem is not dissimilar to a night out with dVious. Lots of chaps with handlebar moustaches and far to many lobsters than is natural.

Well thats the culture done, time for the Heineken.

:D

:D

Well Schiphol is not bad as international airports go. At least its not that miserable dogsbed in Liverpool.

Amsterdam airport offers a chap a choice of bars, exclusive shopping opportunites should Mrs Briss ever be invited, dammedly cheap Monte Christos, and more cheese purchasing opportunites than dVious in the Pink Flamingo.

So all in all the Briss is sated and content. Only one brush with the unwashed to endure (easyjet) and then home to the welcome bosom of Mrs Briss God Bless Her.

Blighty here I come, Huzzah !!!!

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Departures Schiphol this afternoon, can anyone spot him?

So you were there as well Mr Watterslack ?

Yes I was the good looking chap with the California Highway Patrol outfit on! you know the one you kept asking to bang you up in the slammer!

(02/09/2013, 10:37)Hilary Briss Wrote: So you were there as well Mr Watterslack ?

Didn't realise it was 'that' sort of trip Briss.

You weren't really clear on the details though.

Now I see why.

Well, that London.

Not sure where to start really.

The day started in delightful fashion with a spectacular lunchoen of lobster and virgin's gusset in Mayfair, however the day swiftly took a turn for the worst. Some miserable bog trotting heathen suggested that a "return to the office for a meeting" was somehow appropriate.

Fucking cod faced chutney ferret. Do they really think the Briss suffers 3 hours on public transport to have his day interuppted by a mind numbing god awful soul sapping meeting.

the Tedious Shite with which a chap must suffer.....Flickercak HELP !