It almost feels like it's trying to be a spoof of it's former self; which in turn was a spoof of what REAL LIFE is like for the vast majority of people in their late teens.
For a start, I've been to that part of Bristol, it's the nice part just out from the city centre, full of grand old buildings, lovely boutique shops and crucially, the closest Fopp to my house.
Of all of the occasions I have walked up that street, NOT ONCE have I seen a seventeen year old smoking a spliff at an outdoor diner, whilst the remainder of the population of Bristol continue idly as if that's normal. (At this point the viewer is clearly thinking "OH MA DAYYZZZ, DRUGZ!! DAT IS SOO RANDOMZZ!! ROFFLE!!!1ONE")
To add to the sheer normality of the situation, HARRY ENFIELD has just had a car crash and is being a bit of a twat to an old lady. Harry Enfield's daughter then decides it best to stay in the car (which I remind you: HAS BEEN CRASHED) whilst staring at the annoyingly good looking, no-doubt lad-rock-loving (judging from his pretty cool trilby) twat whose skateboarding "antics" opened the show (he caused two car crashes in the first 30 seconds of the show. But then casual road accidents are the new happy-slapping...or something), the aforementioned idiot who is smoking a spliff and drinking lager at 8AM, and the obligatory geek character who is so overly geeky and seems to be able to relate everything to maths and science that he is painfully and blatantly supposed to be the character that everyone feels sorry for because he'll be the one who stays single throughout, but will eventually get laid by the girl he's been obsessed with all series at a wild party in a barn in the Somerset countryside, whilst Foals play in the background.
If you don't know what I'm on about, then you can watch the video here on youtube.
In essence, series three of Skins almost presents itself as Channel 4's attempt to be the sex awareness school councillor who addresses a year 11 class and actually uses the term "innit", in a bid to relate to the kids. It is the televisual equivalent of the cringeworthy attempts by any white, middle-aged, balding teacher to convey the topic of today's assembly through the medium of "a rap".
In short, it's just a patronising distortion of what real life is like for those in their late teens.
(Picture: Just a regular night out for the regular 18 year old in regular old South Gloucestershire. Blimey, I can't tell you how many nights out I've had where things have ended up exactly like that!)