Fat Brenda's Cream Horn

I tell you what, that Fay(e) is belting at babysitting in’t she?! Bless her, she even emptied the bin for ‘em and what did she get for her flamin’ trouble? Owen shouting at her, again! Flamin’ hell, it’s not her fault! We’ve all done it haven’t we loveys? We’ve all babysat for a lickle baby and popped a couple of slices of Warbys and cheese under the grill and then gone outside and then had a door blow shut and then had the cheese on toast burn and then had to get a psychotic builder, who happens be the baby’s granddad, to break down the front door. Who hasn’t done that? Loveys? Who can honestly say that’s never happened to ‘em, loveys? Loveys?!

Nowt runs smoothly in Weatherfield does it, not babysitting and especially NOT love. Tommy and Tina are destined to be together according to Stella and that’s based on her experience of having once succumbed to the sexual advances of Les Battersby and her undeniably belting track record of bringing up her own kids! I mean, you only have to look at Eva dressing like a knickerbocker glory when she's off with Nick for her birthday to see that! I asked Stella's advice on the best way to stop sticking me nose into everyone’s flamin’ business but funnily enough she didn’t have any!

"Oh Dear, What can the matter be,

Stella slept with Les flamin' Battersby,

Giving advice from Monday to Saturday

It really gets on me wick!"

Anyhow, Tina has now discovered she likes Tommy after suddenly finding out he was the only fella she hadn’t had a fling with (apart from Tyrone, the doormat in overalls, and Kirk, the village wassock!)

David Cameron and his message on binge drinking really hit home with Audrey and Gail who decided that enough was enough and bravely decided to give up alcohol for half an hour! Having said that, their training for the 2012 Olympics - where they’re competing in the cross-country stumble – is going really well!

They’re not the only local competitors, Deirdre is representing Britain in boxing, Lewis is for the highjump and Owen, Chesney, Anna and Fay(e) or Team CB (Chesney Brown) are competing in the five hundred metre baby relay race!

"And Owen's off! He's making good ground and he's ready to pass the baby to... Anna! And off she goes! Considering she's in no way related to the baby (WHATSOEVER!!) she's really taking charge of this race. And it's Chesney... Chesney... going for the baby... going for it... And he's not managed to grab it! The dream is over for Team CB!"

Talking of Joseph, the baton baby, he’s not the only biblical flamin’ birth (he was born in a manger remember, loveys). Now we’ve got the Immaculate Conception – Julie and Brian’s miracle baby! Brian - the chip eating baby-making machine whose tied tubes did repaireth ‘emselves within his Ethel Austin briefs - has begat a flamin’ child! Will it be the saviour of mankind? Nah! The three wise men – Ken, Karl and Doctor Carter will lavish the child with gifts of H Samuel gold, Frank’s incensed and myrrh (whatever the flamin’ hell that is). But lo, there is ALWAYS room at the flamin’ inn which is good cos Steve needs somewhere to shower 'cos a flannel wash in't doing the trick! Honestly loveys, that chair in the cab office hums when he's been sat in it!

It’s nice to hear, from a conker coloured David and Kylie, that Becky’s loving being with that virtual stranger who’s entrusted his only child to an alcoholic, violent ex jailbird like her! To be honest, loveys, I don’t know how they afforded the excess at the airport what with all Becky’s emotional baggage! How did they fit it all into the flamin' hold! Still, it’s nice for her though in’t it?

Talking of airports, Milton came into the cab office for a taxi to carry him and Sylvia to their new life. What a lovely fella he is! He kept calling me Slanket and slippers ‘Quaint’ and said he wanted to franchise me out so that every street in the world would one day have their own Brenda! Oh loveys, imagine that! Belting!

And now me new section:

Tweeter Poetry What I've Written When I'm Bored In't Cab Office

Carla Connor,
Hair like tar.
Knocked Stella over,
In Frank's car!
In love with Liam,
Then with Peter.
Drinks red wine,
By the flamin' litre.

Anyone who follows me on tweeter will probably have read that lovely poem but if you don't then you haven't... unless yer one of them that's copied it onto one of them message boards and not credited ME! YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!

Flipping! Beating! Mixing! Stirring! It's not a description of Weatherfield loveys, it's pancake Tuesday! Have a good ‘un and deep fill one for me!

Bye!

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