Welcome to Sheffield. WWE is here to bring our extremely American form of entertainment to the crooked-toothed masses of the United Kingdom. To say I dislike England is an understatement of the greatest proportion.

Why do I dislike the land that shuns dentistry so much? Is it because their signs are so retardedly polite? For example, here in Great Britain, road construction closures aren’t called “Detours” they are called “Diversions” Quaint, isn’t it?

However, that’s not it….

Is it the soggy and flobby meal they call breakfast that always consists of ham, runny eggs, baked beans and a fried tomato? Not really, though it wouldn’t hurt to learn how to make pancakes, people… No, the reason that England sucks is prejudice, plain and simple.

Prejudice? But English people, with their funny little accents and silly little sayings seem so tolerant! Maybe the general population is, but the bouncers sure as hell aren’t. Try getting into any bar anywhere in the country if you are an American male after 7 PM. All I can say is two words.… Ain’t Happenin’!

This is my sixth trip to this crappy island, and after 7 PM I haven’t been able to get into a bar yet. Once in London, I walked into a bar at 5 PM, and was told “Sorry, mate, but we’re closed.” Meanwhile, five snaggletoothed Manchester United fans walked up to the bar and ordered Stella Artois without a problem. HUH?? IT’S ONLY FIVE PM!!! The prejudice shouldn’t start until SEVEN, you idiots!

That night we were told to go down the street to the St. James bar, maybe they were still open. When we got there, the body-odor scented bouncers told us they were also closed, and to go back to the bar we came from, because maybe they would be open. Needless to say, the bar was full of happy football fans quaffing a few pints.

A single event? Not hardly. This evening, in Sheffield, the same thing happened. A friend and I tried to walk into Chesters Bar at 7:20 PM. The large, stupid, bald-headed bouncer informed us that “only couples were allowed inside.”

Great. What kind of bar only allows couples inside? Do British couples say to each other, “Hey guvnor, I have an idea, let’s pop on down to couples only night at that shitty place called Cavindishes hesters, Won’t that be a hootenanny?” I doubt it.

Walking down the street, we saw equally bald and stupid bouncers outside almost every bar. Finding one where the bouncers hadn’t perched yet, we ducked in for a cold Guinness. Soon after a black, bald headed goon walked through the bar. When he noticed us intruders inside, he clicked his counter menacingly at us. When we left, he made it clear that we wouldn’t be allowed back in.

Angered and fueled by a few Guinness, we made a mission out of getting into another bar.

I have to say that not only is England a stupid place, it is an EXPENSIVELY stupid place. Each pound (which is what they call their money) is worth $1.70 in real money. Therefore, each Guinness I am buying costs me $7.00, which is money that THE BAR ISN’T MAKING by NOT LETTING ME IN!!! ASSHOLES!

The next bar we stopped in wasn’t any better. We presented ourselves to the bouncer, whose parents were clearly first cousins, only to be told simply, “Nope.” When asked why, King Retard-o looked us over for a full three minutes, the tiny wheels in his tiny brain churning furiously to find a reason… any reason at all to not let these Americans in to have a beer… then finally he pointed at my feet and said, “Those aren’t dress shoes.”

Dress shoes!?!?! FUCK YOU! You HAVE to be kidding me!! I can understand a no hat rule, but DRESS SHOES??? C’mon…. All I want is a BEER for crying out loud… I don’t even know who Manchester United IS!!!

Finally we found an Irish bar that had no Cro-Magnon bouncers attached to the door yet. We went in and paid the exorbitant price for Guinness. No harm, no foul. Satisfied, we left for the relative sanity of the Hilton, an AMERICAN HOTEL I might add.

I tried to like it here, but I can’t STAND prejudice, especially when it is directed at me.

Congratulations, English bouncers, you’ve earned your country the coveted Frenchy’s Rant GFY award!

Author: frenchy