Ibiza
In Ibiza, they kill all the ugly people to make a race of beautiful people who have drowned all reasonable perspective. They consider David Guetta an artist. I have always seen him as a guy who plays records. They consider Haddaway's "What is Love" to be an old school classic. I was in a frozen yoghurt shop this summer and from the speakers came the sounds of acoustic renderings of dance floor numbers from the nineties spinning out like they were folk anthems from the nineteen sixties.
They were not. In fact, most people in Ibiza don't really know what an acoustic guitar is. Their musical taste was born in a computer.
It is a place that seems like camping on a mass scale. Everyone has moved their pup tents from Manchester and are only there for the sun and the cheap cigarettes.
The VIP's appear like Star Trek crew members who have been zapped from luxury yachts and aiport lounges. The place has the feel of a t-shirt with a lolly pop printed on it or a night with a very clueless whore.
Question: Why does everyone pick on Las Vegas? This place is much worse. The dickheads in Ibiza think they're altruistic souls. They go around touting that thhey are free from consumerist nonsense and the American trap. Guess what? They're not. They're dickheads that don't think they're dickheads. Atleast the American capitalist dickhead knows he's acting like one. In fact, I seemed to spot more dickheads per square meter than any other place in Europe. For the dickhead of Europe, Ibiza is his capital. You know the dickhead I mean. The one who cuts you off in order to speed up to the red traffic light. Or the guy who races on to the plane in front of pregnant mothers and kids. These guys are all in Ibiza and they think they are playing nice. They're not.
I guess from this blog you might think I was down on the place. I had fun. Who hoooo.
In Ibiza, they kill all the ugly people to make a race of beautiful people who have drowned all reasonable perspective. They consider David Guetta an artist. I have always seen him as a guy who plays records. They consider Haddaway's "What is Love" to be an old school classic. I was in a frozen yoghurt shop this summer and from the speakers came the sounds of acoustic renderings of dance floor numbers from the nineties spinning out like they were folk anthems from the nineteen sixties.
They were not. In fact, most people in Ibiza don't really know what an acoustic guitar is. Their musical taste was born in a computer.
It is a place that seems like camping on a mass scale. Everyone has moved their pup tents from Manchester and are only there for the sun and the cheap cigarettes.
The VIP's appear like Star Trek crew members who have been zapped from luxury yachts and aiport lounges. The place has the feel of a t-shirt with a lolly pop printed on it or a night with a very clueless whore.
Question: Why does everyone pick on Las Vegas? This place is much worse. The dickheads in Ibiza think they're altruistic souls. They go around touting that thhey are free from consumerist nonsense and the American trap. Guess what? They're not. They're dickheads that don't think they're dickheads. Atleast the American capitalist dickhead knows he's acting like one. In fact, I seemed to spot more dickheads per square meter than any other place in Europe. For the dickhead of Europe, Ibiza is his capital. You know the dickhead I mean. The one who cuts you off in order to speed up to the red traffic light. Or the guy who races on to the plane in front of pregnant mothers and kids. These guys are all in Ibiza and they think they are playing nice. They're not.
I guess from this blog you might think I was down on the place. I had fun. Who hoooo.
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