Five Things We Learned In Corrie This Week

Norris is back, BACK, BACK!!!  To be honest I could've just put NORRIS in caps five times and pressed publish, such was the magnificence of the return of Mr Cole, but Grand High Poobah of the Blog Glenda would've probably called me lazy and withdrawn my sign-in privileges.  It was an absolute joy to see Malcolm Hebden back on the Street - and looking remarkably healthy, given the sad circumstances of his departure - and Norris certainly hadn't lost any of his spark in his time away.  Within the course of a week he managed to drive both Mary and Freda to their wits' ends, as well as lobbing some casual insults at Sally and Emma.  How did this fussy, obnoxious, interfering old git manage to become such a treasure?  I hope Malcolm coped well with filming and makes a more permanent return in future.  And if he feels like bringing Emily back too, so much the better.

Hygiene standards are for wimps.  Robert bought Michelle a lovely big bouquet of flowers, because now the roof drama is over and done with and he's been tenuously established as a suspect, their contrived break-up can end.  She arranged them in the kitchen then handed them to Daniel to store in the restaurant.  But hang on, what's that sign over her floral arrangement workspace?

"Food preparation area - raw food only".  Michelle and Robert will have a lot more time to chat about their relationship when the Health Inspectors shut down the Bistro because some poor old lady found greenfly in her chicken cacciatore.

There's never a friend around when you need one.  This little corner of Weatherfield is a cosy, neighbourly place, where everyone knows everyone else's business.  You can't put your milk bottles out in your dressing gown without half the Street passing judgement on your wincyette.  How strange, then, that when Carla came back to the area, the only people around to see her were a couple of completely random people who had no idea who she was and belted Robert when he tried to get close.  There was no Brian nipping out for a bottle of milk, no Leanne peering off her balcony, no Eileen leaving the tram stop.  Funny that.  The bearded thug whacking Robert meant the Connors had to organise an impromptu search party.  Johnny loudly announced that the pub was being closed for a family emergency so they could all run off in different directions shouting her name.  Annie Walker would be turning in her grave; you call that an emergency?  She carried on serving pints when that truck ploughed through the front window, simply picking the plaster out of Albert Tatlock's stout and knocking a penny off for the inconvenience.  You need to be a lot more stoic in the face of disaster if you're going to be a decent publican Johnny.

The Charlie's Angels reboot looks fantastic.  Our triplet of teenagers spent the week clattering around the Street being all hip and modern and making me feel ancient, whittering on about Snapchat and selfies and texting.  They formed a threesome which brought back happy memories of a childhood spent watching three little girls who went to the police academy (as I said: I am ancient).  Amy is Kate Jackson, witty and snarky, Summer is the Jaclyn Smith, smart and bookish, which means Asha is Farrah Fawcett-Majors, which explains why she wore more make up than a contestant in RuPaul's Drag Race in Friday's episode.  (Aadi is obviously Bosley).  Sadly they spent more time talking about boys than karate chopping, but I'm hopeful that they'll unite together as an invincible crime-fighting trio bringing the Roof Ninja (© Talk of the Street) to justice while effortlessly tossing their hair and not breaking a nail.

Wednesday night is Retro Night at Speed Daal.  Ryan brought out his amazing DJ skills after months left dormant so that he could thrill Weatherfield's youth with the latest choons.  And what did he put on?  Right Here Right Now by Fatboy Slim (from 1998) and Don't Look Back Into The Sun by The Libertines (from 2003).  That's from before half the people in the restaurant were even born.  I get that the producers didn't want to scare ITV's more, ahem, mature audience, but something from this decade might have been nice.  Amongst those tracks Geoff's Hi Ho Silver Lining wouldn't have been completely out of place.

The author is currently wearing a jock strap made out of polyester elastene weave to prevent dampness and odours.  Photos can be obtained by sending him a DM on Twitter @merseytart.

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