Why did nobody tell me that Dev had CCTV? I can only hope that after seeing Becky nicking that money he won't pay attention to the missing crisps, you never know with that man. It must be like one of them black-box recorders you get on planes that can survive explosions and crashes. Flamin' hell, I only have to look at me Sky+ box in the wrong way and it doesn't tape Trisha. Dev's recording equipment must be nuclear proof!
So, it's been a week since the street was changed forever loveys and I must say, it's been a bumpy ride. Kevin went headfirst into an open grave and lay with Molly for the last time, Tyrone learned how to work something out for himself without any help from anyone (bless him), Peter's damaged his spine and married a swine and according to Norris there is a murderer stalking the streets of Weatherfield... Nick!
Ashley's funeral was very upsetting - what? You didn't go? Ooh it was a belting service - the buffet at The Rovers afterwards was nice an' all. Molly's buffet? Not so good. It was ruined by Kevin putting folk off their cocktail sausages by dropping the bombshell that he was Jack's father! I always suspected as much when I saw baby Jack had already begun growing a moustache like Kevin had when he was baby.
To be honest loveys I'm getting a bit sick of all the 'pulling together' that folk have been going on about. Everyone's been talking in that whispery Gail voice - you know the one; she blinks a lot and says summat really quietly, usually about how she loves some nutter or other. Rita's been doing it all week. She's been up of a morning smearing her face with Avon rouge to make her injuries look worse that they are and spending the day whispering at folk. I love Rita, she always gives me a tab for me ciggies but speak at full volume for flamin' hell's sake!
As Cliff sang in 'Mistletoe and Wine', Christmas is 'a time for forgiving and for forgetting'. I don't think that applies to Sally and the girls. Kevin won't be lolling around on that sofa of his for a long time to come and as for his friendship with Tyrone, forget it! The last I saw of him he was sleeping on that bench outside Audrey's salon in his funeral suit. I could see his patent black leather shoes sticking out from under the Weatherfield Gazette he'd used as a blanket. He even had the cheek to ask if he could sleep in the cab office but it's against health and safety to have a dog on the premises!
We're all gearing up for Christmas now and I can only hope that the heartbreak of the past week means we'll enjoy the festive season but d'yer know what loveys? I flamin' doubt it!
If you want to tweeter me click on this thing, it's called a link or summat.
I'm going back to me copy of Hello now so I can draw fake glasses and a moustache on Kate Middleton to make me feel better about meself!
Look out for Fat Brenda's Deep Filled Mince Pie, coming soon....