HAVE all your friends returned from Turkey with chronic conditions after botched operations, and you’re jealous? Pop over for one of these procedures:
Hair transplant, £1,599
Concerned about your thinning hair? Worried that women, especially those of the 21-35 category who can afford to be picky, will reject you? How much more confident will you feel when your scalp’s polka-dotted with scars and boasting multiple cysts? Also your hairline’s uneven because the surgeon’s dog jogged his arm when he was drawing it.
Brazilian butt-lift, £2,399
Life without that big ass that became fashionable in the last 15 years is barely life at all. Dreaming of being able to knock over vases with your bulbous butt, you book in for the flight, joking you’ll need two seats for the journey home. In fact you can’t sit down because it’s horribly septic. Six weeks in an good old-fashioned British hospital having pus drained and it’s back to flat.
Tummy tuck, £2,499
Overweight, but the GP won’t give you Ozempic because you haven’t yet got Type 2 diabetes despite a lifetime of trying? The only way to get a more flattering silhouette without lifting a finger is to turn to Turkey, the surgery paradise, even though you voted Brexit in fear Turkey might join the EU. This decision goes as well as that one did.
Labiaplasty, £1,999
If you believe your labia are in a state only a scalpel can fix nobody’s going to argue with you, much less ask for a look. But do you really trust Istanbul to do right down there? If they make your apparently dire labial situation even worse, will you fly back and complain?
Veneers, £1,950
When you need the dazzling lemon-fresh piano-key look and can’t afford fancy British dentists, with their money-grubbing focus on ‘aftercare’ and ‘sterilising equipment’, then fly free. You’ll certainly come home with a whole lot of shit glued to your teeth. They will not let you down in that regard.
Penis enlargement, price on enquiry
Ah, the ultimate dream. Swaggering onto that Ryanair home with a good extra couple of kilos in your hand luggage. The proud stamp of ‘Made in Marmaris’ at the base of your clublike member. Stories of this op being botched never appear in the tabloids, because the men who’ve lost their cocks to vanity never speak to anyone ever again.
