It's about time I did a soap blog, and I can't let the demise of Klever Kitchens pass by without comment. Corrie has been great lately, particularly Peter Barlow's sudden and spectacular fall from grace last week. I liked it when he went starry eyed and said drinking was like 'coming home'. But why did they call that bar 'The Joinery'? Surely it was crying out to be called 'Bar Lows'. No sorry doesn't help, Peter. Leanne, leave him! Get rid.
Gail, I shouldn't worry about David having a party whilst you're away, he had one friend, and that was kebab kid.
Why is Klever Kitchens always pulling that face like his dog's just died? Oh, because he's married to Gail. Why does no one notice that he keeps giving them suicide speeches? When someone starts telling me how they've always cared whatever happens, how much they love me, and to look after myself until I see them again, I immediately search their bag for the Nytol, some opiates or a handgun.
That rich granddad is going to try and squirrel Simon away! Bad man. Ken was right all along. Peter is just skulking round corners smoking fags all episode.
Klever Kitchen's debt collector looks like the late Liam Connor. He's too dishy to be scary. I preferred the debt collector who was chasing Phil Mitchell recently, giving it all 'to wit, Mr Mitchell' and wearing a trenchcoat.
Klever Kitchens admitted he was inspired by 'canoe guy'! Did he read about that on Voggle? Joe, the filth are going to be poring through your internet records! You should have gone to the internet cafe like all the other criminals do. Amateur.
And now an interlude into the pointless doom cloud than is Eastenders. Do you care who killed Archie? Do you REALLY? I care more about Dr Al's friends from Cornwall who wanted to meet Roxy. We never saw any evidence of any such friends, and shortly after, he pootled off in his twatmobile, having never been given a bigger storyline than changing his hairstyle from slick to fringy, and once helping Heather with something boring. Brilliant work, Eastenders scriptwriters, just super.
Talking of brilliant, aren't you enjoying the grim groundhog day quality of the love affair that is Stacey and Bradley? I'm sure you enjoyed the 2 days that they were actually happy in between the dopey girlfriend going back to New Zealand and Stacey revealing she got pregnant by rape. Endless giggles, I'm sure.
DI Marsden listening to Lionel Richie was just inspired. Who writes this stuff? Give them some sort of award, quick!
I like the return of Billy, Bianca's brother, but only because he's played by the same actor. Remember his pre-pubescent androgyny? His afro? What's he been doing all these years in between, that's what I want to know. Peculiarly, he seems to be able to act. Rare for this show, I know.
OMG Sonia! She slipped back in like Sunita in Corrie, like she'd never been gone. Where's Robbie?
Urgh, there's those numpties from that spin off show, which I suffered through for no particular reason. I can never get those braincells back, bruv. Just go away.
Where's Syed??? Where's Christian? How DID Syed get it up in the end, that's what I want to know. I'll give the scriptwriters something; the wedding episodes were top notch. So why do they give us all this shit 3 times a week? Can't they get someone decent to write it at least once a week? Do they really have to only get decent writers in on national holidays?
Hen nights are never something that Eastenders does well. They are listening to Moon Safari by Air! What year is this?! This is the ropiest collection of 'hens' since KFCs farms got raided for cruelty. And that joke was really laboured, I'm sorry, I've had a long day.
That stripper guy is quite fit, but I still want those characters to piss off. Besides, he looks underage.
Bradley said 'you wouldn't let it lie!' I hate Bradley's now! He's leaving, isn't he? Fuck off to Holloway, I mean, Hollywood. Oh, no, I got it right first time... Christ, look at the colour of his face. And his tank top. Give me Max any day of the week.
Hmm, my TV decided not to bother taping the second Corrie. Thanks TV. How I love the ITV catch up player, it's so easy to use! *cough*.
I want to know what's in Klever Kitchen's survival pack! Rubber ring? Tin foil blankee? Fireworks? Honestly, Gail will put up with anything from this dude! She needs to change her taste in men.
Talking of which, Peter Barlow, no one cares when you're down in the gutter! Aw, Simon is SO cute! He almost makes me want to have children. But not really. No wonder that granddad wants to snatch him away. He's probably doing some genetic experiment on him.
What's the bet the nosy neighbours are going to see something they shouldn't? Ah, they did. OMG Klever Kitchens threw her on the floor! What a catch he is! Just let him go, Gail. The man is a menace to society.
Why is Gail still rocking that old Nokia? Is it nostalgia night? Why do they only have phones from 1995 and music from the early 2000s in the soaps tonight? What next, Simon feeding his Tamagotchi whilst listening to Moby?
Ooh, look at the moon! How moving. What next, a 'Gail Force' wind? That's the second husband she's sent to a watery grave. No indie pop hits this time around? I enjoyed the Wannadies as Richard Hillman drove into the canal. They could have dug out some more Moz for Joe. Aw Klever Kitchen's has lost his dinghy. This dude is born to lose. His phone, by contrast, looks quite snazzy. Perhaps he should have took it down cash converters. Oh well, at least we won't have to look at that expression any more. My favourite Klever Kitchen moment was when he smashed up the surgery after listening to The Smiths of course. RIP.
I hate Boyzone dude! He can't act! Get rid of him. I blame him for Peter's demise. Look, he's aiding and abetting sharing a beer with him!
Anyway, we decided the other night that instead of killing off Blanche's character, they should have her send an acerbic postcard every few months, giving us her thoughts on what her family and neighbours have been up to. I'd love to see her thoughts on Peter's latest fuck up. You could even animate it. Now THAT is a spin off show.