The Cancun Diaries – Day One | Scouse Bird Problems

I’ll be honest so much is probably gonna happen on this holiday that I’ll need a blog entry for every day. I can’t promise I’ll keep up with that but I’ll give it  a whirl like.

We landed in Mexico at about 3pm their time, 9pm our time. We were knackered and Susie’s ankle had swollen up pretty badly on the plane. I don’t think it could even be classed as a cankle as her whole leg was basically a massive thigh. It was a thankle, there’s no two ways about it.

We briefly napped and then decided to face the jet lag head on and get right on it. Apparently tonight we were all gon to the beach party….on the beach. We got on the coach to the club (the coach which for some reason despite the clubs being a 5 minute walk away deffo took at least 40 minutes to get there) and were subjected to the worst American I had ever seen. Snapback clad (worn backwards obviously) and chatting up some birds from Birmingham by telling them he was Mexican. Listen mate, you’re a whiter than white bellend from Texas, the closest you’re gettin to bein Mexican is if your da licked a Mexican bird out in Tiajuana Spring Break ’82. He was 20 and made up to be havin his first legal bevvy. Proper merry and doing his best shit English accent impressions. Fuckin fuck off, you’re makin me snarl an wreck me make-up.

We got the beach party and my immediate reaction to all the idiots was “I’m gettin too old for this shit.” but then I got a grip of meself and poured myself a stiff vodka. Yes poured MYSELF a vodka cos it’s a bottle of vodka on the table out here – open bars everywhere. We looked fabulous as we’d had our curly blows done the day before and only just took the pincurls out. Yeh we looked fabulous for all of 5 minutes. As soon as my hair got introduced to the humidity it went flatter than a witches tit and seriously frizzy. Devastated doesn’t even cover it. 

Despite the wool hair we were havin a boss time, the DJ screamed “All the alcoholics put your hands in the air!!!” and our hands couldn’t BE higher, then he added “If your hands not in the air you’re not gettin laid tonight!!” and we swiftly withdrew our hands and hid them. Eeeeee we’ve got fellas yano!

The tithead American walked past us and we made loud vomming noises at him, the poor bastard turned around and give us the thumbs up. We gave him the finger. No less than he deserved. He best stay outta me way the rest of the holiday or we may come to blows.

After some serious fistpumpin to the likes of “Hey I heard you got them scousebrows OOOOooooOOOO” and “I throw my hands up in the air sometimes singing aaaayyyyoooo I am lego!” I decided that seeing as this was a beach party we’d jump the little fence over to the beach and go for a swim in the sea. No sooner as I did this than the party police were all over me trying to take my entry wristband off. “Woah woah woah mate worra ya doin there ya cheeky Mexican??” He told me that now that I’d left the party I wasn’t allowed back in and I’d have to walk all the way round to the front again. The front. Really? Walking round the front was like a good couple of miles walk cos it was back to back clubs and hotels and no way off the beach. I stormed away from him and tried to climb over the fence further down to get back in but I was stopped by another party policeman. OOOh the BAStards. As he beadily eyed me I casually strolled along beside the fence “Yeh sound mate, I’ll just walk round I’ll be there in a minute.” Will I shite! I vaulted the fence before he could do anything and Susie grabbed my hand an we legged it back into the party to hide. FTM.

Eventually at aba 3am the tiredness caught up with us so we decided to walk back the hotel. We ended up bartering with a street pizza vendor to get a whole pizza for a dollar. Joke was on us though cos it was raw so we ended up givin it to a policeman in return for him puttin his lights on. Worth it.

We got back the hotel bar an had burgers an an nachos instead and ended up playin pool with some Geordies (who we only gave the time of day to cos they weren’t wearing cleavage tops) and I discovered I’m a much more accurate pool player when I’m pissed. On the way back to the room we befriended a Glaswegian couple then ran to the lifts and made sure they shut before they could get in cos we’re proper arlarses. 

Thinking it was a boss idea I got into bed and text me fella. I text me fella a load of shite. Incomprehensible. Why do we do this girls? 

I woke up fully clothed and drooling. Good night I reckon!


@boobleyboo AKA @scousebirdprobs



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