REALITY:
You’re thinking you might have a torrid affair with a hot snowboard instructor or perhaps be wooed by a Russian oligarch with four gold helicopters. Forget it. You’ll only be shagging other stoned, smelly, skint seasonaires like yourself. Usually in skanky, shared accommodation with no light bulbs under a duvet that smells like feet. Take some condoms. Or antibiotics. Or both. I myself fell for a fusty, red-eyed type with his arse hanging out of his jeans. He’s now my long term squeeze. So think on.
