"Chicken by the Sea"
The irony of an up and coming holiday, is the mere exhaustion level that is reached by the preparation. It's a clever ploy by the travel industry to grind us down to such a state before we get there, that we become past the stage of caring that a JD and coke at the hotel bar is nearly a fiver and fuck it, lets book a massage for 14 days instead of 2, because I'M GONNA NEED A BREAK!
It's been a good 9 years since I've been to a rather posh hotel that requires actual evening dress, which forced me to whine after a sharp intake of breath, "what do you mean I can't wear jeans? I have nothing to weeeeear!". It seems amusing that I get treated to a holiday, but am forced to spend !*$* hundred pounds on a whole new decent summer wardrobe, including new tankinis, because.... "blimey, who the hell pumped up my boob pressure when I wasn't looking?". (Do I talk about my boobs too much? I do don't I. Oh god, I'm getting like Jessica Simpson aren't I, only not quite as bright).
