Just a bunch of run down, beaten down, slapped down, broken down, shot down, hung down, put down, and kicked around Isle of Man immigrants who've been beaten up, tied up, chewed up, blown up, hung up, screwed up, messed up, held up, and told to shut the fuck up.
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
Gypsy Brother
My Gypsy Brother and his wife live one day to the next, or so it appears to the casual outsider.
They both are sales people of great renown in their particular field. They flit from Job to Job on what seems an almost daily basis. Not only from Job to Job, but often from Country to Country.
Everywhere they lay their hat; we keep thinking that is brilliant, as we’ll book the flights for the next holiday and then just stay with them.
On paper in sounds that simple, a cheap holiday every year…..
In reality, it is a lot different.
He rings up and say’s that they’ve moved Jobs and are no working in Paris. We then think right, that’s where next Summer’s holiday is. If we book now, we’ll get cheap flights.
Two months later, he ring’s up and say’s, “You haven’t booked those flight’s have you?” “Why?” I enquire. “We’ll we have moved jobs again and are now in Spain….
So where is he next? Bali, Indonesia.
Do you know how much for flights for 2 Adults, 3 kids return to Bali, from Ronaldsway, Isle of Man?
£7,266.50
Therefore, I could book the flights (if I had the money) and by the time we get there, he’ll be in Dubai….
NFTR
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