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A load of Turkish Delight…

May 31, 2006

God Eastenders is shite at the moment. I mean really mind-numblingly, eye-tearingly, claw-your-cheeks shite. It’s so shite that just watching it has started making me feel like I’ve taken a weird trip. Last night, watching Pauline Fowler in her kitchen with Mawtin, I feel all dizzy and fuzzy and she seemed to give off this strange orange glow. Oh, no. That’s just her perma tan.

I don’t even care about these people anymore. The vaguely interesting storyline of Grawnt and Jane has gone downhill thanks to the arrival of Carla. Now Carla herself is OK I suppose. It’s a shame she can’t get her mouth around the Enders scriptwriters’ words (they should be writing to suit her accent, using words she as a Brazilian would use. Instead she sounds clunky and sometimes you can’t even understand what she’s saying). And why the hell would she be with Grawnt, eh? And I think the actress is starting to wonder why herself…

In last night’s bed scene, she visibly flinched before she had to twirl her hand thru Grawnt’s oh-so-manly chest bush. Poor girl, if I had to play with those man boobs, I think I’d look like I wanted to vom too.

Elsewhere and Sonia’s doing more tearful gurning on Arthur’s bench after finding herself homeless; Denise is upset with Mr Parklife for apparently looking at a naughty shot of Chelsea (which is actually a hilaaaaaaarious mix up because *heh heh* Darren Miller and Squiggle – yes, Squiggle, that’s her name apparently – have *ha ha* doctored her picture in Photoshop and have *gerphaw* made prozzie flyers…); Honey and Billy had their hen/stag dos; and Pauline didn’t want to go and see her loft conversion…

slaps self
I DON’T CARE!

PS. What happened to the Millers? I mean, Darren’s still around, so where are the others eh? Maybe someone should call social services…

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