…only the ‘pinked-up
Minked-up
Fly-by-night floozy’
Is Ruairi.
Alice is just a bit boozy,
Not huairi.
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You are a Bad Gus.
tee hee
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I love bad Gusly folks
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Isn’t Ben quite the prurient prig? [insert vaguely Newtonian adage here.] He and the dreary, po-faced Casey bint are well matched, and I hope they stay together and make one another miserable for a very long time.
No doubt bleedin’ Beff, like every other bugger in Lake Woebegone Ambridge, is supposed to be dazzlingly attractive, but she sounds as if she has a face like a bag of spanners, with a default/resting expression of ‘bulldog licking piss off a nettle’. So, the perfect DiL for Ruth, then.
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Oh well done, Gus. You have made me smile - quite an achievement this evening, that is.
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Sex for Ambridgeites is always mind-blowing - what one romance writer designated the glittery magical hoo-hah.
One might argue that they don’t have much mind to be blown.
Or one might say cruel things about the scripties.
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Well now, there’s a surprise. The dreary little cow has Trust Ishoos with hairdressers too. I expect the one that screwed up her bob did it so that she wouldn’t come back again and talk in that tedious, flat, ugly voice. But is thick enough to sit down and allow the Wronged Village Bike ‘Maiden’ to flourish freshly sharpened scissors near her jugular.
What other groups have Let Beth Down in the past? Could be quite the list.
Milk saucepans: one boiled over at her when she was making cocoa.
Libraries: didn’t have a book she wanted once
Au pairs: read her fairy stories which weren’t true…
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to try to increase the tension on the vocal cords?
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I had the exact same thought. We might have a budding Helen in the making.
By the way, Chelsea is now incubating a 13 week foetus, making her 15 weeks pregnant today. Best not ask her if she’s decided what to do, it’ll just do her head in. I’ve been watching ‘The Midwich Cuckoos’, I wonder …
Is it too much to hope we get a decision today? This is Alice all over again. Still waiting for the other shoe to drop there and Maaarthurr show up with some problems.
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Right. Pass me the Titchener Memorial Melon-baller and I’ll sort it out meself. Ffs.
Then I’m borrowing Hilda for Jill to trip over and break her neck.
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When she finds out, probably via Overblown Rosie showing off the hairchalks, that Chelsea has been cosying up to Pip, Beth is going to chuck an epi that will break seismographs in China.
Is someone who delegates the monumentally simple task of making a phone call to her mother really in a position to have a child? Answers on a postcard, please. To BPAS. Or Vera Drake.
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