Archive | November, 2011

The Personal Trainer and the Pig Keeper

27 Nov

Once upon a time a smarmy Doctor Rhys Lawson invited some work colleagues, his house mates and a few neighbours round to a barbecue party thrown in honour of his general wonderfulness. A time of great merriment was had by all but a married, naked-adult-shenaniganly frustrated pig keeper named Malcolm Kennedy and a feisty personal trainer named Jade.

The pig keeper, having travelled far in a noble quest to save the marriage of his beloved parents, had been parted from his wife, the fair Catherine of England, for many a long month and had begun to lust after the feisty personal trainer. Yet the personal trainer, who had ’til then playfully encouraged such lustings, did now reject the horny pig keeper, choosing the companionship of the gay, Spice Girl loving nurse named Aiden instead.

For the heart of the personal trainer did belong to a handyman named Kyle, a handyman with whom she had had secret knowings in the Biblical sense with absolutely no strings attached, a handyman who had later professed to her feelings of love, a handyman whom she had spurned for she did have like major personal issues, a handyman who had departed Ramsay Street to mop the feverish brow of his buxom malaria suffering mother.

Now the dastardly Doctor Rhys “Freud” Lawson, knowing of the personal trainer’s secret love for the absent handyman, did smugly suggest that the spurning of the man she did truly love resulted from a fear of intimacy and abandonment. Alas, such smug suggestions did not lead to the smiting of the smarmy doctor and the uniting of the handyman and the personal trainer in mutual, heartwarming besottedness but to illicit late night naked adult shenanigans between the horny pig keeper and the confused personal trainer.

Oh how the personal trainer did secretly regret her actions. Oh, how the grinning horny pig keeper did not. Oh when wouldst the feisty personal trainer ever listen to her heart and profess her love for the simple handyman and live happily ever after? Oh dear reader, t’will be nigh on threescore and ten years yet.

Noah and the Wail

20 Nov

Grief induced snogging

Pin Oak Court, Vermont South, the filming loca...

Image via Wikipedia

Poor old Kate Ramsay, the former dancing trainee teacher/assistant in Harold’s Store, was led to the Police Station by Toadie to learn the devastating truth: that the only handsome-in-an-obvious-sort-of-way detective with OCD she’d ever loved, Mark Brennan, had snuffed it. Well, shocked disbelief led, as it so often does, to the devastating grief of the barefooted, vision skewing, sister shouting, late night umm-haha-heee-haha-can-you-guess-what-it-is-yet wall painting, time-lapse-capturing, floppy woolly hatted Ark Boy snogging kind… and a wail of utter disbelief from at least one viewer.

Naturally attempts to explain to the besotted, ever-so-slightly creepy, guitar strumming and no longer be-hatted student that it was all a terrible, terrible mistake, didn’t mean a thing and must never be spoken of again all took place in the most private of places, Harold’s and the corridors of Erinsborough High, and had absolutely no effect whatsoever. The smitten and artistic Noah continued to grin besottedly and rather distractingly at his beloved, causing a perturbed Kate to have a minor flashback-inducing melt down during her uni-examiner-assessed history lesson. I dread to think how she’ll react when she remembers the time-lapse camera.

Sick, well endowed mothers and Council corruption

Kyle the handyman suddenly departed to take care of his cosmetically-enhanced-on-the-cheap, malaria suffering mother (don’t ask) leaving his plain speaking, blonde highlighted and never-referred-to-before cousin Dane Canning to take care of the threatened Dial-a-Kyle business. Hearing a rumour that permission for the shopping centre project had come about as a result of council bribery and corruption (surely not), Dane went straight to the evil, shiver-me-timbers, Erinsborough News owning Long Paul Robinson and the ever-so-annoying Summer Hoyland (who is desperate to put together an exciting report as part of her application for some journalist course as she’s like so bored of the History Wall and hasn’t spotted the time-lapse footage of Kate kissing Noah). Unable to substantiate such bribery rumours and fearing suings, the cunning Darth Paul sat back and allowed the do-gooding Zombie loving Hoyland to break the news on Piratenet (and take any flak from the Council) in the hope that it may scupper the whole shopping centre project. Nice.

Tiaras and tantrums

Michael Williams, the increasingly loopy, insomnia suffering, deceased damp wife seeing, therapist visiting, surfer-dude head teacher of Erinsborough High, finally decided to sit Tash down and tell her the truth. “What?” you cry, “he finally revealed the dark and mysterious, father-daughter relationship shattering secret concerning the death of her former beauty queen mother?” Err…no. He told her he’s seeing a therapist. Yes, you’re quite right, she already knew that. But he didn’t know that she knew that. He also didn’t know that she knew all about her aunty, the rather attractive, conveniently-unreliable-when-the-plot-requires-it-Austin-Healey-Sprite-named-Pearl driving, leaver of early birthday presents on doorsteps with cards signed “E xxx”, Serbian hairdresser/beautician, Emilia Jovanovic. He knows now though (he read the card and unwrapped the prezzy – the tiara of the deceased former beauty queen). Unfortunately such knowings did not lead to reunited brother and sister-in-law type hugs (do they ever?) but to stay-away-from-my-daughter-type-threats and hopefully an end to the therapy as it clearly isn’t working.

And finally…

Minor details which should be casually mentioned by those of you who don’t watch the show but want to blag your way through a conversation with your tad suspicious Neighbours obsessed boss, kids or students:

“And what about Dr K spotting the flirting between the personal trainer and the married Malcolm Kennedy?”

“Barbecue blackmail can never be condoned”

“Susan’s really doing my head in with her husband bashing, wi-fi winging.”

“Wasn’t the flirty mechanic/Serbian beautician chest waxing sweet?”

“Why the hell hasn’t Kate got shot of that rose drawing from Ark Boy?”

“Loved the golf!”

Last week on Neighbours…

13 Nov
Kate Ramsay

Image via Wikipedia

Missed Neighbours last week? Then you missed a new fady-scene-transition-type effect and slow motion tree planting. You also missed…

Forbidden flirting

Mal Kennedy and Jade the personal trainer continued to exchange longing looks and engaged in a bit of flirty football playing while a spurned Kyle the handyman continued to mope.

Reckless revising

Andrew, Robinson, the oddly Aussie/Scottish accented son of Darth Paul, advised mood food expert Chris Pappas to revise for his exams in order to keep his “orptions orpen” (the pie scoffing Chris had decided to concentrate on fixing cars rather than study in the belief that failing his exams would scupper Pappa Pappas’s plans to pack him off to uni).

A heartbroken hubby

Susan and Karl invited Toadie and Sonya over for a roast dinner to break the devastating news that they had decided to separate (again) but reassured them it was all very amicable (Susan still regards Karl as her bestest friend in the whole wide world). Alas, a crushed and heartbroken Dr K, fighting back the tears, later told his deluded wife that he couldn’t bear to live in the same street as her, let alone be her friend.

The continuing saga of the student-trainee teacher crush

Andrew Robinson once more warned his cousin, the former dancing trainee teacher and assistant in Harold’s Store Kate Ramsay, that the guitar strumming floppy woolly hatted Noah was hopelessly besotted with her. The perceptive-as-ever Kate dismissed such claims as ludicrous and then smiled innocently at Ark Boy as he serenaded her with a newly penned tune about his love for a former dancing, trainee teacher and assistant in Harold’s named Kate.

Dark surfer-dude secrets

Tash was whisked off to Charlie’s by her Serbian hairdressing aunty, Emilia Jovanovic, part way through a mock exam (long story) and discovered… brace yourselves… she twiddles her hair like her mum. “What?” you cry, “was that it?” Well no, to be fair she did ask Emilia how her mum had died. And what did her rather attractive Serbian hairdressing aunty tell her? Err… that she should talk to her dad. Rather than quizzing Michael, her increasingly crazy surfer-dude head teacher father (he’s still having visions of his damp and deceased former beauty queen wife and has now started seeing a therapist – a real one, not imaginary), Tash has decided to apply for her mum’s death certificate when she turns 18 in a few weeks time.

Deceased detectives and overly hysterical horticulturists

And finally… Kate decided it was time to sell the motorbike of her former love, Mark Brennan the handsome-in-an-obvious-sort-of-way detective with OCD, who was driven off into the night many months ago by a dodgy Scottish detective as part of a police witness protection programme to live who knows where as who knows who doing who knows what. Such a simple decision would have been fine had it not been for the interference of Toadie and his overemotional mac wearing green fingered beloved Sonya who have known for some time now that Brennan had snuffed it (allegedly). One thing led to another which led to the solemn secret planting of a tree in memory of the deceased detective, an inquisitive Callum, the hysterical blurting of dead detective secrets, a devastated Callum, the return of the dodgy Scottish detective, a self righteous-in-a-you-want-to-give-him-a-good-slap-kind-of-way lawyer, and a decision to end all the misery inducing secrecy by leading the blissfully ignorant and happy Kate to the Police Station to learn the awful misery inducing truth.

Puzzle of the week

How come Toadie and Sonya hadn’t already learned of Karl and Susan’s separation when Summer, Mal, Kate, Paul and Andrew have known for a week or two?

Subtlest plot signposting of the week

Given the number of times a certain time-lapse camera Summer rigged up to film the painting of the History Wall has been ever-so-subtly mentioned of late (what’s that?… a camera… a camera?… yes a camera… do we have to turn it off?… no, it’s filming all the time… all the time?… yes, all the time) I think it’s safe to assume it’ll play some pivotal role in the future.

Neighbours, everybody needs good neighbours…

7 Nov
Neighbours

Image by Squirmelia via Flickr

Dark surfer-dude secrets

Tash “Christine Pappas” Williams, daughter of the increasingly loopy surfer dude head teacher of Erinsborough High, Michael (he’s still experiencing visions of his deceased and rather damp former beauty queen wife, Helena), cunningly quizzed her recently discovered Serbian aunty, Emilia Jovanovic, whilst having her hair done and found out… brace yourselves…. absolutely nothing (sorry). Yet all was not completely lost as the vaguely perceptive hairdresser (she’d twigged Tash wasn’t a model) later noticed that the debit card “Christine Pappas” had used to pay for her services was actually registered in the name of Natasha Williams. One thing presumably led to another which most definitely led to secret observings of long lost nieces from blue 1967 Austin Healey Sprites, the spotting of no longer secret observings from blue 1967 Austin Healey Sprites by long lost nieces and speedy getaways in aforementioned blue 1967 Austin Healey Sprites.

Greek tragedy

Pappa Pappas discovered that his son Chris had arranged to do an apprenticeship at the garage of Lucas the former motor bike racing champion/exhibiting photographer/gambler/mechanic rather than going to uni. Alas, such discoveries did not lead to touching “I’m proud of you son” hugs but to the shouting of recycled angry Greek father dialogue that has been shouted many times before, the cuffing of an ungrateful son’s ear, the punching of Pappa Pappas, attempts to smooth things over, tales of hard working grandpappa Pappases, and a disgruntled Chris who was advised to focus a bit more on his studies by the mechanic in an attempt to keep Pappa Pappas vaguely pacified (hmm, good luck).

Marriages on the rocks

Susan Kennedy returned from Anglesea and casually broke the news during tea that she and Karl had decided to separate. Oh the shock. Oh the horror. Oh gawd, not again. It seems she and Karl both want different things in life. He wants to spend more time alone with his wife, enjoying their new found freedom from pesky teenagers (Summer doesn’t count for some reason). Susan wants to hold the hands of complete strangers in an absolutely non romantic way, fuss over unrelated pesky teenagers and pursue her high powered journalistic career. Mal hasn’t taken the news of his parents’ separation very well and has cancelled his flight to London in order to try and save their marriage ironically putting his own marriage in jeopardy as he’s becoming rather smitten by the alluring jogging and warm-up stretches of Jade the personal trainer.

Shopping centre woes and unrequited love

And finally… The evil hotelier’s cunning plan to scupper the proposed new shopping centre looks like it may have been scuppered by Toadie’s cunning plan to save the proposed new shopping centre. Lou Carpenter, who has a large stake in Kyle the handyman’s business (monetary rather than the wooden, vampire killing/propping trees up kind), is keen to sell up and even Lucas hasn’t ruled it out. This has not gone down well with the aforementioned handyman who turned to the only person who truly understands him, Jade the personal trainer. What’s more, Kyle’s decided that he loves her (yes it was rather sudden). “What luck!” you cry for Jade has been experiencing feelings of lovelorn mopiness for the handyman for months but had settled for secret no-strings-attached-naked-adult-shenanigans with him instead. So did Kyle reveal his feelings to Jade? Well, rather surprisingly he did. Then the personal trainer and the handyman have finally been united in mutual blissful besottedness? Err… no. Jade “I’m afraid to love” Mitchell told a crushed Kyle she did not share such feelings (her soppy lovestruck gazing at handyman flashbacks would suggest otherwise) and is now flirting recklessly with the married Malcolm Kennedy. Exasperating isn’t it?

Highlight of the week: There was absolutely no guitar strumming by sullen sisters or floppy woolly hatted youths whatsoever. Sweet.