Praise be to the gods of trashy TV.
Love Island is nearly here.
I can almost smell the mango daiquiris… and the drama… and the fake tan.
You see, a few weeks ago Bachelor In Paradise ended.
After five weeks of watching people drinking mango daiquiris and havin’ a chat on TV, we were left high and dry.
All the bachie alums went back to their very important jobs as Instagram influencers and people who visit Bali, and we were left with a Bach In Paradise-shaped hole in our lives that not even Jarrod’s pot plant could fill.
But now something glorious is about to happen.