Ibiza Uncovered
Ibiza. What the fuck is up with that place? There is a programme shown here called "Ibiza Uncovered", but whether it's an advert for Hell or a gratuitous cavalcade of utter, soul-destroying argh I have no idea.
The invariably budget hotels are made of something like stained cardboard, the streets full of the most loutish tourists that have ever been allowed to live let alone acquire passports and cross borders, the air is fucked from the fumes of a thousand nightclubs belching 40%-proof droplets of sweat and jism, and the music - the supposed "real reason" for going - is utter nonsense whose enjoyment requires you to take enough E to near-kill a congenitally drugged moron, which is fine because 90% of people that go are moronic fucking cunts that pill-popped since birth.
Hey, and it used to be a lovely paradise island. Until the swirling maelstrom of capitalist extortion centred over it, decided "hey, let's make this the world capital of pretend hedonism" and fired a huge beam of pleb-priced arseholery and stupid music into its core. And granted, some parts of it remained untouched by the teeming hordes of binge spunkfelchers that storm out of their home-sweet-squalor to ransack more of the island's dignity, but they remain few and far between.
But the real reason I hate that island and what it's become are the people that come on the show, saying "hey, I'd just like to say to my boyfriend - I love you yeah, but I just really wanted to try this," before going into a pay-by-hour B&B room for a threesome with random, drunken oafs.
What's up with that? And, judging from the show (which I have never watched on purpose, because driving old nails through my eyeballs and into my brain would be less painful and more comforting than watching this garish parade of humanised goblin-shit), it seems like a lot of people are going in order to exercise hedonism through promiscuity.
How fucking charming.
Or how fucking pathetic. To what sort of low do you have to sink, to get any sort of boost from not just cheating, not just with randoms, not just on film, but all of those and on international television? Yet this is the sort of attitude that's championed throughout the show. Let go, have fun. That's letting go and having fun? She went into a room with two guys that looked like they wouldn't get laid on a desert island with a crack whore for all of eternity with the only means of escape being a magical fuck-powered boat. They were all more drunk than I get, even on Friday nights, and she was wearing so little that I'm surprised she wasn't accidentally double-penetrated by random fuckjacks walking past her in the nightclubs. That's not letting go and having fun. That's making a dead-inside prick of yourself.
Not that I actually care about that sordid, skanky bint. Not that I even care about the fucking idiot that decided to love her, or the two dregs that she finger-cuffed. For all I care, all four should have their spinal cords ripped out, sealed into a metal ball and fired into the fucking sun. What I do care about is the fucked-up premise that's being peddled to the masses here. This whole letting go and having fun thing.
It's not the same as being a promiscuous fucking retard.
Yet every other face they show on that programme is just another guy who's eaten a herpes-ridden cuntflap, or another girl that's just been fudgepacked, or another troop of orgying fuckzips that played pass-the-virus in one of the huge, miasmic nightclub swimming pools. Gah.
To sink to the level where the amount of fun you're having is directly proportional to the amount of drugged-up, drunken sex you're having with random strangers is a total fucking shambles. And the makers of the programme - Ibiza Uncovered - should be strapped into blood transfusion units and stabbed repeatedly until they take the show off air - which they won't, because as long as they're making millions through showcasing nonchalantly sexual environments, even if they end up as slashed sacks of artificially animated flesh ogling their fat bank accounts, the greedy little cunts are happy.
And in other news: I bought a kitten.
The invariably budget hotels are made of something like stained cardboard, the streets full of the most loutish tourists that have ever been allowed to live let alone acquire passports and cross borders, the air is fucked from the fumes of a thousand nightclubs belching 40%-proof droplets of sweat and jism, and the music - the supposed "real reason" for going - is utter nonsense whose enjoyment requires you to take enough E to near-kill a congenitally drugged moron, which is fine because 90% of people that go are moronic fucking cunts that pill-popped since birth.
Hey, and it used to be a lovely paradise island. Until the swirling maelstrom of capitalist extortion centred over it, decided "hey, let's make this the world capital of pretend hedonism" and fired a huge beam of pleb-priced arseholery and stupid music into its core. And granted, some parts of it remained untouched by the teeming hordes of binge spunkfelchers that storm out of their home-sweet-squalor to ransack more of the island's dignity, but they remain few and far between.
But the real reason I hate that island and what it's become are the people that come on the show, saying "hey, I'd just like to say to my boyfriend - I love you yeah, but I just really wanted to try this," before going into a pay-by-hour B&B room for a threesome with random, drunken oafs.
What's up with that? And, judging from the show (which I have never watched on purpose, because driving old nails through my eyeballs and into my brain would be less painful and more comforting than watching this garish parade of humanised goblin-shit), it seems like a lot of people are going in order to exercise hedonism through promiscuity.
How fucking charming.
Or how fucking pathetic. To what sort of low do you have to sink, to get any sort of boost from not just cheating, not just with randoms, not just on film, but all of those and on international television? Yet this is the sort of attitude that's championed throughout the show. Let go, have fun. That's letting go and having fun? She went into a room with two guys that looked like they wouldn't get laid on a desert island with a crack whore for all of eternity with the only means of escape being a magical fuck-powered boat. They were all more drunk than I get, even on Friday nights, and she was wearing so little that I'm surprised she wasn't accidentally double-penetrated by random fuckjacks walking past her in the nightclubs. That's not letting go and having fun. That's making a dead-inside prick of yourself.
Not that I actually care about that sordid, skanky bint. Not that I even care about the fucking idiot that decided to love her, or the two dregs that she finger-cuffed. For all I care, all four should have their spinal cords ripped out, sealed into a metal ball and fired into the fucking sun. What I do care about is the fucked-up premise that's being peddled to the masses here. This whole letting go and having fun thing.
It's not the same as being a promiscuous fucking retard.
Yet every other face they show on that programme is just another guy who's eaten a herpes-ridden cuntflap, or another girl that's just been fudgepacked, or another troop of orgying fuckzips that played pass-the-virus in one of the huge, miasmic nightclub swimming pools. Gah.
To sink to the level where the amount of fun you're having is directly proportional to the amount of drugged-up, drunken sex you're having with random strangers is a total fucking shambles. And the makers of the programme - Ibiza Uncovered - should be strapped into blood transfusion units and stabbed repeatedly until they take the show off air - which they won't, because as long as they're making millions through showcasing nonchalantly sexual environments, even if they end up as slashed sacks of artificially animated flesh ogling their fat bank accounts, the greedy little cunts are happy.
And in other news: I bought a kitten.
posted by Juliet is Bleeding... | 1:11 pm
Your hate is keeping me warm on this cool October day.
Very well-written post.
Juliet, are you making sure you use all the rude words at once in case they are to become rationed? ;-)
Bollocks!! (one more for the record!)
You should be careful there, DrummyGurl, people will start to think you're me posing as my own adoring female fan :-)
I came across your blog due to typing 'Ibiza is a loveless place'....one of those things you do when bored.
I live in Ibiza and have done for five years. The Ibiza which you 'discuss', and which Ibiza Uncovered makes money out of, is a very tiny part of the island and exists for a tiny part of the year and is created by a tiny part of the visitors.
Young Brits in San Antonio in August.
Why do I think Ibiza is a loveless island? I never see people holding hands, kissing or looking in love. In nightclubs, there is very little in the way of smooching or romancing. At the end of the night, men make desperate attempts to secure a hump for the night but that is hardly love.
Here in Ibiza, men and women seem to just have sex. It's very matter of fact; no strings attached. Not my bag but certainly the norm.
There are some women who still remember and crave being in love with someone who is loyal to you but I have yet to stoop to the depths which a few of them go to to get a decent man...hanging out at the airport in the hope of catching one while he's good and fresh.
I do hope you have actually been to Ibiza (please tell us) and are not judging Ibiza solely on what some money-making programme portrays. Remember that this programme makes what it makes to please the masses in Britain and not Ibiza so really it is a reflection of how badly behaved Britain is and not Ibiza.
Ibiza is not a romantic island and the men are not known for their loyalty or love of relationships but it is not at all as portrayed in Ibiza Uncovered.
Besides, there are other ways people let themselves down other than just getting drunk (which I have never witnessed in Ibiza other than by Brits) and sleeping around. I find foul mouthed people pretty off-putting too. Some people think they are cool and clever by being slags and some think they are cool and clever by using three swear words in each sentence.
He without sin cast the first stone.
Hi Hannah,
Do you find slagging me off for slagging off the programme & people that you yourself slag off, a bit like having a brain made of ten tonnes of violently infected Ibiza-slag?
Thanks!
JiB
Your opinion clearly comes from the point of view of someone who has never actually been to Ibiza. Ibiza Uncovered portrays the most extreme show off drunken behaviour that could be created in any party environment with camera crew and producers of the programme egging ppl on. Having been to Greek islands in the past i can safely say that Ibiza Uncovered is a much more accurate representation of greek islands than Ibiza.
In other words you need to get your facts right love. Critiscise the programme and the people in it by all means but don't start mouthing off about somewhere you've never been or don't understand. And to be honest your vile language and graphic descriptions are more disgusting than anything I've seen on Ibiza so I don't see where you think you're in any position to look down your nose at anything.
Come on don't be a retard. I've said pretty clearly that not all of Ibiza is like that, and my rant is levelled squarely at the programme and the people/places shown in the programme.
"And to be honest your vile language and graphic descriptions are more disgusting than anything I've seen on Ibiza..."
That made me warm and fuzzy inside :-)