So the shortest day of the year has been and gone, and Christmas dinner feels like it was about two weeks ago, and that means one thing: it’s practically summer. Come to think of it, it was actually pretty mafting in the run-up to Crimbo; global warming treating east London to a toasty 13 degrees of your finest celsius in mid-December! You what.
So as I’m heading back to work after Christmas, and realising that it is in fact almost time for Summer, I’m thinking about just how many fucking Ibiza statuses the internet is going to have to put up with over the coming months. The way in which people have altered their lives to become drug-hounding deep-house-skanking Ibiza ravers is beyond me; the UK has literally gone mad. Continue reading “summer is coming”