I lived in England for several years
and was genuinely repelled by the idiotic fervor on display any time there was a bank holiday. The whole town seemed to stop working and the streets and beer gardens were filled with lairy stereotypes.

From screeching harridans in rape-me outfits to lobotomised cunts, jumping on each others back or pretending to bum each other.

Ho fucking ho, what japes.

My favourite day was when, at the insistence of our English friends and against my better judgement, went for a day out at Dovedale. Every available space was being used for parking and you were being charged for this privelige. I was outraged. Being a canny Scot from a civilised country, I was used to free parking, or at least a 200 yards away free option. Anyways, we park, we pay, we join the throng of bank holiday zombies. We must have walked about 50 metres before we saw the first group of cunts sitting at the side and partially on the footpath, having their picnic. Yip, the had drivem all this way, paid for parking and could only manage the briefest of strolls before stuffing their fat fucking faces.

I began to enjoy the show, I was surrounded by brainless gits, all participating in an act they believed the should be doing, but not quite understanding why. I played Cunt Bingo, and was rewarded with several full houses.

The highligh of the 'Safari Park of Twats', was watching several screeching 'look at me' kids running up a reasonably steep embankment, not a grass one, but one covered in angry looking dirt and stones like you see on a railway track. Having gained the attention of the adult apes, the kids fled headlong back down. All but one realised their gravitional folly and slowed. One was to eager to please and would not, then could not stop, the look on her face as she passed the point of no return was chilling. She had picked up a fair old velocity before she eventually took off, the silence before impact was palpable and in all honesty I had to turn away. She bounced up like a stabbed rat and ran, back down the path, not a wail, cry or whimper to be heard. The sign of real pain.

When we had reached the furthest most point, the crowds had thinned out, but was still sufficient in size to pack out the single cafe. As we turned to head back, the heavens opened and the rain came down in a torrent. I watched with glee as the gaggle of arse-candles began to bray and hoot, while dashing back towards the car park. I slowed my pace, already soaked, and breathed in the freshening air and quieting path. Even my English friends started to run, but it was a mile away, what was the rush?

We drove back to town in near silence, me wet, gloating and happy. The English had had their day ruined and I was pretty pleased. A small victory, as normal service was resumed on the next Bank Holiday.
(Cancer Joy was short lived, Thu 3 May 2012, 8:49, 4 replies, latest was 12 years ago)

I can't help imagining Jerry Sadowitz telling this story

(Zoz prayed for twink on, Thu 3 May 2012, 9:11, Reply)

I'm sorry
but as a Scot, you've got absolutely no fucking moral high ground on this. Nothing you mention here is even in the same sport, let alone the same league, of retarded cuntery, as Broxburn or any other middling central belt town on a weekend in marching season.
( the mighty badger Aphrodite, on a bar stool, by your side, Thu 3 May 2012, 9:28, Reply)

A fun day out?

( Fucking hell Jeff I am not a robot, Thu 3 May 2012, 9:29, Reply)

that's respectable and well behaved
think everyone over the age of 6 covered in home-done rangers and king billy tattoos, paralytically drunk men in suits punching each other in the street at midday, abuse slung back and forth, and the most police in one place I've ever seen. And I've been at milwall/cardiff games.

And this is nearly. every. fucking. weekend in the late summer

Edit - my post looks rather odd now you've removed the picture.
( the mighty badger Aphrodite, on a bar stool, by your side, Thu 3 May 2012, 9:34, Reply)

Picture is still there.

( Fucking hell Jeff I am not a robot, Thu 3 May 2012, 9:41, Reply)

Meh. It disappeared while you were resizing and I can't be arsed to edit again
I'll just continue to look like a fool.
( the mighty badger Aphrodite, on a bar stool, by your side, Thu 3 May 2012, 9:44, Reply)

Sorry
I can only speak from my own experience, not yours.
(Cancer Joy was short lived, Thu 3 May 2012, 9:31, Reply)

well then, perhaps sir should learn a little about his own country's special culture before slagging off others
no?
( the mighty badger Aphrodite, on a bar stool, by your side, Thu 3 May 2012, 9:34, Reply)

People acting like tits
Was a year long occupation in Glasgow, and not confined to Bank Holidays.

In MY experience, the English seemed to go especially fucking crazy on Bank Holidays, like a pack of raging benders. Hence my post.
(Cancer Joy was short lived, Thu 3 May 2012, 9:59, Reply)

massive generalisation
is massive. We could just both stick with "most people are right cunts regardless of nationality" and everyone would be happy. Except the Daily Mail, obviously.
( the mighty badger Aphrodite, on a bar stool, by your side, Thu 3 May 2012, 10:13, Reply)

Hahahah you genius

( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Thu 3 May 2012, 9:29, Reply)

tl:dr?
Cancerjoy threw his cat onto the road and it was run over, the end
( Naked Ape call me Caitlyn, Thu 3 May 2012, 9:46, Reply)

That aint true, if you carefully skim read it He's living up to a national bitter stereotype

( Light In Chains maker of the ikea sofa, Thu 3 May 2012, 9:49, Reply)

of being a mardy scottish cunt?

( Naked Ape call me Caitlyn, Thu 3 May 2012, 9:50, Reply)

Yesh

( Light In Chains maker of the ikea sofa, Thu 3 May 2012, 9:50, Reply)

*yawn*
I never believed the rumours that you were a dull, spent, old poofter, but I can now see the truth.

Get some fresh patter and some more anal tampons, before its too late.
(Cancer Joy was short lived, Thu 3 May 2012, 10:24, Reply)