It's time for your week 4 Love Island Mid-Week Mug Off, and Wes and Megan have been so bad that Daisy Buchanan's rage is BIBLICAL...
This feels like the end of an era, because at the time of writing, not only have Eyal and Zara gone, but the boys and girls that are still in the villa are about to welcome TWELVE NEW PEOPLE! And when I say “welcome” I obviously mean stare at, whisper in front of, and bitch about. The girls will treat them with suspicion. The boys will divide them into “blondes” and “brunettes”. Now, I really hate change. In fact, hating change is the closest thing I have to a proper hobby (after tweezing out my chin hairs), but I’m starting to wonder whether change is necessary.
Toby Earle, the TV editor of the Evening Standard tweeted “THEY’RE BUILDING A SEX ARK”. Initially, I thought I would rather drown than board the ark, but Love Island 2018 has gone a bit Book Of Genesis. Replace “fornicating” with “doing bits” and suddenly you’re fearing for everyone’s mortal souls. I think there’s a compelling argument for sticking Caroline Flack in a biblical cloak and simply starting all over again. Especially now that there’s no more Eyal, and I’ve stockpiled a load of useless jokes about salt lamps and wind chimes.
Now, Wikipedia’s version of the Genesis Flood Narrative and the one I remember from Primary School RE don’t quite tally, but I have a vague memory of God becoming angry because of an upswing of public brawling. This is what the nation was doing on Monday, when we became divided over The Great Pie-ing Off. Ellie decided she did not really fancy Dr Alex, and said what many of us suspected all along. To paraphrase “Before I got to the villa, I didn’t understand why no-one liked him. I thought he was great. Then I got to the villa and spent some time with him and suddenly it all made sense!” Alex took it in the calm and rational manner that you’d hope to see from someone who saves lives, wears a stethoscope and may or may not have occasion to remove the odd Pringle can from a stranger’s bum.
That’s a lie. Alex went red – fully and undeniably carmine, so red that his broiling from the Majorcan sun could, in comparison, be classed as “a tan”, and started shouting. Ellie had made “no effort” to get to know him. Ellie was “rude”. It quickly became clear that when Alex said “effort” he meant “acknowledging my erection, which I’ve spent all night nudging into the small of your back while you pretend to be asleep.” Twitter came to the conclusion that Alex was brattier, whinier and more entitled than a regional manager on a business trip in a pay as you go airport lounge double fisting pints of Stella while hoarding individually wrapped Speculoos biscuits in his socks. Some furious fans claimed that Ellie was “playing a game” and led Alex on, and to them I say “It’s 2018. What are you talking about? No-one owes anyone any sex. No-one deserves to be shouted at like that. Bring on the great flood.”
Another surprise came from Georgia. I haven’t been a fan of Georgia in the past (and by past, I mean six days ago) because let’s be real, she was essentially Scrappy Doo with HD brows. But Georgia has shocked us all in the loveliest way with her kindness, compassion and sense of humour. Georgia is looking after Laura, after The Great Betrayal. It has also been pointed out to me that Georgia was especially kind to Rosie after Ol’ Stinky Beads did his usual.
Only Megan hates Georgia. Then again, only Megan has been cosying up to Wes as if he’s the only one who has a lighter for the fire pit. “I feel like I can be geeky and silly in front of Wes,” she simpered, before giving him the sort of geeky, silly snog that would have been banned by most television channels before 1995 on public decency grounds. Kissing Wes during a kissing game was pretty dodgy, because even if Megan had less empathy than the unused swimming pool, she’d know that the snog would be the last thing Laura wanted to see. Then there was another non-game snog, when Megan said Wes ought to give her another kiss “otherwise you don’t like me.” Megan is about as geeky and awkward as Jessica Rabbit, and when it comes to game playing, I’ve seen toddlers cheat at Buckaroo! with more discretion. That said, it takes two to behave like horny idiots, and Wes had practically taken his trousers off before Megan had tilted her head in his direction. If she’s Muggy Megan, he’s Wandering Wes. Actually I prefer W****r Wes.
We’re a bit gutted to see Zara go, but horribly delighted because Adam is clearly so very cross. Possibly because he’ll miss her, but probably because he didn’t get a chance to do his pantomime villain bit and pulverise her heart by ignoring her, telling her she’s crazy and then cracking on with a tree, a sun lounger and his own water bottle. We will also miss Eyal, although you would think that someone of his spiritual pedigree would have the measure of Megan, and not be quite so shocked by her behaviour. The rest of us could see it a mile off, Eyal. Was it not in your tarot?
Biggest grafter: This one goes to Laura who has the hardest job of all – keeping her end up and being a lovely teapot in a world of bad, mad mugs. Laura, you’ve got game. Keep on cracking on!
Most melty: We’re melts for Georgia, and we’re so sorry we ever doubted her. Any fashion brands out there need to know that we love her so much we would buy her swimwear range in its entirety.
Pie time: Oh, wouldn’t it be nice to teach Megan and Wes a lesson with a load of crumbly shortcrust pastry. I would like to throw them both into the sea. Of gravy.
