At the start of the pandemic, cruises did their best to bring about the destruction of everything we hold dear. It’s now a couple of years later and cruise ship people are salivating over the idea of getting back on these floating Petri dishes when the ban is lifted in April.
This is great if you are looking to get infected with something – because like a sloth playing soggybiscuit, you are very unlikely to avoid copping a big load of everyone else’s unpleasantness. COVID-19, gastro, STIs, you name it, you can contract it on a cruise.
It’s not all blood tests and rectal exorcisms, there are also plenty of other activities to enjoy on a cruise. For example, after forking out way more than you should for a 9-day cruise you also have the opportunity to piss away more of your retirement savings at an onboard casino.
After you’ve donated to the church of gambling addiction one must enjoy the other activities on a cruise. Namely, get into a massive derro family brawl that causes the liner to turn back and have the AFP so far up your arse they could do a COVID throat swipe while they’re there.
If that doesn’t tickle your fancy there is always binge eating. Make every meal count as you recreate the gluttony scene from Se7en without a hint of remorse.
If becoming obese isn’t yout thing about about swimming in a pool that gives chlorine a run for its money. Don’t worry about getting out to use the toilet, no one else does.
Just become a little piss noodle in the refreshing urea soup. Then go and heckle the comedians that are wheeled out night after night to serve as your dancing monkeys.
It wouldn’t be a cruise unless you could dock at port and spread your disease like a toey U.S sailor on a night out in Freo. Remind everyone in the impoverished island paradises you visit that they should be thankful for your tourism. Speak slowly in case you think they don’t understand English.
Feel free to also get a perverse pleasure from the tons of pollutants spewing into said island paradises. Remember, they are lucky to have your tourism. Plus your ability to consider the state of the planet has never extended past your own mortality, so stuff it, ay.
When you’re done cruisin’ please return to shore, shed whatever virii you have left and then upload photos ridden with old blokes in cockjocks in the background to Facebook. This is the natural order of things.
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?