Submitted By: Jessica Martin
Just what is the appeal of travelling somewhere hot to sit sweating on a beach in a bikini with your pasty-white English flab hanging out on all sides? I do in fact have six-pack, it just lives in my fridge and gets topped up daily so the last thing I want to do when I go on holiday this summer is parade around showing off my non-existent abs.
This seems to be at odds with the rest of the British public though. The holiday booking season is in full swing. At least it is in my office, where my co-workers are currently spending their break time, lunch time and most of their working hours scouring the web for bargain beach breaks. TOWIE looks set for its next jaunt to Marbs and boot camp is booked out until August by podgy porkers who don’t stand a chance in hell of getting their bodies back in shape before offending the locals on the beach.
Nonetheless they’ll flock to the Costas and parade their sunburnt flab in all its grotesque glory. They’ll spend their days moaning about how the Germans nick all the sun beds, without it ever occurring to them to get up before midday and stick their own ASDA towel out on one. They’ll whine about the foreign muck (that’s food to you and me) and shove a full English down their throat for breakfast, lunch and dinner. They’ll wash this down with several kegs of Grotburger lager, pausing only to burp, fart and pull on a fresh football shirt/Primani bandage dress (delete as appropriate) before heading out on the town. Here they’ll join an “organised” bar crawl (I use the term loosely) designed by tour operators to get their punters so disgustingly drunk they’ll sign up for the next day’s booze cruise on the spot and snog the fat rep from Wigan out of pity and on the promise of “free entry” the next night (whatever that means).
Throw in a quick stop at a strip club (the boys), a semi-naked display at a wet t-shirt competition (the girls), plenty of foul language (both), a pool of sick, a fight, an arrest and a lost pair of trainers and here you have another typical day in holiday paradise. Sounds like hell to me.