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Five possible reasons Euphoria and Rivals are popular, all of which are sex

EUPHORIA and Rivals are the biggest shows on TV right now, but why? Here are five potential reasons, all genital-based: 

They contain scenes of a sexual nature

So-called sophisticated viewers spent years pretending they relished the social commentary of The Wire or the corporate satire of Severance, but compared to young A-listers f**king they’re boring old shit. Who cares what Euphoria is about – if anything – when Sydney Sweeney jumps a skipping rope in a swimsuit?

There have sexy people in them

Viewers like to watch sexy people do anything. Even picking out vowels or consonants can be erotically charged when Rachel Riley’s doing it. Shrewd producers have noticed this trend and exploited your human failings for streaming cash. Even your secret lust for unconventional sex object Danny Dyer is catered to, you rampant f**k.

The sexy people have sex with each other

A genius move. Not only do Euphoria and Rivals boast a cast of studs and babes, they all regularly get their kit off and shag. Hopefully the scriptwriters are well renumerated for typing ‘they f**k again’ every other page, because it’s got millions tuning in. No mean feat, considering the endless hours of explicit content available for free online.

The sex is more sexy than regular sex

Even the sight of sexy, sweaty actors pistoning away risks getting boring, but the producers of Euphoria are a step ahead. They’ve conjured a plotline where Sweeney bones a microphone and balloon up into a sexy giantess. Ask your dad if you don’t believe it, he’s conducted extensive research himself after reading about it in the Mail.

Sex is a universal desire that will never go away

Some shows alienate viewers with themes and characters that don’t have broad appeal. Euphoria and Rivals cater to anyone with even a faint trace of a libido, which luckily for them includes everyone. And high-quality production values mean future generations will be just as titillated, like we are by classic 70s productions like Au Pair Girls. 

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Six reasons never to go on a f**king cruise

ALL that positive hantavirus publicity got you thinking of booking a cruise? Before you set sail like a carefree, oceangoing Zack Polanski, consider these reasons not to: 

The passengers

You’re trapped with them. Vacuous, boring bastards in pink polo shirts with wives in their 50s made up to be in their 20s. There’s no escaping the twat who’s immensely proud of setting up the most successful tyre supply business in East Renfrewshire, not on this trip, and keelhauling is sadly outlawed.

The food 

Food is included in the price, or the permanent buffet of shite in the prison-like canteen is. They make it as tasteless as possible to drive you to pay for meals in the very costly restaurants. And if you want a drink? You’ll be ordering it from the barman on every single occasion you need liquid. Yes, there will be a queue.

The entertainment

No entertainer worthy of the name would sign up for three months in a windowless cabin at sea. Plenty of entertainers not worthy of the name will. Given an audience of tossers who believe an Elvis impersonator who can instantly switch to Robbie Williams is astonishing, they will pander to them. Night after night. And you’ll be there because that’s where the gin is.

Seasickness

Seas get rough, and once your lavishly-appointed ship runs into a storm and begins lurching around like a drunken hippo with labyrinthitis everyone will be throwing up. You’ll be confined to your cabin and timing vomiting to when the toilet isn’t slopping water all over the bathroom floor you’re kneeling on.

Viruses

And that’s when the metal container you’re locked in with thousands of strangers doesn’t become an incubator for an exciting new virus, keen to work its magic in this petridish with hot tubs and a climbing wall. All while many, many nautical miles from the nearest hospital. You begin to realise why ghost ships were such a frequent phenomenon.

The stops on land

After what feels like months trapped at sea but has actually been three days, you get the chance to escape. Bliss. Three hours in the most touristy harbours the world has to offer, where every shop is geared to selling you expensive jewellery you won’t notice the flaws of until you’re back on board your floating prison with that twat from the tyre business again.

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