Car Disco | Ifs and Butts | Ibiza Blog

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    Car Disco

    It’s not living next to Ushuaia, opposite Space or having planes pass
    50ft overhead that’s keeping me up at night. Nor is it the tractor going
    up and down Playa d’en Bossa beach dragging the sand, the little bas**rd
    mozzy in my bedroom or the fact that as I write this I am in bed alone
    at 4am, bemoaning my lack of success on national threesome day. What’s
    causing my absence of somnambulistic activity is the f***ing dickheads
    in the nearby car park playing shitty loud music from their Opel Corsa,
    sitting on foldaway chairs even a fisherman wouldn’t be seen dead on,
    drinking warm supermarket lager, whooping and hugging each other like
    they’re in DC10. Not a cool thing to do when you’re 18 never mind doing
    it in your 30s/40s with the kind of self-satisfied smugness usually
    reserved for the more expensive table in Pacha. You aren’t in a club,
    you’re on the street next to a car that should have been crushed years
    ago so get a life you ridiculous, retard, inbred c**ts!

    Where’s an air rifle when you need one? Actually f**k it – make that a
    sawn off…