Posted on: Aug 21 2009
Plymouth: Some Observations
Loading ...Firstly let me apologise for my lack of communication. Unfortunately Life, the inconsiderate bastard, likes to get in the way right when I have plans. Pestilence also decided to raise his distorted melon of a head last week: I was unfortunately caught in the throes of food poisoning. I am now in complete sympathy with all dysentery-ridden pirates and laxative-taking supermodels everywhere.
So with no further ado, I shall get on with things in my usual lackadaisical manner.
I went to Plymouth for the weekend recently and spent some time in an all-you-can-eat buffet. In my humble opinion a place of this calibre is possibly one of the best gathering places for all the freakish specimens of the human race to congregate. It was much like a Serengeti watering-hole but with more blubber and less intelligence.
[For those of you that don’t know much about Plymouth, it is a moderately-sized city in the south-west of England notorious for brawling with [and beating] the Spanish Armada in the 16th century, and brawling with [and beating] one another from as long as I can remember. A naval-turned-university city, it is awash with drunken yobs, criminals and teenage mums as well as sailors, students and hippies. Its achievements include being voted the Worst-Dressed City and having one of the ugliest buildings in Britain . It is also rather too close to Cornwall, which as we all know is positioned at the rather thin end of the stick when it comes to genetic diversity.]
Not pictured: genetic diversity
As I grazed my merry way through several succulent Chinese dishes [little did I know the havoc this meal would later cause to my digestive system], I made a list of observations about the rest of the clientele over an approximate half-hour period, and here is what I discovered [reproduced almost verbatim]:
’19:04 – Man in queue with face too small for skull. Overly curly hair and double-chin. Slight resemblance to a retarded Leo Sayer.’
’19:05 – A disturbing amount of what can only be described as female whales in here, all massing around the buffet selection. Best get Greenpeace here quick: the poor things need saving before the Japanese spot them and try to claim them for ‘research purposes’.’
’19:05 – I shit you not there is a proper slack-jawed hillbilly type in here. It’s like a scene from Deliverance. And it’s putting me off my food.’
’19:12 – A young girl that looks rather unfortunately for her, like Martin Clunes. I believe this is something known as foetal alcohol syndrome.’
’19:15 – A Ross Kemp lookalike has just shambled in. He looks rather confused. Maybe he’s only just realised he’s not in Eastenders any more.’
’19:19 – Oh. My. God. A ‘woman’ [I use the term loosely] whose blubbery belly hangs below her fucking pelvis. I’m feeling rather nauseous now. Thank god I didn’t choose the pork.’
’19:20 – A gaggle of orange-skinned female youths whose skin tones are much the same as the fish eggs that adorn the outside of the California roll I’m just about to pop in my mouth. I think I’ll leave that one for later, eh?’
’19:21 – There is actually a girl wearing a swimming costume with her jeans. She looks furtive: she’s obviously hoping nobody’ll notice. In all honesty most of the half-blind fuckwits in here wouldn’t but I’m rather more blessed in the chromosome department I feel. National Geographic would have a field day.’
’19:22 – A man, mid-50s, with hair exactly like James May from Top Gear, but uglier. This is something that never fails to amuse me.’
’19:24 – A double-whammy of misshapenness! A gentleman with a bottom lip fatter than Jamie Oliver’s AND an impressive underbite”
’19:24 – As if to counteract the underbite we now have a man with NO CHIN in the queue. Where the Jesus titty-fucking Christ are all these freaks coming from? I blame it on the weather. And Plymouth being too close to Cornwall.’
’19:25 – A woman with arms rather too short for her body. If not just a disproportioned woman, she is definitely the world’s tallest dwarf.’
These were her eHarmony matches
’19:29 – Somebody please shoot me. Another blubbery cowpat of a being with a belly that covers her pelvis.’
’19:30 – What can only be described as a group of cabbages wearing condoms has just lumbered into view through the front doors. All female. Sadly my positioning is such that I get ghastly great eyefuls of the clientele whether I like it or not.’
Even the waiters feel the need to protect themselves from possible contamination with these freaks of nature
’19:33 – Woman with posh hair-do. Doesn’t detract from the fact that her eyes are way too far apart. She looks like a cow with a chignon.’
’19:41 – I pray that I’m going to be struck with sudden blindness. A young girl dressed completely in neon orange and shoes several sizes too big has clattered into view. Please remove your vile person from my sight, you are giving me a migraine. (Amusingly there is a man right behind her with what looks like a ballbag on the back of his ox-like neck).’
’19:46 – There is a man in here that looks exactly like one of those artists’ impressions of a Neanderthal: he has a receding forehead, very prominent brows and a thick set neck. Is also wearing the customary scowl and appears not to be able to use cutlery with any modicum of success…’
At this point I suffered a complete and irreversible breakdown. Even now as I write I am surrounded by burly nurses and being strapped firmly to a potty chair. They only let me have this laptop because I promised to blow one of them later.
A word of warning: don’t go to any all-you-can-eat buffets in Plymouth, lest you want to suffer like I did. Actually, best not to go to Plymouth at all. Unless of course you’re returning to the mother-is-also-your-sister-and-your-wifeland.
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