World's Shittest Banter Merchants Go On Holiday


Written by Jack Blocker
28 Tuesday 28th April 2015

What's the most mental night out you've ever had?

Was it the time you sank three fishbowls at a full moon party in Thailand and woke up on the beach all covered in sand? And then you didn't even Skype your mum the next day, because picturing her watching for your little tick to turn green filled you with titillating pangs of danger?

Or maybe it was the night where the pills hit just as you favourite song dropped on the sunniest Notting Hill Carnival in years.

Or was it when you abducted that busload of tourists and murdered them in the woods? Before you dismembered their bodies and burned them in tires for 15 hours?!

Well if it was similar to any of these, then you are literally as dull as a hemophiliac prince trapped in a padded room, because these absolute banter merchants from the West Midlands have just put us all to shame! After a night out in their hometown of Stourbridge, they ended up waking up in Malaga. In Spain. Mental!

The story was so extravagant that it was reported in the Mirror, the Metro, The Lad Bible and the Daily Mail. So what happened? What limits did the lads go to to end up at their unplanned destination? What cocktails were mixed, what drugs were ingested and what bumholes were fingered during this downward spiral of indecency? Well, as it turns out, the lads had a few beers, popped home for their passports, then caught an early flight to Malaga.

"It sort of escalated," said level 9 sociopath Matt Weyman to the Mirror.

"We caught a taxi to each of our houses and grabbed our own passports, waking up our parents. Before we knew it we had paid £60 on a taxi and were queuing up to catch a flight to Spain – wearing jumpers."

Fucking hell Matt. You live with your parents and quote Anchorman? I hope you've got a good lawyer or you'll be sent to Bantamo Bay. Unreal move!

I do wonder how someone sees this story and deems it worthy of public recognition. These guys look like they watch Dave and consider a joint as transgressive as an 8-ball during a court hearing. If returning to your mum's house to collect your passport is now considered hedonism then our society really needs to promptly discuss how we got so fucking boring. I'm not exactly Ken Kesey, but I'm pretty sure I've had Tuesday nights wilder than a few beers and a flight to Spain - and I didn't even have to leave the country.

Although I feel drastically unqaulified to opine on sociological developments, I'm blaming the promotion of this story on the paradoxical effect of YOLO culture. The term is now so universal that it's applied to almost anything, from Skydiving to spending £3 on an Innocent smoothie. Even a stunt as pedestrian as Matt and his mates' is comparative to slamming heroin in a police kettle if it's portrayed as being off the cuff.

I hope the guys still in Spain make it home alive. I heard Carling and sunstroke can kill.
