Saturday, 5 December 2009

Wasn't It A Lovely Day The Day We Went To Mecca.

For those of you who do not know me allow me to introduce myself; I'm a 24 year old single poof from Manchester with a liking of cheap wine (one has to become accustomed during the recession,) and music by the Sugababes. Now in light of this little information I have given you, you can imagine my absolute horror when I was sent to work in deepest darkest Africa with my job as a trolley dolly, (I do believe you Americans call us flight attendants.)

Given the contract to work for Ethiopian Airlines flying Muslims on there pilgrimage to perform the Hajj, I found myself residing in a little war torn country called T'Chad. Now if like me you've never heard of this country before and you ever get a chance to go, don't. There is a reason you've not heard of it; it is the arse end of the world. Here the words Ipod, Jean Paul Gautier and Gay Bar have never been muttered, with the latter phrase more than likely to result in a stoning in a country where a little bit of man on man thrusting is still illegal. And as my friends are well aware of an internet connection is about as common as finding the Pope in your local gay bar sipping a Gin 'n' Tonic, the best I got was when I climbed a tree and pointed my iPhone towards a passing satellite and hoped for the best.

Now as you can imagine, working for an African airline the aircraft wasn't exactly modern, in fact I'm positive you could see the marks on it from where it had been dug up from the desert after it had been shot down during the First World War. I truly believe you could hear the big bird crying out for retirement as she struggled on every take off. She really was held together by sticky tape and the grace of God.

Not all was bad over in the Sahara, we had a lovely time in many a room party. In fact with the crew mostly gay it was just like being in a local bar, I liked to call my room Club Blanche. Lots of drunken antics took place and I'd love to be able to tell you them only I was that pissed I can't remember, however, there is photographic evidence of me dancing around a some lovely shiny leggings, pixie boots, sparkly top, red lipstick and sporting the latest winter range of Abiyas whilst singing 'I am what I am.' Feel free to go and view them for yourselves over on my face book page.

Now I'd love to be able to stay and chat but I'm being shipped over to Jeddah very soon for five weeks. I will try my best to behave but I think it's for the best if you keep on checking CNN to see if I've had my hands chopped off in Chop Chop square after I've exposed myself to a passing Arab King whilst pissing into a turban. Now don't forget to click on the follow link on the left side of the page and enter your email address for updates, you can now also follow me on twitter and don't forget to keep checking back at Handbags'n'Botox at

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