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Opinion| Instead of Charlie Radnedge,Antigoni Buxton,Danica Taylor,Remi Lambert,Jay Younger,Jacques O’Neill,Ekin-Su Cülcüloğlu,Afia Tonkmor,Luca Bish,Amber Beckford,Ikenna Ekwonna,Andrew Le Page,Gemma Owen,Davide Sanclimenti,Tasha Ghouri,Liam Llewellyn and Indiyah Polack on ITV's Love Island I want to see sunburnt mums in dressing gowns lighting a roll up

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It’s that time of year again,and no I’m not talking about Glastonbury, or even #hotgirlsummer, I’m talking about Love Island.

Many of my friends, and in previous years my brother, have become very hyped up about the prospect of watching half-wits and Z-listers lounge around a beach getting mirco-drunk.

Much like the Tudors, who couldn’t drink water because it was diseased and undrinkable, those living in the 16th century survived on ale and wine, perpetually micro-drunk. Tudors and Love Islanders have even more in common than you think.

Woman on beach Photo by Apostolos Vamvouras (57589289)
Woman on beach Photo by Apostolos Vamvouras (57589289)

Firstly, they are all tactically sleeping together and secondly - the use of the English language doesn’t resemble the one we use in the real world- where sentences are a bit more developed.

Before you judge, I’m not a reality TV snob. Back in the soft-focused days of Jeremy Kyle I was glued to the screen, fisting a tube of Sour Cream Pringles. I love the Kardashians, although I draw the line at buying a lip kit. Selling Sunset I completely get. Real estate and fashion? Two things I have neither of (can't, a girl dream?).

But Love Island, as much as I try, I do not understand. I know a woman in her 80’s who watches it religiously and it’s always trending on Twitter. It’s less Casa Amor and more Casa A-Bore.

Of course, I don’t have to moan about it, nor do I have to feel depressed when Indiyah Polack appears on my timeline.

I must say though, I can’t exactly feel enthusiastic about the same show that made Molly-Mae Hague famous, the same Pretty Little Thing “Ambassador” that did little to hide her ignorant disdain for the impoverished.

Molly now earns roughly £400K a week (more than any brain surgeon I know) after her little stint on the Island, for doing little more than looking cute in a labia skimming bikini.

So I came up with a concept, one that I hope others will get on board with. Mum Island.

Sounds about as lame as Marge Simpson waving a “cool dude” flag at Bart’s baseball game but hear me out.

Gemma drags herself out of the villa, hungover in a Mrs Hinch Tesco dressing gown, burnt as a lobster trying to light up a roll up.

Josie, single mum of four, who has ambitions to be a dentist- argues with Holly who has breastfed her darkly strange kid until the age of four. The pair, after one too many vinos argue if Billy Bear ham is a valid form of nutrition.

The kids don’t have access to sweets, there are no iPads and the coffee runs out.

Most importantly, I want to see bodies that are covered in stretch marks, messy buns, cellulite and the breasts bob like udders in the ocean. Oh and someone has visible shaving rash or heaven forbid, a full bush.

I want to see Sally the gossip trip up on a crab, Jane get sozzled and wee herself in front of her kid and reveal that she never loved her husband anyway.

The only six pack in sight will be one of peroni, or pepsi max.

I’m bored of homogeneous faces, bodies and lips. Why aren’t you?

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