The international party capital of Magaluf has today proposed plans to crack down on street drinking, a tradition bought to the island by English people, with their faces red-raw from either sunburn or shouting; with their bulldog tattoos and their white vests over neon bras; with their knotted condoms full of English jizz bobbing peacefully in the sea.
It is a clampdown that says: "Yeah, try sucking 24 dicks on that." It is a clampdown that says: "I don't care if you paid £299 all-in to be here, you don't get to do a shit on my high street." It is a clampdown that says: "A lot of the people who live here are actually quite sick of getting run over by quad bikes ridden by hench lads with curiously groomed eyebrows." It is a clampdown that says: "Have you heard of Zante? Can you not just fuck off to Zante instead?"
As the Standard reports, town hall chiefs have all sombrely sat down and watched that video from last year of the British girl who briefly blew 24 guys, and gone, "Oh. Bit bad, that, isn't it?" In reaction, they've proposed new laws to allow police to confiscate drinks being consumed in the streets between the hours of 10PM and 8AM if they suspect they might be alcohol.
The proposals – which, if they go ahead, will kick in on the 1st of May, the day the party season truly begins, the day when six really meek boys from Oldbury touch down on the island hoping to lose their fingering virginities – will also target party firms operating on the island, enforcing rules that only allow one 20-person pub crawl per firm per day between the hours of 8PM and midnight. Because there ain't no party like an extremely organised and government-enforced party.
Organisers will also be banned from promoting alcohol consumption and sex games in their literature (presumably meaning most literature will look something like this: "Come to Banana's! We've got Basshunter in here! You remember Basshunter!"), and shops on the strip will be banned from selling alcohol between the hours of midnight and 8AM.
The new rules are subject to approval from the resort's hoteliers, taxi drivers, nightclub owners and police force. However, seeing as, collectively, they probably clean up the most vomit per head in the world right now as a result of the tourist drinking culture, it's likely they'll wave the reform through.
The question, then, is will such street drinking reform tear a little piece of the heart out of Magaluf? Yes: there will still be topless lads hitting each other with flat punches; and girls getting lifted up while squealing; and genitals infused with syphilis; and broken legs and shredded hands; and thin-shouldered sixth formers in polo shirts dribbling thick red Cheeky Vimto-infused saliva down each other; and broken glass and handjobs – but will Magaluf lose some of special sparkle it has? That magic.
If you take away horned up 18-year-olds doing belts of Corky's in the street, what is Magaluf left with? Apart from your uncle, Sudocrem slathered on his pulsing red bald spot, sat in a plastic garden chair and watching a desolate, unsullied high street. Is this what you want? Is that the future you want for your kids?
The Great British tradition of drinking so much in public that you hurt yourself or you hurt a police officer is getting demonised at the moment, much to the detriment of our culture. The Rail Safety and Standards Board (RSSB) recently proposed the banning of drinking on trains, taking the one remaining joy of travelling by train away from us; Edinburgh University this week sparked protests by outlawing the strawpedo, a method of drinking a WKD that makes it taste slightly less like distilled hell by angling it so you can consume it faster.
The underlying message of these proposals is: "Are you a jaded youth? Well, don't try drinking away your misery, you shitshow, because we bureaucrats – we faceless bureaucrats, who never paid student loans and bought houses for £100 in 1960 that are worth millions today – don't like how you youths, with your lithe young bodies and your partying ways, we don't like how you shout and vomit and do a lot of blowjobs with your mouths when you get too much Jagermeister in you. So stop it."
RIP, Magaluf. May you suck 24 dicks, in heaven, to the throbbing pulse of Basshunter, forever.
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