The Castle

Sometimes I can be incredibly patient. Not always. But when I truly want something I’m happy to play the long game. Wait. Work. Get what you want to achieve. 

I waited over 20 years for one of my happiest moments in my life. I was 25 when it happened so if you wanted to be dramatic (which I do) then you could say that I’d waited my entire life for this. 

I’d first seen it on Blue Peter. Towering spires melting into the sky. Crowds! Fireworks! The star himself standing right outside immortalised in bronze, Mickey Mouse. 

Disney World. Disney. World. A world of Disney. Morning’s of Rescue Rangers, Darkwing Duck, Tailspin and Gargoyles all in one place, a concentrate of fun and adventure all symbolised by the castle in the centre of the park. I had to go to there. 

My parents? Well. Their levels of enthusiasm were the polar opposite of mine. I saw hugging Pluto and flying with Peter and I’m pretty sure they saw an expensive trip for a boy that will grow out of his Disney obsession. Their energy was much more in the realm of walks along the scenic parts of Britain not so much queuing for rides in the hot Florida sun. I was not getting to Disney with them and not being old enough to earn, this was one pot I would have to stop watching. 

Time went on. 

Arguably too much time. 

My heart continued to swell for Disney as they continued to release stories I loved. The Emperor’s New Groove. Phineas and Ferb. House of Mouse. Lilo and the legend that is Stitch. All of them like crosses on a map to me and Disney World was the treasure. I could say ‘eventually a boy I met was the ship that took me to the treasure and his family were the wind in our sails’ but that would be labouring an analogy. The important thing is that I got there. 

September 2011. The trip was meticulously planned, everyone had a personal itinerary, each park had their designated days, meals had been booked months in advance, this was going to be perfect. And it was. My dreams started coming true from day one.

To get into the Magic Kingdom early we were going to have breakfast with Pooh and Friends. This is exactly what you think it is. When we arrived at the park gates it was deathly quiet, I remember a handful of us tourists all looking as though we were slightly in the wrong place and could be REMOVED FROM THE PARK FOREVER at any given point. The kind of excitement that sparks an irrational fear that it’ll all be taken away from you. It wasn’t, every was ok. We were directed into the park through a side gate by a cast member (pointing with three fingers, never one) and this is when I lost my shit. 

Main Street USA spread before me. A pristine slice of fake America. If eyes could eat I’d have devoured the lot quicker than a 20 nugget share box . I’d watched documentaries of this street, seen too many videos of Walt walking right at this very spot, the parades! The characters! The exclusive toys and nick nacks that my consumeristic heart still gets palpitations for now. I knew his place. I belonged here. I ran. Literally ran between shop windows to see the displays. Daisy twirling on the spot, Aladdin hovering on his carpet (on a pole moving up and down) and a team of animatronic birds tweeting along to a song I couldn’t remember.  It was just as perfect and plastic as I imagined. 

What I hadn’t done was look to the bottom of the street. I knew what was there. What was hiding out of the corner of my eye. I needed this moment to be perfect. So I stopped in the middle of the street. I didn’t stop for long, just a beat, there were a lot of things to see and the gods had cursed me with only the standard two eyes. And as slowly as I could (not slowly at all) I looked up towards the castle. 

I’d not dreamed of this moment. Dreaming’s far too passive. I’d actively constructed in my mind here and now. The smell of popcorn, hotdogs and suncream. The warmth from above starting to beat down on the pavement. A feeling of excitement that I thought would be like going to Alton Towers but, just, more. My imagination has limits, I was not prepared for this.

My pause became a step, the step a trot, the trot turned into a run, the run propelled me into a sprint. A David shaped blur.

I forgot about my boyfriend. I forgot about his family who were still stood at the entrance. I forgot to have a plan. I just needed to be so close to that castle that it filled my vision and became my world. This symbol of joy and escapism was just…there! Pictures from this moment are cringe inducing to show other people but a joy for me to look at alone. 

If I’d been allowed right up to the castle I would have willed my arms into a length that would wrap around this mountain of fake stone and glass. I would have squeezed it until it crumbled, while the people inside died I would have whispered ‘Thank you’ and as the police gunned me down I would have told the castle ‘I love you.’ 

Instead I stood and gazed. I cry easily and nothing was going to stop this particular flood. I’d longed to be here for so long. This place. This castle. It’s not just kids films, musicals and cartoons. This wasn’t just a childhood dream come true. I felt like I was in the heart of something truly aspirational. A place where the best stories in the world come to life. In a place that strives to make everyone feel included. I was feeling too much and it was glorious. 

One of the many things that Disney has taught us is that spells must come to an end and it’s usually a handsome prince that does it. My handsome prince didn’t break the spell with a kiss but by putting his hand around mine and saying the beautiful words:

‘It’s time for breakfast with Pooh.’

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Neighbours – Tuesday on a Monday

How often do you think of the sex lives of teenagers? I mean actual teenagers you may know and the sex that they are having. Not the ones you’re chatting to on Grindr or searching for on Xtube. Their sex life is between them and their gods.

If you’re Paul Robinson then you think about it all the fucking time. Next to ‘business’ it’s his favourite go to conversation. Who is porking who and how angry can he get about it? And he is furious about Harlow (Paul’s in show Granddaughter and Jason Donovan’s in real life daughter) and Hendrix (son of Pierce who is played by Tom Robards known for all the reality TV in Australia and having large, very large man titties) finally hooking up. More on that in a bit.

This is Tom. Bet you want to watch Neighbours now.

This week we continued to see the fall out from The Island. Sheila, think mouthy barmaid, bread back, in everyone’s gossip, how I want to live my final 40 years on this planet. Sheila is pissed that people are forgetting that her son Gary is… well he got shot in the back with an arrow and then burned in a bush fire, so he’s dead.

She’s fuming that her adult son, the epitome of a loser, is not getting the same recognition (a mural we’ve seen once and a tree) as Goddess Sonya who died from cancer last year. At one point she was yelling about a statue of him in the centre of Lassiters. Below is Gary. No one wants a statue of Gary.

Here are the top three shit things that Gary has done:

  • He does lame crime badly such as when Paul paid him to steal a file from Terese or when he failed to steal a car and had to get his daughters best friend’s boyfriend to help him. Loser.
  • He attacked Karl which is a little bit yay, also, respect your elders
  • He does a thing called the Limber Ladybird which makes women cream themselves and the thought of him doing it puts me off sex, being limber, ladybirds and life.

It’s been a joy to see Sheila let loose, yelling at the police, yelling across the street, yelling at the Kennedy’s when they incredibly selfishly decided to have drinks at Sheila’s bar and demanding that David (Paul’s son) get’s fired for not spotting that crazy Finn was being crazy.

Boning. That’s where we started so that’s where we’ll end. Harlow is deep in grief after her mother (Denise Van Outen) was blown up sort of accidentally by Finn (read more about Finn in last week’s update.) This week was the memorial and Harlow handed all responsibility over to Roxy (we’ll get into who she is another time, it’s a little exhausting to think about now) so she could get herself comfortable and listen to her Mother’s final voicemail ad nauseam. That is. Until. PAUL DELETES IT! What a cad.

This sends Harlow into a mega FUCK YOU and agrees to have a memorial that’s a bit more party, oh, yeah, and uses doctrine from the cult her mother was heavily in debt to. The chaotic energy of everyone smiling and complimenting each other sends Harlow over the edge and she decides to lose her virginity to Hendrix. Now. I just want applaud them. I can honestly say. Hands on my heart. Grief sex is some of the horniest I’ve had. And after my Mother died, well, all I can say is Harlow gave herself the gift (and curse) of the first time being possibly the best she’ll ever have. You go Harlow. More power to you.

That’s the end of this week. Join me next week where we might find out if Elly is going to prison. We’ll see the depths of Susan’s guilt for bringing Finn back to the street and I develop some Neighbours themed software, Neighbits.

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Quarantine Week 5

My Names David. I’m 33. I live in London. And my Mum is dead.

Nailed it!

You’re interested right? That’s the the formula? Boring, boring, then BAM in your face. The thought of a dead, death corpse.

What did you see? Did you flash to Joyce Summers just out of focus, lying across the sofa, Buffy calling for her? How about your own dead Mum? I’m sure that wasn’t great. Sorry about that. Maybe you’re sick in the head and thought of dead, blue boobs. Firm little mountains of cold veiny flesh. Was that you? I hope you feel shame. 

Me. Like you. Are sort of trapped inside. It’s hard. In this untangle way. A glob that surrounds everything, sucking away at stamina meters without a break, making it impossible to take a moment and refocus. Also. Me. Like you. Want to be inspired. Even though you understand, you know, that this is odd, that things are difficult, but still you can’t forgive yourself for not doing better.

Well this is my drop in the ocean, to self-indulgently and hopefully knowingly help by offering up a bit of my soul as entertainment and to make you feel a little less alone. 

This will not be safe for any family member to read. 

The main thing occupying my head this week is of course fucking. It’s been a while. Want to know how many times I’ve woken up humping my mattress? Just count how many days there are in the week and multiply it by the four times a night I wake up humping my goddamn mattress.

It’s driving me insane. 

I know, I KNOW, that this is an expression of my loneliness rather than an actual need to sow my wild oats and add to the fat-berg beneath London with cum covered shits and used condoms. That if I was starving I would be imagining grotesque feasts with mountains of food rather than a healthy salad. But that doesn’t help and doesn’t make the fire that is currently coursing across my  skin  stop. 

My living situation doesn’t help. I live with my cousin and he moved his girlfriend in at the the start of quarantine. This in itself is not terrible, I love my cousin, he’s one of my closest friends and it’s the best news that he wants to share his life with someone. However, they’ve been dating for around a year and are at the exact point in the relationship you can imagine (think play fights, bedroom music turned up, not enough bickering or visible cracks in the relationship that I can pick away at for my own chuckles.)

I, on the other hand,  haven’t had a had a hug in four weeks.

It makes me feel profoundly lonely. 

I get up and make breakfast for myself. I will then sit in my room for 8 hours attempting work alone. I’ll go on my government mandated walk also alone. I’ll go to the shops alone and then when it’s all done I’m back in my bed all by myself again. What’s my moment of rest-bite from this tedium? It is of course Grindr, wanking and that 30 seconds of bliss post cum before the guilt slams into you. 

These wanks, where I lose myself in a world of limbs, dicks and holes are my current happy place. A sweet spot of escapism that sort of feels like a work out. But even this has been tainted.

The gays I follow on Twitter like to have opinions that come purely from their own self interests. This is more a read of the type of people I choose to follow rather than the gays themselves. One opinion that keeps coming up is the damning of anyone that breaks quarantine to have The Sex. Or, as we should call it, slut shaming but with an injection of even more moral superiority. My view is keep this opinion to yourself*. It’s a trash, simplistic, damaging to the people it’s referring to and does little but make the those saying it feel momentarily as though they’ve ‘done their part for the good of the nation.’

These opinions are usually along the  lines of ‘if you need to break quarantine for sex then you clearly have issues with how much you love yourself and how selfish you are.’ And they keep on haunting my head at inopportune moments. It’s not exactly ideal to be thinking about Thor choking me with Mjolnir (handle down the throat) whilst Amy Jo Johnson (with out without helmet dependent on mood) is pegging away, to be suddenly confronted with the selfishness of sex. Followed by feeling like a piece of shit because I contemplated hooking up with XXLHNH because he lives home alone and surely the risk isn’t too bad. I didn’t. But I felt like I could. 

I think about those folks deciding they need to go out and bang. Of course there will be some people who are doing it for less than noble (knoble?) reasons, there always are. But why not take a look through someone else’s bedroom window? You might see a soul who’s miles from their family, that hasn’t spoken directly to another person’s face in weeks and the only way connection to the world is through their phone. For them, seeing someone else just a few feet away is as lonely and horny must be a comfort. Is it really that bad if they take it a step beyond the rules? How about people recently out of relationships, grieving, lost their jobs, had a limb amputated, that are simply lost? The people figuring out life and where they belong? We’d forgive them for doing stupid things in normal situations, how on earth can we expect them to suddenly become level headed bastions for good behavior? 

I don’t want people to break quarantine. It’s clearly a bad idea. But people break rules and the law at the best of times for all kinds of reason. Why not show a bit of compassion now? And for those of you out there hooking up, why not do what I did and purchase a toy for ‘muscle pain relief.’

So I think that’s it for this installment. That felt like a bit of a meander but then that’s what’s happening between my brain and fingers. Big apology to  those sucked in with the dead Mum chat and wanted some more, tune in next time. For those wanting more dick discussion, tune in next time too or slide into my DMs. 

Stay safe and very far apart. 


*That is unless you have managed to carry out studies into human behaviour and the results of being trapped inside in a space that it is, by far, not equipped to be lived in 24 hours a day, used as your place of work 5 days a week, oh, and you’re not allowed to see anyone in person. Then yes, maybe I would like to hear your opinion.

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Neighbours – Friday on a Monday

Hello and welcome to the only and most precise Neighbours recap you need.

The Neighbours you need to know

We are going to hit the ground hard and fast here so these are the key facts you need to know:

  • Neighbours has just celebrated 35 years of being the best art humanity has created
  • To celebrate, they sent a whole bunch of characters to an island with a serial killer. It went as well as you can expect
  • Denise Van Outen has recently been blown up
  • To punish us for enjoying the 35th, Neighbours is currently on twice a week. The cadence of my life is in tatters
  • The Kennedy’s, Robinson’s and Canning’s are all at war

We need to have a brief chat about Susan

Sorry. This will be difficult for you to read.

Forget all you know about Susan. Susan is a terrible person. Susan makes terrible decisions and then hides behind her kind eyes, principles desk and scarves. I feel with my entire being that because of her, and only her, you can blame any bad choice you have made directly on Susan Kennedy.

You need examples? I’ve got you covered.

  1. She let known killer of life and torturer of both of her nieces (Bea and Ellie) move into her home
  2. She let one of those nieces (Bea) date him
  3. She covered up for the other niece (Ellie) when she started boning him behind her sister’s back
  4. She’s not changed her hair in over a decade, it’s as though her life fundamentally changed and then stopped the instant Lynn cut her locks off
  5. She’s stayed married to Karl

From here on blame Susan and pray for her redemption.

So what the fuck is happening on Ramsay Street now?

Strong question.

The focus at the moment is on Ellie and how she continues, as always, to be the worst.

What I mean to say is, Ellie is social pariah who has no soul and sees no worth in the world unless the world is looking at her. And she is loving slopping around in the current drama.

As you’re unaware of the current drama (that’s why you’re here) let me fill you in about Finn Kelly. This man is Finn Kelly.

How do you feel about this face now you’ve seen it? Aren’t thin lips crazy hot? What substance are they made from? Is there a danger of paper-cuts? What does he chew on when he’s taken too much? Important things we all need to know.

Finn was evil, tried to kill a lot of people, including all students at Erinsborough High but then Susan tried to kill him. It didn’t work. Instead he got a touch of the old Harold and forgot what he had done, only remembering up until he was about 17. That was before he was taken by terrorists who tortured and raped him because his parents refused to pay the ransom. And now he’s dead after falling into watery grave he meant for Suze.

Back to Ellie. She’d been on The Island for her birthday with a bunch of…when it comes to Ellie they’re not exactly friends, she sees them more as eyes on stalks. To Ellie people are merely there to witness her not to be engaged with. Finn stole her baby (his nephew, I’ll leave you to think about that) and set fire to The Island. Ellie escaped of course and found her way to Susan and Finn (i.e. someone told her that’s where the cameras were) and instead of doing anything actually useful, like grab everyone and runway to safety, she simply squatted and sprayed herself across the crime scene.

Every fluid her body could create was expelled, every flake of skin she could spare was laid across the land, no stone remained unlicked and not not a single strand of hair remained on her head. So, understandably, the police investigation (which is spear headed by no other than SKY MANGEL) think she is very guilty and deserves whatever randomly selected justice Erinsborough Police will dish out this time.

So that’s you caught up for now. Tune in next time to find out if Mackenzie stays in Erinsborough. We’ll see the further fallout from Gary’s death. I’ll tell you who Mackenzie and Gary are. And we’ll all see if I manage to make an expose on the boobs of Erinborough (Erinsbreasts) not sexist. Any questions you have are understandable and welcome. Until then take care and attention when making your own perfect blend.

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Going to Disney? (Something I wrote in the Guardian.)

First of all if you’re going to Disney World then you are a wise and powerful person and I am incredibly excited about the adventure you’re about to take.


Read my advice in The Guardian. Or you would have been able to until the link went down so here’s a piss poor PDF of it.

(I also wrote a very difficult Avengers quiz for the Guardian for the launch of Infinity War.)

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Read with your ears!

You might not be able to read what I’m writing at the moment but you can hear what I’m saying on my podcast with casual acquaintance David Morgan.

Why not subscribe?


Other places 

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It’s all about fake IDee

Before we get into last week’s Neighbours (because who loves nothing more than talking about an out of date soap) can we all agree that the sausage competition and the constant unashamed innuendos are the best thing to happen to Neighbours in years. If Terese gave up her job to work in a sausage factory and talk about sausage all the live long day I think I’d die happy.

Gary wants to feed Terese his sausage. She wants it, she wants it deep in her mouth. Oh Yeah. Feed her that sausage. FEED HER.

So the Dee story’s a pile of shit covered in peroxide isn’t it?

The moment Dee became Fake Dee (I can’t be fucked learning the new character’s name) and not Dee Dee it all seemed like a pointless exercise. Character motivated by money is what we have Paul and Terese bickering for and they do it better. You know what would be good (apart from anything else)? A character hell bent on revenge on a husband she feels left her to die and the friends that have forgotten her. That would be amazing.

Instead Fake Dee is wandering around the place like a lame Dick Dastardly with no real motivation for what she’s doing. We all know she’ll be found out in the end, Toadie will move on and no one will mention it again. Dee even lies to Susan. To Susan! She’s a saint! I couldn’t even be bothered shrugging. I’ve given up on the idea of Fake Dee being actual Dee, the plot hasn’t been that smart. It’s been so dumb that she’s going to get discovered because she’s missing a lower back tattoo or some shit like that.


So for this week our stories we don’t give a flying fuck about are:

  • Fake Dee and her plot to finally reveal her boob
  • The Tanaka brothers and their hunt for … I don’t know what
  • Terese lowering herself to even consider being porked by Gary
  • Paige

It’s been a few weeks since I checked on Ramsay Street so what has everyone been up to? Apart from Aaron hitting the gym, they’ve been up to very little.


Steph has ditched Mark which is relief as it felt more like a story to serve plot than the characters. She’s now banging hottie Victoria who was married to Mark’s boss and is mother to some creature that learned to speak last week. Nothing will go wrong here at all. No sir. I’m really glad that they’ve not forgotten Steph’s sexuality and they’ve not made that pivotal to her actions, Victoria could just as easily be a man. What I’m not so happy about is that she’s managed to pick up another stalker. Is there some sort of handbook on how to piss of Steph? Did Paul write it? Is that how he’s rich again? Give it three more days, Steph’ll start thinking she’s crazy again and it’ll be revealed to be Belinda or Vicki’s wife or Libby because of the spare time she has from not being a parent.

Steph being happy (hooray) has clearly made Mark upset (also hooray.) In a not so subtle chat with Toadie about having feelings for someone and not talking to your other half, Mark seems confused that Steph wanted time to work out her emotions before telling Mark. Surely women aren’t capable of such complicated thought and if she had just told Mark, a man, then he would have been able to solve it for her. Silly, stupid women.  You know what Mark, just shut up, shut the fuck up. Maybe what you should have said in this situation was:

“Steph what’s wrong. You seem a bit unhappy and confused, how do we work together to get to the best outcome for both of us.”

Y’know instead of being such a selfish fuck nut. Toadie did a good job of arguing the other side (he’d just had THE MOMENT with Fake Dee) to which Mark was all “we’ll have to agree to disagree.” No one benefits from saying that apart from the smug cunt that forced the warm air to make those sounds out of their stupid meat lips.

I’d like you all to take a look at this sign. Would you hire this solicitor? A solicitor who has stapled a poster to a wall instead of an actual sign? A solicitor that thinks you’re so stupid that they felt they had to illustrate what they do with a picture. A solicitor that chose lime green. A solicitor that chose Aaron to be his secretary?

While we’re talking about this little cluster of idiots we’re going to have to mention Sonya and Mark and the baby in her belly. First off all I’m still unsure about the logistics here, Mark is such a drip of a human I honestly don’t believe his semen would do anything but slowly ooze out of a person, there’s no way it can create life.

Turns out, it doesn’t matter that this new baby is causing misery to everyone that hears about it, they can’t decide who will look after it and now it might be seriously ill, but they’re still going to keep it. Karl is so disgusted about the whole thing that he’s fobbing the pair off onto David the only other doctor in Erinsborough.

Now I never want to wish baby death on someone but if this child dies, that would be amazing. Sonya is totally absolving herself of all responsibility whilst at the same time painting herself as some sort of morally superior womb haver. She actually said, “It might be my body but it’s your baby.”  Feminism.

A brief interlude before we go back to the hospital. Anyone else noticing that Neighbours is getting its monies worth out of a deal with London Grammar? My new goal in life is to form a band whose music appears exclusively in the background of tea-time soaps.

It’s work experience week at the school! Yay! A chance to see some new locations. Maybe meet some new people. In a normal soap perhaps. Neighbours shipped Ben off to the hospital because of all those times he mentioned wanting to be a doctor (never) and Xanthe went with him because instead of being her own person with her own motivation she’s fallen into the same trap as any vagina that slopped onto Ramsay Street and now she’s purely driven by her desire for cock. In this instance Ben’s cock. Even though she has excellent fashion sense and was at one point an Instagram sensation she decided to trade it all in to spend some time with Benny Boy. Feminism.

They sort of redeemed things by making Xanthe instrumental in reattaching some soundless beasts finger but when they got to the hospital Karl was all “Have you thought about being a nurse? Women can only be nurses. Doctoring is man job. You’ll be a doctor Ben although you’ve shown no interest or inclination for the role.” Xanthe smiled after a man told her she was slightly better than worthless and everyone carried on with their day.

Aaron chose to wear this fuckery of a combination.

Amber, remember her? Lauren’s daughter. Do you remember Lauren, she’s Lou’s daughter, she used to be interesting until they removed all her stories and turned her into a plant pot at Harold’s. Anyway her grandaughter, Matilda, is super ill and THEY ARE GOING TO SELL HAROLD’S! Well they said it once, but it won’t happen. Who would take over? Sky. I want Sky to take over.

Just. No.

Finally lets cast our eye over to Piper who seems to have brought everyone into a drama that could easily be solved by a bit of compassion and parenting. Piper is now dealing fake IDs because generic girl, Cousin It and whatever she is at the back said that ‘anything could happen.’ Pipes, anything could mean a good things, stay optimistic. Or, don’t deal fake IDs because you know it’s illegal.

Look at the state of this lot.

Pipes, and I’m talking to you directly here, in the past anytime you’ve done something a bit stupid  it’s because you’ve believed it’s the right thing. I liked that about you. Don’t dick about here, also don’t do your illegal deals in the middle of a coffee shop that every single person you know uses daily.

I really hate it when Neighbours uses blackmail as a way to excuse someone acting out of character, they’re doing the same thing to Gary. Piper and Elly are finally getting on so why not make them work together to solve the problem?

Brilliantly, Willow, who’s rapidly becoming my favourite character has got involved and when Elly got a little too close to the truth Willow didn’t run away from a fight instead she photoshops a picture of Elly to make it look like she slept with underage Angus. Excellent. How she heard about Angus and managed to get a picture is beside the point but it’s always nice to see women looking out for each other.

I have a ton of questions about how the paperwork would pan out to get Willow into school when she’s lying about her name and age. If anyone could answer that please drop me a line. I’m starting to feel rather angry about it. Also Jimmy is starting to make eyes at Willow and she’s starting to flirt with Ben, if she was to have sex with either of these people would there be a statutory rape case and how would that pan out?

Imagine showing that much tit in a coffee shop.

Quotes of the week 

  • Piper about Elly “Her idea of bettering herself is a spray tan.”
  • Steph: “I never picked you for a book worm”
    Elly: “I’m an English teacher”

There we have it, fake ID’s and Fake Dee. Let hope for a few more thrills this week shall we?

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DEEsaster week!

So. Full disclosure. I have a glass of wine in hand. My emotions are changeable and true.

So they’ve fucked up Dee’s return. Dee’s not Dee and the revelation that Toadie has a secret daughter lasted about a second. Dee’s some other lass (SneakDEE) who I just could not give a fuck about. All the weight and emotion I gushed about last week feels like a lie and I hate everyone involved. Everyone.


…that’s unless the writers have recently watched Addams Family and Dee is Uncle Festering us. Maybe true Dee lost her memory, became someone else, learned about THE GREAT BLISS ESTATE (half a million dollars folks) and decided to pretend to be Dee to get the money that is actually hers because SHE TURNS OUT TO BE MOTHER FUCKING DEE. (Try not to think about the kid, Willow ruins everything.)

We can only hope this is the case or the next few months are going to drag with Toadie being tricked by a dastardly plot followed by Dee standing in shadows stroking her beard. To make things worse the chances of her being found out are slim to none as Mark the crappiest cop known to man has only had his suspicions raised by a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on a hotel door. Mark hasn’t been to a hotel before. Poor Mark.

What else have we learned from the whole Dee situation? My main take-away has been that I don’t know what a DNA test entails or what it actually tells you about a person. For instance, home paternity tests? Is that a thing? Yes it is.  Do they work like Dee’s DNA test where you cram dead-woman-hair into a bag? I don’t know.

Why, oh lord, why does she have a clump of hair from a woman that died 13 years ago? Did she scalp Dee? Is a scalped Dee with one eye hanging out and nail-less toes going to turn up and save the day? Does hair not rot?

I also learned the exact way not to peak through some curtains.

Sometimes I really do feel for Sonya. When you get with someone that looks like Toadie you don’t think you’re going to have to deal with so many exes never mind the stunners that Toadie tricked into bumping uglies with. This sympathy normally only lasts for a second until I remember that she’s actually a self serving monster who pretends to do good for others but it’s normally just to boost her own feelings of moral superiority and self worth. ‘Oh I’m Sonya, I wear ethnic patterns and can’t tell stories, I’m so full of hippy goodness.’ You know what Sonya? Fuck off. You’re distrustful and jealous of anyone you didn’t meet first and your obsession with Mark is sick. You’re sick. Sonya. You’re sick.

Unsurprisingly Mark is taking this opportunity to be as big a dick as humanly possible.

Mark: Steph, I know I’m lying about where I’m going and my best friend is pregnant with my baby but why are you kissing people that aren’t me?
Steph: Because everything and everyone on this planet is more desirable than you.

When Steph finally decided to do some straight talking about the Victoria kiss he flips:

“This happens a lot to you” he says.

Does it? Does it Mark? Give me another occasion this has happened to Steph. When would you have even seen? The times you come up for air from whatever woman you’re eating out are few and far between.

He forgets HE LITERALLY PUT HIS SPERM IN HIS BEST FRIEND’S BELLY. Thankfully Steph flung her ring at him and then slammed her engagement band down on the table. You go girl. Don’t raise the baby that you didn’t want in the first place. You ballsed up the two kids that you actually planned for. How on earth do you think this is going to turn out well?

Victoria is putting more time and dedication into the stalking of Steph than Mark has done about anything ever. Ditch him. Let lady V slam your body down and wind it all around. This is the best thing to happen to Steph in years, excellent stuff. More of this please.

This also means that Mark and Sonya can make the most of the new giant river that no one’s talking about. How many children died when this river appeared?

In fun other news Terese seems to be losing her way around Erinsborough and marking walls with her lipstick like she’s stuck in the labyrinth.

Typer continue to live in a roof  with no door, no food and no parental care. Piper’s parents have decided to punish her for what her and all our loins want by not letting her have school books, food or shoes. This seems like a fool-proof plan and I’m sure Piper will merrily move home soon enough .

It’s always fun to see a so many people round this table that have had their genitals in each other. So beautiful.

The other kids got a bit of a look in this week. They’ve got a lovely new uniforms with colour, shapes and fabrics that I haven’t the words to describe. Jimmy had his first day at high school which means we’re in for five years of him running away from home, spray painting things and occasionally making friends with girls with flashes of cheap clip on hair.

Xanthe continues to be mad obsessed with dodge ball. I honestly preferred her when she was being molested by strangers. They keep trying to make it sexy with some slo-mo. You know what makes anything sexy? Tyler. Topless. Greased up like a pig. Moaning in the dark. Oink.

The first day back at school seemed to take its toll on Susan and Elly. The next picture doesn’t have the same oomph without proper context but editing of the episode tells me it was in the middle of the day.

Susan and Sheila such an incredible catfight that Susan forgot how clothes work.

Just take it off Susan and shove it in a washing machine stop being patted down like a horse.

I often wonder why anyone would live in Erinsborough? There’s so much drama, explosions and bitchiness. I suppose if there’s a chance you could come back to life then that’s a rather compelling reason to live anywhere.

And there we have it. Dee not being real isn’t iDEEl, I’d rather see the emotional fallout of her return and a daughter he didn’t know about rather than have to DEEl with the frustration of waiting weeks for her to be found out. Meh.

Remember, when Neighbours throw mud at each other they become good friends.

P.S. It was nice of Marlene to cameo.


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Dee Day

So this week it’s tricky to be funny. Neighbours was amazing. I’m really sorry. I’m going to use too many clichés. I’m going to praise the acting and possibly a set or two. Neighbours would have made my life easier if these things had happened this week:

  • Paige died

That pretty much sums it up. I’m happy with this list. This is a good list.

Oh my god she came back! Dee/Dee’s sister pretending to be her/Dee’s parents dressed up as Dee/Libby wearing Falkor as a wig … whatever she is, she’s played by Madeleine West, has natural blonde hair and she’s back!

It’s been a fucking brilliant week of Neighbours with Madeleine and Ryan Moloney (he plays Toadie. What? Someone plays these characters? A person pretends to be someone else, lies to the world and we just accept this? fucking disgusting) have been knocking it out of the park. Grief, anger, accusations, acceptance, we’ve had it all folks. Then, THEN! Neighbours had the audacity to be more than a just a wonderfully comfortable soap and gave every meeting between Dee and old characters such weight and emotion that this doesn’t feel like a standard character-back-from-the-dead storyline, it feels like something special.

Steph, you broke my heart.

So where’s Dee been all this time? As far as we know her wedding dress dragged her under the waves and that’s why the rescue team didn’t find her. A lady called Emily who we can only assume has too many cats, did. Emily, for reasons, didn’t take Dee to a hospital even though she had massive head trauma and memory loss and they decided to hide from the world for over a decade. Yup. Seems legit.

Obviously this isn’t going to be plain sailing. Here’s just a few coo coo things Dee did this week:

  • Behaving like going back to Ramsay Street is a final exam, when she got Elly’s family tree wrong it was like she’d seriously let someone down
  • She’s got no memory of Tad, but do any of us really?
  • She had a weird mirror in the middle of the room set up where she looked at her reflection as though she didn’t recognise herself
  • She has the same hair, clothes, perfume and wedding ring as over a decade ago – emotional manipulation of Toadie or lack of new clothes and perfume in the crazy cat lady house?
  • She’s adamant that she killed her sister and she should pay although it doesn’t really sound like she did…yet

Current theory: Emily is actually nut job Sindi who’s been training Dee to be an assassin as she seeks to get her hands on the Bliss family fortune. All of this is orchestrated by Susan, who, by showing us that she keeps pictures of dead Ramsay Street residents so close to hand confirms what has long been suspected that she is in fact the Erinsborough Puppet Master.

Sadly we were only allowed to see the Blessed Dee for three days. The rest of the week was filled with the other shit the Neighbours have been doing. Shall we have a look?

Leo opened a hotel,  that’s right the 456th hotel has opened in Erinsborough, this time for backpackers. The whole business model seems to be “We have a wombat, come and look at the wombat.” Surely that can’t go wrong.

This did however give us one of the most Neighbours things to happen in Neighbours and it looked a little something like this:

Let’s hope Backpackers gets filled up with greased up sluts and we spend a lot time there. Also, see that dude in the background? More of him please.

Steph’s continuing to explore all the moments she can with Victoria. Exploring moments in the bar, in the car, in the vagina. Everywhere! Steph, listen to me, Victoria is a hell of a lot hotter and more interesting than Mark, she also hasn’t got your best friend’s wife pregnant. Leave Mark and dive deep into the loving lips of Victoria, you have my permission.

Arron worked as a hotel opening compere – I’m not even sure that’s a CV eligible job.

Terese and Paul decide to tackle how problematic Australia Day is. Lols. Of course they don’t. They get some sports people in and Terese’s face sums up my feelings about guest spots from famous people who aren’t famous for acting:

Gary, well, we’re not sure what’s happening there. Or why. There was a car filled with laptops that then wasn’t? What? Now he’s taken to kidnapping a wombat. If anyone would like to fill me in I’d really appreciate it.

Over in Typer land it’s a bit meh. They hang out in a hotel room not naked. Tyler continues to look for work not naked. They move into Backpackers also not naked. Why even bother filming them? Oh yes. That’s right. Arms.

I want to end this week with stressing how fucking angry I am that Digital Spy gave away a massive spoiler for next week in a headline. I’m repulsed. Angry. Life will never be the same again. This is just the beginning it’s not the end.

Fuck! No! Anger turned into a Mel C song.

Remember it’s when Neighbours doubt that an old friend has come back from the dead and they investigate them behind everyone else’s back even though you know that it will make people angry because your name is Mark and you’re a terrible policeman, fiance and human that they become good friends.

Final thought: It costs $150 to stay at the shit hole Robinsons? What the actual fuck? Apart from the one room that’s seen more blood, bones and semen than a prostitutes butt hole, what do you get for $150?

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Neighbours the filler week

Welcome back for the second recap of Neighbours 2017 and I’m already wondering why I’m bothering. Carl and Susan were nowhere to be seen. There’s no better way to say it, this was a shit week of Neighbours. Shit. Just. Shit. shit shit shit. Shit. … shit.

Except for this!


What can we take away from the brief Friday meeting?

  1. Dee doesn’t age

And that’s it. I really thought it was going to be a longer list. Sorry.

Where is this story going to go: Apparently this storyline is going to get dark, quickly. I’m not sure if I can cope with this, previous dark storylines have included:

  • Cheryl was kidnapped in Ecuador whilst trying to free her son, a son that was smuggling drugs for fun. She had an affair, cut her hair and left Lou because she didn’t care
  • Steph was convinced she was mad by Paul the resident cad
  • Phillip Martin wrote romance on pages for all kinds of ages but mainly for those that play with their cooch

But it’ll probably be that Dee has gang connections and needs money.

Here’s what else happened this week. Yay. (This is going to be a slog.)

You know (you might not know) that on Radio 1 if there’s silence for longer than five minutes an emergency generic playlist kicks in. The Neighbours equivalent powered up this week while we wait for Dee Bliss to say some lines. The kids in love ran away (the second time for Piper and still zero times for me.) The elusive Moment returned (more on this later.) Bad things happened to good cars. Parents were terrible parent.

Let’s start with Piper and Tyler. They ran away but luckily Erinsborough’s only and worst copper Mark was able to track them down with the help of just about everyone. So they came back. The angry Terad BTreard Brarese beast came slamming in with it’s four legs and two mouths, shouting things like “No!” “You’re so irresponsible!” “Let’s not mention that Brad dated a 14 year old!” and then because the last meal of leaves they had was so successful they demanded they have another:


In summary: Lucas showed up to fire Tyler because of the whole abandoning his job to poke himself inside a 17 year old. Everyone shouts at Piper. Brad and Terese have started growing twirling moustaches for all the plotting they’re about to do to break up Tyler and Piper

Lauren is now hiring actual children to do her dirty work at Harold’s Cafe.

Let’s take a look at the cluster fuck which is Steph, Mark, Sonya and Toadie. We have dead wife Dee marking her territory by pissing in corners at the Rebecchi’s as they sleep at night:

Toadie: Do you smell my dead wife’s perfume.
Sonya: No but I can see that ageless woman with teeth like haunted gravestones pissing in the corner.
Toadie: Cool as long as it’s not the smell of my dead wife all over the house

Sonya has noticed that she isn’t getting the seeing to that she used to from Toadie. She finally confronts him with popcorn and is all “Is it me? Am I doing something wrong?” Yes love. You have. You’re pregnant with another man’s baby. Sonya, baby check yourself.

We also have Steph flirting with baby specialist Vitoria and having The Moment, occasionally referred to as A Moment.

Let’s digress slightly

The Moment. The Moment. Themomentthemomentthemomentthemomentthemoment. I thought when Brad and Lauren got together this phrase would fuck the fuck off. Do you remember? Do you? During their whole non-affair which was really an affair they kept talking about sharing The Moment, that nothing happened, it was only The Moment. Then “having A Moment” became the magic part of meeting someone that only happens in Neighbours. You either have no genital attraction for someone or ALL the genital attraction and when this occurs you have experienced The (A) Moment.

What it really shows is that because Neighbours parents create emotionally stunted and insecure children that then grow up to be emotionally simple adults, they can’t tell the difference between a bit of flirting and finding your lobster. For fucks sake, Steph is edging towards 50 and the way she talks about Victoria it’s like she’s never had a crush before. After one meal she’s questioning everything with Mark. She had The Moment with another human, what should she do? For the love of God, what should she do? Maybe you just have an insatiable vulva Steph. That’s OK, own it, own your vulva.

Prediction update:  Steph will sleep with Victoria. Sonya will join in. Toadie will get revenge by sleeping with Carl. Mark will become so beige that scientists decide to study him.

Gary is doing illegal stuff with cars in a story that will go nowhere. This story is really fucking me off and let me tell you why. Gary has been shown to be a moral person that finds himself in shitty situations. However, here he’s sought out trouble, trouble that could get him back in prison which he wouldn’t do to himself or Xanthe. The Gary we’ve been shown is hard working and doesn’t take shortcuts so why is he doing it here? Lazy storytelling or a long game that will lead to all cars being taken off the roads in Australia and therefore dramatically reduce crime and death on Ramsay Street? You decide.

Paige is pregnant. I would only care about this story if Dee was the father. Which she isn’t. So I don’t.

There we have it another week on the street where Lauren continues to haunt everyone else’s storylines, the Rec Centre magically tripled in size for a game of dodgeball and Dee is yet to say a full sentence. Remember it’s when the dead walk the earth that Neighbours become good friends.

P.S. Here’s a picture of Ned topless. It’s from a story-line with Xanthe doing summer school with a problematic Asian stereotype. Neighbours has a long history of terrible diversity and I just don’t have the energy for it this week.











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