The train from Antwerp to Amsterdam was busy. I asked a selfish lout to move his bag from the seat next to him so I could sit down.
Lout looking out the window and talking on his moby in a strong Saahf Laahndan accent, sounding aggrieved:-
“I’m on the train. Don’t know where I am. Faahkin graffiti everywhere. Faahkin mosque. Blow it up. I’ll be ready for some puff when I get there.”
Oh, shaaht it, you ignorant Saahf Laahndan lout, most of them on this train speak English better than you do.
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