Never has a picture so accurately summed-up the caliber of trash you get in Ibiza. The Board of Tourism should seriously consider changing their slogan from whatever it is now (which I’m guessing is either “What Happens in Ibiza Stays Itchy Till You Get It Treated” or “Ibiza: It’s Terrible”) to “Ibiza is for Trash Lovers”, and they can use this picture of Justin Bieber on his way to dinner last night. Yes, this is what Justin Bieber wore to dinner, and no, dinner wasn’t served in a shady club off a $10 hooker’s ass (Kim Kardashian was already booked for the night).
But back to Justin’s ass (five words I hope to never, ever type again for the rest of my life). Justin probably saw those pictures of his ex-girlfriend with her boneless skinless chicken breasts falling out of a pair of cut-offs and gotten jealous (“Two can play at this game, bitch!”), because why else would he show up to dinner with his panty-draped booty balls on full display? And why did I all of a sudden get a craving for Hopi grey squash?
And normally that vain little bitch would be more than excited to show off a face full of expertly-applied foundation and bat those little Diorshow-covered eyelashes, but for some reason he arrived with a a towel covering his pretty visage. I bet it was to make sure all eyes were on his ass. Look at the little guy – so proud that he was able to go all day without making a doody in his big boy pants. Okay, we all saw Justin; you can pull up your pants now.