That's a weight off my mind..

After a lot of straining, puffing and panting I've finally managed to empty my back passage! ....Tshh no, not that kind of back passage, you filthy blighters. It's that time of year when Mr H gives the homestead a good spring clean and throws out all that unwanted clutter and jumble. Why even the bedsheets got a good wash.... and they weren't even scheduled to be scrubbed until August. I think I might of become one of those TCP types, you know, where everything has to be super-duper clean.

As you know, I'm not a huge fan of the tellybox, much preferring a good book, but the other day I decided it might be quite nice to watch an episode of Eastenders - or was it because I was too damn lazy to get up for the remote? Anyway..... the last time I witnessed that much cobblers was when Gordon Brown promised, ''British jobs for British workers.'' In the space of 30 minutes I saw...

A ginger bloke wandering around covered in bruises. [Being London, it was probably a gang related drug deal gone wrong].
Another person got smacked in the mouth.
Another person caught cancer.
Another person got a marriage proposal.
And a really hot, nubile girl claimed undying love for a middle aged, chubby Postman. [Yeah, cos that always happens in real life..]

Not to mention all the constant screaming and shouting throughout the soap show.

My god, I know it's rough in London, but surely it ain't that bad. I remember back in the olden days when we had proper telly. None of this shouting rubbish at each other nonsense. Now then, Emmerdale Farm was far more interesting. Nobody had affairs, got beaten up or got cancer. It focused on real issues like; lambing season, sheep shearing, Mat & Dolly and of course Mr Wilks and Amos Brearly down at t' Woolpack quietly smoking their pipes - and all without a smutty joke or homosexual in sight. Them were the days, them were.... them were the days.