Tuesday, 1 April 2014

I Wish We'd Never Gone to that Flaming Soup Kitchen

Everyone was in a huff. Last night’s were quite arduous episodes to watch, actually. When Carla actually smiling for once is Corrie’s cheeriest moment you know that something's gone wrong. Sally was furious over furtive lesbian antics under her roof. Stella’s daughter who-isn't-Leanne was cross after being told her mother was jetting off to New York, while she had to go and live above a kebab shop. Rob was incensed because Peter’s put his rent up and probably also because he's always wearing too tight trousers.

And the woeful Windass family (what an awful name!) were more miserable than ever. Even Roy coming round with leftover chicken and mushroom pie from the cafe couldn't cheer them up. The predicament they're in with Phelan means that they're short of cash. We know that because there was a scene that told us this three times. Last night’s were the kind of episodes that hit you over the head with their subtexts...

Mostly last night it was all about Peter doing his relay race between Carla and the girl with the huge earrings. That silly man is going to do himself a mischief. He huffs and puffs his way round those back alleys, snapping a tab end in and out of his gob and he couldn’t look shiftier if he tried. He was keeled over beside his precious ginnel by 9pm. This, after learning from both wife and mistress in the space of an hour that they are both - as Carla hooted with her usual finesse - up the duff. I groaned out loud. It was all way too contrived. It was all so predictable my mind was taken off the drama by the way High Definition draws unfortunate attention to extra dark nasal hairs. Peter’s seemed particularly noticeable when he was lying on his settee, Carla draped over his chest and acting. I wonder if he dyes them?

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