Fat Brenda's Cream Horn

Hello loveys!

Me punter hatch an' that!

This cab office is a bit like a confession booth; folk come in, slide open me punter hatch and tell me all their problems hoping to be absolved with a chocolate Hob-Nob and a mug of Mellow Birds. This week I’ve had Billy in, he’s having a right nightmare trying to balance his love of Sean and Jesus an’ that.

“I don’t know what to do Brenda, I’ve lied to the bishop and to God an’ all that…”

“Oh Billy,” I said, “God dun’t care if you love a fella or a lass! If god din’t like the gays he wouldn’t have invented George Michael – everyone loves George flamin’ Michael!”

God bless the gays an' that!

“What should I do Brenda?” he wept.

“You go back to that bishop and you tell him that this world is full of misery and hatred and the only thing we’ve got to combat that is love and compassion and understanding! You tell him that we’re all created equal; gay; straight; black; white; it dun’t matter! The only thing that matters is that we do right by folk, that we take a stand for what we believe in and hope that in putting our head above the parapet and challenging convention we can try and show a fraction of the bravery our lord Jesus Christ displayed…”

“You’re right Bren… You’re only flamin’ right…”

“… Or you could just lie and tell him that you and Sean have split up?”

“Yeah, I’ll probably do that” he said.

“Belting!” I replied, now on yer way, I’ve a queue out there. “Next!”

“Forgive me Brenda, for I have sinned…”

“Oh, what’ve you done now, Jenny..? Tell you what, Jenny love, don’t worry about it, just go and hit Maria in’t face, that’s what I do when I’m feeling depressed, it’s a proper stress reliever! ”

She’s off her rocker that Jenny! I was having a Dunhill outside the cab office and little Jack came over asking what I was doing. “I’m smoking lovey” I said, “Here, have a go if you like?” Cos I was always brought up to be generous and to share an’ that!

Jenny comes round the corner just as I’m showing Jack the best way to inhale so you don’t waste any!

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING, BRENDA!?”

“Oh give it a rest, Jenny” I said, “I’m just showing the lad how to smoke!”

Anyhow, that was it, she flamin’ flew at me, all arms and legs flailing trying to hit me an’ that! So, quick as a flash I picked up Jack and used him as a human shield! Oh loveys, the effect was immediate! It was like putting a cage cover over an angry ginger budgie; she just stopped! So there we were in a Mexican standoff, Jack still with his Dunhill in his mouth held aloft by me, and Jenny just itching to lamp me one.

“Jenny,” I said sternly, “I want you to lower yer fists and walk five steps backwards.”

She was angry but she knew I wasn’t bluffing, I’d hold that kid up in front of me face all day if necessary – beauty like mine needs to be protected! So back she went, “Catch!” I shouted and I pulled out the ciggie out of his gob like a pin from a hand grenade and lobbed Jack at her before scurrying back into the cab office and bolting the door!

A lot of folk think Jack was named after our greatly missed Jack Duckworth but he’s actually named after Kevin and Tyrone’s favourite piece of garage equipment!

I’m sick of that Callum skulking round pulling his facial expressions at all and sundry! He’s a leerer, leering all over the flamin’ place, leer there and everyflamin’where! And as for that Macca that he knocks about with, I used to babysit him when he was a nipper! Oh loveys, Macca is a lovely lad! He’s actually very sensitive when you get to know him. And as for that Gemma, she’s actually the administrator for the Weatherfield WI! They just pretend to be drug dealing types cos they’re writing a play about inner city squalor to perform at local schools in an attempt to try and teach children how to avoid a life of crime. Macca plays his part very well… but look at him when he moves; his background in contemporary dance is all too evident - he dun’t walk, he glides! He's like a young Wayne Sleep!

He's got the moves like Macca... an' that!

Faye’s still not bonded with her Miley. I told her about how easy it is to shoplift when you’ve a baby in a pram but she wasn’t interested.

“You can hide all sorts in one of these things lovey,” I told her. “ Joints of meat round her legs so she dun’t get too cold and then straight over to Primark for yer jeggings and tops!”

Kids these days, they’re not for listening! I don’t know why I bother!

It’s not long until the polls close for the general election. Norris has been in here six times trying to persuade me to let him display a UKIP poster in the cab office but I’m not having any of it! Sally is voting Conservative cos she thinks that it makes her sound posh and Emily is all about the Greens – on account her nephew Spider who’s running for election down south somewhere.

VOTE FOR SPIDER an' that!

Right then, I can’t stand here gossiping all day I’ve a switchboard to control!

Tweeter me here or whatevs innit...

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