Boris and the fish!

Goodbye France, it was very nice with you and the BOSAMO still has some unfinished business with the Alpine passes!

A quick visit to Belgium is now in order before the wicked one sneaks into the Netherlands.

The noble Belgians will not be able to register this animalistic short act of fried pleasure so quickly, only the smell of the foetid will linger longer in Bruges, as if hundreds of rotting fish carcasses were lying on the streets.

But all of that will happen tomorrow!

Today, the ignoble traveler has struggled a bit through France and indulged in a short stay in Calais, hoping to catch a glimpse of the English coast.

But unfortunately, Avalon's fog concealed the land from the gaze of the murky-eyed scoundrel, so there was nothing else to do but observe some Schinakl, take pictures, wander around a bit, and then transport the hardened arse to Belgium.

For a brief moment, the unworthy one had the idea of booking a ferry to pay the British a visit, because what could be funnier than conjuring up a proper chicken arse in Boris' tousled head of hair, maybe even giving him concrete shoes, and sprucing up the bottom of the English Channel with a blond, British gentleman.

But it would be feared that through the toxic lies of this 'politician', the quality of the edible fish populations would plummet to such an extent that even the leanest predators would regurgitate their prey and henceforth follow the vegan path of dietary doctrine.

No one would dare to eat sea fish anymore, and as a result, the waters would be teeming with them once again.

A terrible thought!

Creatures instead of plastic in the water:

The entire sea would be crapped on!

But death is only free of charge, even death costs life, and so the fun was a bit too expensive for the traveling one, and Boris is off the hook.

P.S.: Stay out of trouble and overlook my mistakes!