Love Island season is officially upon us. For two months every summer, ITV treats us to six nights a week of this reality TV masterpiece and season eight is here at last.
Nothing screams summer more than a bunch of bottle-tanned hotties lusting after one another from across a pool. If I can’t be on holiday in Spain drinking warm sangria from a plastic wine glass, then at least I can watch someone else do it while Iain Stirling commentates.
