It’s that special time of year when everyone seems to go on holiday and then spend the entire time posting Facebook updates about it.

Why don’t you just stick a twenty-foot flashing sign outside your house saying, ‘No fucker is home. Case this joint.’ with a Facebook Live of the neon spectacular for the benefit of every organised crime gang in a 50-mile radius?

Crime aside, why the fuck do you think that we all want to see a photo of your feet with the beach in the background?

‘… aaaaaand relax’ you say? How can I maintain a cool head when you post this incessant cocktail-laden shite with hashtags like #lifegoals?

If your goal in life is to make every one of your Facebook contacts launch their smartphone into the nearest brick wall whenever you publish this garbage then mission accomplished.

The really sad fact is that it’s not just the holiday either:

  • Four weeks until I go on holiday – with wanky countdown graphic
  • Three weeks until I go on holiday – with wanky countdown graphic
  • Two week until I go on holiday – with wanky countdown graphic
  • One week until I go on holiday – with wanky countdown graphicfifty friends have ‘muted’ you by this point or mentally pictured launching you into space
  • One day until I go on holiday – with wanky countdown graphicmajority of friends list hoping that your Boeing 777 plunges into the Atlantic
  • I’M AT THE AIRPORT – with photos of some Wetherspoons dog piss and a fry up
  • I’M GETTING ON THE PLANE – please shut the fuck up
  • I’M ON THE PLANE NOW – oh shit it’s one of those ones with the onboard wi-fi
  • I’ve just got to the hotel – ah great, I’ve never seen a fucking photo of a suitcase on a bed before
  • <<various beach feet photos>>

Once they finally get back to the United Kingdom, and deep down you are devastated that they weren’t imprisoned and anally violated by some sado-masochistic Turkish customs officer, you might be forgiven for thinking that this will be the end of this holiday-related fuckery. Wrong.

  • OMG I can’t believe this was one week ago – with photo of err … how about some beach feet?
  • OMG I can’t believe this was two weeks ago – with photo of some poor local bastard that sold you some overpriced fake crystals for ten Euros, making you feel like you were carrying out some sort of massive humanitarian act
  • OMG I can’t believe this was three weeks ago – really Susan, you never mentioned that you were on holiday, how very unexpected and new this is to me.
  • OMG I can’t believe this was three months ago – with an inspirational quote chucked in, because let’s fact it you weren’t enough of an attention-seeking, vaguebooking c*nt already.
  • OMG I can’t believe this was six months ago – if you can’t believe it, maybe you have amnesia, or maybe I wish that I could have it.
  • Four weeks until I go on hol … Oh that’s right. I forgot. You decided to forego having children until your late thirties and dedicate your life to travelling the world, drinking alcohol artistically, watching Friends box sets on a never ending loop, living with your parents while being on a full-time income and then bragging to the universe about how you managed to buy a house ‘all by yourself.’

The really sad thing is that any burglar who takes advantage of your social media naivety will probably run out of your house screaming as soon as he sees the giant fucking ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ wall art in your living room.