Once You Pop You Just Cant Stop

Yo mutha/father fukkas

Shampayne here, dishing the dirt and keeping it real. So, have you forgiven me for posting my message about I.D cards, instead of my holiday journal yet? Some mite say that its wrong for me to get all political but I am a Labia Party supporter at *heart*, which you would know from my previous entry about Trudie’s dad and his shameful eviction from the House of Commons. I hear hes cleaning toilets these days. Just kidding Trudie before you go and leave a shitty message. Christ some people are touchy!

Now, where were we? Oh yes, Ignacio and me in the lift. Well the morning after Shelly and I were realy hungry so we went off to the breakfast area of the hotel only to be told that they were no longer serving. I went apeshit at the mayturdy or whatever those head waiters are called.

I told him I thought it was bang out of order that they only serve brekkie until midday as most normal young people dont even go to bed until 8 in the morning on holiday. He told me I could speak to the manager if I like but I told him he could speak to my fist and belted him in the bollocks. Cheeky bleeder. If the Shampayne wants breakfast then the Shampayne should HAVE breakfast.

Decided to take a walk to the local supermarket which was just round the corner. Loads of scrotes outside looking well poor. Kept asking us for change so I told them ‘sell the big issue like they do in Britain you lazy bastards’. Not that I buy the big issue of course, as Heat magazine is more my cup of tea.

Put some bread rolls and cheese in the basket, but couldnt find proper cheddar and stuff just this fetter shit that looked like old cottage cheese. They didnt sell Walkers crisps but they did do Pringles so we had six tubes of those. Shelly wanted to buy bottled water but I told her we should save our money for vodka and not to be such a spendy wendy. I should of let her have the water realy as I had no intention of paying for the food. Ended up whacking the fire alarm and did a bunk with the groceries. Result!

At 7pm had a call from Jay and Gordon asking if we wanted to meet up for a meal. They said they fancied traditional greek food and said that theyd found this place called ‘La Bamba’ down the road from their hotel ‘El Diablo’. When we got there, I couldnt fucking believe it as in addition to Jay and co, there was Trudie and her parents. Shit.

Trudies mom and dad ended up asking us to join them and for the next hour and a half I realy dont remember much except for the dull drone of Trudies dad going on and on about how fantastic the opportunities were for him since leaving westminger sorry Westminster blah blah blah. I ate my goats cheese pizza, which was the nearest thing to normal british food on the menu and announced that I was going back to the hotel to get felt up by gorgeous Greek waiters. Trudies mom called me ‘common’ so I emptied the wine bucket over her head and told her to kiss my tits. She wasnt best amused and Trudies dad told the rest of my mates to sod off. Still, the joke was on us as none of us had paid our part of the bill. Ker-ching!

Ignacio had slipped a note under our door when we got back asking me to meet him by the pool at 10:30 when his workshift was over. I didnt know whether to do it or not as it meant not joining the others at ‘L’Esqualita’. I decided to have a spliff and chill out in the room with the rest of the Pringles.

Woke up at 10:45 to the sound of the door opening and Ignacios voice whispering ‘hey gorgous lady, can I love you right now’. I was pretty much out of it thanks to the cheap vodka so I pulled my bra straps down and let Ignacio play ‘mommy and baby’ with me. God he was eager. I had got half way through the tube of paprika Pringles, which frankly arent my flavour of choice. I normally like the sour cream and onion ones but wont eat the light version on principle – if its got half the fat you have to eat twice as many. Botherd.

Anyways, Ignacio moved from the ‘first floor’ down to the ‘basement’ and started eating me like a vulture. God, it was the first bit of attention my foo foo had since the whole battery-acid incident with the vibrator. I tell you, it was like someone had plugged me into the mains. I couldnt stop screaming. After the fourth time Ignacio had ‘dined at the downstairs restaurant’, I flicked the light on as it had got quiet dark by this point.

Turns out that it wasnt Ignacio at all. It was some strange bloke that tried to feel my arse in reception the day before. Worst thing was, Ignacio came up to the room to see why I was late and found me with my knickers hanging off my ankle and some dodgy geezer wedged between my knees. Oops.

I guess you could say that my holiday romance had ended before it really began. Fucking fuckety fuck, as the saying goes. Still, no point in crying over spilt milk or the fact that I had just been eaten out by a total stranger in a Greek hotel room. Why worry about such stuff.

Kicked the weirdo out and continued to eat the Pringles. Got almost to the end of the sixth tube and Shelly came back. She said that Trudies dad was going to press assault charges against me. Big deal. She also said she had seen Ignacio crying down by the pool.
Well, that settles it then, I said. He quite obviously a bummer if he can turn on the waterworks so bloody easily. Someone pass him a tiara, the big drama queen.

I have said it before and I will say it again, Shampayne needs a real man, not some lilly livered ponce that stinks of taramasalata and sambuca.

I then threw up out the window as I think I had overdone the Pringles by the end of the fifth tube. Heard a yelp and some swearing in Greek, so looked over the balcony to find Ignacio scraping diced carrot and pringle puke off his chest. Result!

Laters x x x