I’ve just got back from seeing Michael at the hospital and I have to say, I think he’s doing pretty well for someone who’s married to Gail – cos he’s still alive!
“She kept me from saying goodbye to my son, Brenda” he whined.
“Oh Michael,” I said. “At least you’ve not been stabbed outside a nightclub or driven into a canal or tried to fake yer own death and actually died! And as for poor Martin, well he came off worse…”
“I thought he moved to Liverpool, Brenda,” he said.
“He did lovey, and if that wan’t bad enough, he’s now living in Warrington – it’s a fate worse than death is that!”
Mind you, after what Michael told me, I’m not surprised he had a heart attack; imagine Eileen trying to tear yer clothes off! I’ve seen the wild-eyed look she has when she tears the wrapper off a Kit-Kat let alone a fella and it in’t for the flamin’ faint-hearted I can tell you!
|four fingers of fun!|
Kylie’s back and I have to say she’s looking very well for someone who’s been in a drugged up stupor for three months and lived on the streets of London wi’ nowt but a manky old Costa coffee cup full of five pees, coppers and broken dreams!
Talking of sleeping rough, poor Maddie’s gone to the great soup kitchen in the sky – poor lass. Sophie’s going round with a face like a wet weekend in Blackpool but I told her, “God moves in mysterious ways lovey, only the good die young and he probably wanted some knickers packing or his car cleaned so he took Maddie to heaven and one day when he needs a petulant lass to work in his shop he’ll take you an’ all!”
It didn’t help though, you can’t flamin’ help some folk!
|"I'm flamin' Melanie!"|
|Tyrone out of his overalls!|
“Oh hello, I’d like to book a taxi for thirteen Coronation Street please.”
“Yes Jenny, where are you going to, lovey?”
“No, it’s Melanie.”
“What’s Melony? Are you eating a sorbet or summat, Jenny?”
“No, me name’s Melanie.”
“Ok then Melanie, Where are you going to, Jenny?”
“Melanie? I’ve never heard of that, is it in Hale Barnes?”
“No, I told you, me name’s Melanie.”
“Oh, sorry Jenny. Where do you want to go, Melanie?”
“To the train station please, Brenda.”
“How do you know me name’s Brenda, Melanie?”
“Your name’s Brenda Melanie?”
“No, Jenny love, how does Melanie know me name?”
“Look Jenny, stop playing silly beggars, do you want this taxi or not? Hello? Hello?”
She flamin’ hung up on me! I tell you loveys, she’s not right that one!
I had that Todd in here the other day, gloating over the way he set his mam up by pretending to be someone from Dubai on a dating site! He was looking so pleased with himself that I thought it was probably the best time to tell him that I’d been doing the same to him for the past fortnight on Grindr!
“What..? You’re Rocco from Rosamund Street?” he gasped.
“Yes Todd I am! I’m flamin’ Rocco!”
“But I told you all about my… fantasies…”
“Yes you did Todd! You told me all about yer weird He-Man fetish! I have the flamin’ power an’ all that! Wearing yer undies and that blond wig you fashioned from one of Liz McDonald’s extension pieces! You flamin’ weirdo!”
“Ooooh but me scar on me face an’ all that!” he cried.
“What flamin’ scar!? Do you mean that tiny mark on yer face that looks like it’s been caused by a sudden rush of air from the gentle flapping of a chaffinch’s wing? There’s nowt flamin’ there! I’ve seen a paper cut leave a bigger scar than that!”
|Todd's Grindr profile picture!|
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