Honestly, at this point in the Love Island cycle, really, if we're going to be true to ourselves, we might as well just lean into it now and go hell for leather.
Luckily, the options for appearance were limited, so I avoided having to face up to the fact that I will never have perfect teeth, luscious hair or an adorable dimple when I smile. At this point I was prompted to enter my name. Rather than going down the responsible route and using my legitimate name, I foresaw the potential for humorous interactions later in the game.
and all who inhabit it, obviously I told my new friend Lottie that I was a social media influencer, which wasn't technically a lie because one time I uploaded an Instagram post that got 52 likes and also Zayn Malik once liked then immediately unliked a tweet of mine for just long enough that I got the notification.
I quickly learned that Lottie was full of shit and Hannah needed her split ends eradicated as soon as possible. I prayed that a hairdresser would enter the equation. Ibrahim was Mr June in this year's Men of Golf calendar, which was lowkey quite impressive, but then he said this... It was then time for the other girls to pick their guys, which all went smoothly until Hope entered the hunger games arena.
At this point the game tried to trick me into paying money to speak to Bobby privately. Unlucky for them, I didn't want to chat to a guy that wears metallic purple shorts, so quickly refused the option.
It transpired that we would be playing a game of truth or dare now, which is always an excellent idea after three sips of champagne with a group of horny strangers.
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