How to describe it? Bridget Jones's fat girl angst meets a Moll Flanders romp through the fleshpots of Barcelona. There's lots of flesh and most of the characters are completely potty. And throw in a pinch of Becky Sharp to get a feel for the scheming amorality of it all. The only blameless character is Juegita, the dog, and even she managed to get up the duff somehow.
I never found out what Lisa and Lauren really thought; we never talked about it, ever. But they blamed me, I know they did. I was the one wearing a skirt too short for a fat girl. I was the one who skulked home to wriggle out of the wet skirt and finish off the Doritos.