4 Feb 2006

So, here I am at Budapest airport. Far from a happy travellor - because the fucking bastards that are WIZZAIR, with whom I bought, in good faith, a flight to Sofia, have clearly decided that there are far from adequate numbers of fellow muppets with whom to fill a plane. Therefore we find ourselves, stirred by Cris's Yorkshie character, revolting against the system. The very fact that there is no way that any of us, even en mass, could ever cause the owners to be woken from their beds to address said sorry situation, seems to escape everyone. Instead, we are all up in arms and moaning. What is interesting is that the British are clearly the beast moaners by a mile. The Hungarians, Bulgarians, the odd Frenchie all mean well, fed by a distinct lack of appreciation of the deal they have made, but still their complaints lack exact direction and fall, as they all do, on blind ears. And deaf. There is clearly nothing to be done. We are petty irrelevancies, figures on a spreadsheet that will add up eventually (maybe sopmetime next financial year) and any and all distemper that we have and display is but water off a duck's back. Fuck it - I am having fun - pissed and riding the wave of popular dissent. Life goes on and I need another beer right now, so I'm off. I'll probably be back later - in about ten hours time to say the same shit. O man, people are strange, when you're a stanger...etc

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