Fat Brenda's Cream Horn!

Hiya loveys!

Roy told me he's after some organic vegetables, I said to him, “Get to Freshco, buy the cheapest ones and rub a bit of mud on ‘em!” but you know what he’s like, loveys, “That would be dishonest, Brenda; organic is more than ‘a bit of mud’, it’s an environmental issue; a health issue; it’s supporting local business…”

dirty carrot an' that!

“Roy love, I’ve only come in here for me usual," I said. "I’m not after a conser-flamin’-vation conversation! You can’t be into the environment and smoke as much as I do! I’m like a one woman polluting machine! I’m like a factory spewing out smoke into the atmos! If Lowry was still alive, he’d paint me on the horizon, all distant like, chugging away at a Dunhill while matchstick folk wandered about all ashen and grey an’ that, coughing from’t fumes! Now where’s me flamin’ cream horn!?”

Don’t get me wrong loveys, I adore Roy, he’s like an artist; a sculptor, buttering his baps with the same level of care and passion Michelangelo gave to David’s dangly bits! I don’t mean David Platt’s dangly bits - perish the thought! - I mean that statue of David what fellas see and scoff at, as if they’ve got more to offer a lass... they haven’t! Most fellas round here have got a fat belly full of Newton and Ridley’s and Prima Donner kebabs but that David, he's proper buff!

Phwoar!

Talking of David Platt, that Callum’s hanging round here in his white car thinking he’s God’s flamin’ gift! He came in the cab office and was giving it all, “Eeyar Brenda love, how’s about you and me go out one night?”

He must think I was born yesterday! I know what fellas like him want a lass like me for; he wants me to be one of them druggy horse donkey mule things that you read about what get sent abroad with a half kilo of funny white powder strapped to their gusset! 

I said to him, “Callum love, I was snorting Olbas Oil when you were still in short trousers and then I progressed onto the harder stuff, Vicks an’ that! I’ve seen what decongestant sprays can do to folk; they ruin lives! You might think yer all that with yer gorgeous physique and yer stubble like a young George Michael on’t cover of 1987’s Faith LP, but yer nowt; nowt but a pair of tight trousers and Weathy market knock-off trainers! You might think yer Max’s dad lovey but let’s be honest, that Kylie’s had more fellas than Nick Tilsley's had faces and just 'cos she says Max is yours dun’t mean he actually is! I’d get you to do a DNA test to prove it but I don’t know whether they do paternity tests for pond-life like you!”

He seemed a bit upset at that point, “… Can I just order a cab then please, Brenda?”

“Sorry about that Callum love,” I said, “I’m having a few problems with me waterworks at the moment and it’s putting me in a bit of a bad mood!”

“Oh aye, is that why yer always taking the pi-?”

“Right! That’s enough now lovey!” I snapped.

Manly stubble like what Callum's got an' that!

As usual, things aren’t good in’t cab office. Steve is still poorly and so is Michael and Eileen flamin’ Grimshaw is pulling pints at the Rovers! I say pulling pints but to be honest loveys, she’s flamin’ murdering ‘em! What she’s doing behind a bar I don’t know! She’s a face that could sour milk stout! So I’m here every hour that god sends covering her, Steve and Michael and I’ve problems of me own! I’ve joined a choir, had me moped nicked, had family up in court and that’s on top of me New Year’s resolution to learn how to play the harmonica – I’m always tempted to say mouth organ but the last time I said that, Liz McDonald said it sounds a bit rude… 

The big news in Weatherfield is the arrival of Jenny Bradley! It’s a testament to the community that we welcome folk of all ethnicities and the diversity to the area that another ginger brings is always a positive thing… Unless yer Rita! She’s worried that her flame-haired crown is gonna be taken by another - like that evil queen from that Snowy White she stands in front of the B&Q mirror Dennis put up for her and says, “Mirror Mirror on’t flamin’ wall, who’s the flamin’ gingerist of ‘em flamin’ all?” and the mirror always used to reply, “It’s you innit Reets – obvs!” That is until last week when the area’s favourite grease monkey, Kevin Webster, brought Jenny back onto the cobbles. Now the Mirror’s all, “Soz Reets, that Jenny’s back and I have to say she's looking belting!”

£9.99 from B&Q but it does have a bit of an attitude problem!

Well, Rita was furious and started going on about all the money Jenny’s had an’ that and how her dad tried to kill her before he was run over by that slow moving tram that hit him at four miles an hour! The last time I saw Rita she was dressed as an evil witch and brandishing a poisoned apple – I think it was poisoned anyway, it was from Dev’s and the quality of his fruit is always questionable! Either that or she got Norris (or Nasty, to give him his Seven Dwarves name) to spit venom at it!

I remember Jenny from way back when she worked as a papergirl at the Kabin. She used to deliver me magazine to Balaclava Terrace in the eighties and I knew she was a bad ‘un cos me Bella was always well thumbed by the time it got to me and she’d be reeking of the free Yardley Lace sample that was always mysteriously missing!

It’s nice to see that in a kind of preemptive strike, Michael has faced death BEFORE marrying Gail to try and break the curse that befalls any man who allows her to accept his ring. They're busy writing their vows now; I suggested shouting "DEAD MAN WALKING!" during the ceremony but he said it wan't appropriate or summat!

Anyhow, I’m going now cos I’ve heard there’s another Gavin knocking about and if he looks owt like the Gavin in’t Bistro I’m getting me name down first – he’s hotter than an electrical good from Barlow’s Buys that one!

If you want to tweeter me then I’m always on me hi-phone in Streetcars so say hello – here’s the linky! @fatbrenda

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