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Please Sir, can I go to the toilet?

11 Dec

Okay, we’ve all been there. Your zombie loving, do-gooding beloved is feeling down in the dumps because they’ve managed to get the local youth radio station shut down after broadcasting unsubstantiated claims of dodgy council dealings over some shopping centre complex and you want to cheer them up by finishing off their rather dull report about some History Wall painting project which they’re submitting as part of an application for a journalist degree. You take advantage of your evil one legged media mogul/hotelier/failed-recruiter-of-now-sacked-insolent-Polish-cleaners-named-Lorraine-to-spy-on-councillors-named-Ajay-Kapoor father’s offer to use the local newspaper’s cutting edge editing suit, not questioning why he wasted his money on software for editing film footage when he runs a newspaper, when, shock horror, you discover that the time-lapse film of the History Wall painting contains footage of your former dancer/assistant in Harold’s/trainee teacher cousin pashing your slightly odd, floppy woolly hatted guitar strumming classmate.

You have a quiet word with your aforementioned cousin in the most public of places and despite your odd Scottish/Aussie accent getting vaguely unintelligible when anxious your cousin catches the gist of what you’re saying and tells you that your beloved can’t possibly use the film as it’ll end their hopes of becoming a teacher. You explain that the speeded up film of wet paint drying is the only way your zombie loving do-gooding significant other can get onto the journalist course, but your cousin couldn’t care less. So you attempt to edit out the pashing section of the time-lapse film, which rather oddly and most inexplicably slows right down at the point of the kiss, but it doesn’t look quite right… not remotely terrible, but not perfect. However, the alternative is to delete the entire film which wouldn’t go down too well with your beloved. So the choice is simple. No-brainer really.

Promotional photo of Boris Karloff from The Br...

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Having explained to Summer that he’d “accidentally” deleted the entire film footage (l know, I know – take it up with the script writers) Andrew’s beloved had a major Frankenstein revising meltdown and in desperation photographed her post-it-note quotes on her phone and left it in some air vent type thing in the school loos so that she could sneakily refer to them during an emergency mid-exam toilet break. Alas one thing led to another which led to vibrating phones, questionable hygiene, hysterical pleadings, perforated stomach ulcers, collapsing loopy-pill-popping-slightly-weird-about-kormas-jealous-of-hand-holding-mechanics-and-rather-attractive-Serbian-beauticians/hairdressers-surfer-dude head teachers, hospital, gay nurses, guilt, anxious waiting and, thankfully for Summer, a minor case of two-minute amnesia. Yep, Michael doesn’t remember discovering Summer’s cheating.

And finally…

Callum’s attempts to get out of his parent-enforced, pay-towards-the-extra-broad-band-required-for-your-online-dragon-quest-game-yourself-you-lazy-little-sod-lesson-teaching paper round were bested by the presumably still green-fingered, recovering something-or-other and less-annoying-of-late Sonya.

Jade and the married Malcolm Kennedy continued to have naked-adult-shenanigans-with-no-strings-attached, apart from a temporary blip when the increasingly smarmy doctor’s son sent her some flowers. The personal trainer, thinking the flowers were from Kyle the absent handyman (the man she secretly loves but is afraid to admit she loves) was proper made up until she discovered Mal had sent them. Unimpressed, she explained to the horny pig keeper that the sending of flowers seriously contravened the whole adult-naked-shenanigans-with-no-strings-attached arrangement and must never happen again.

And what of the floppy hatted, guitar strumming Noah and Kate?” you ask. Well, having somehow magicked himself out of Harold’s when Sophie turned up, he then invited himself to Sophie’s welcome-back-from-music-camp dinner and attempted to con Kate into accompanying Sophie and himself to some guitar strumming gig. “So Noah still hasn’t got the message?” Err, not really no, though Kate foiled his fiendish plan by having Lou accompany him and her sister to the gig instead. What was that? Yes, you’re quite right, ‘magicked’ is an odd looking word.


Last week on Neighbours…

13 Nov
Kate Ramsay

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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

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.

Last week on Neighbours…

29 Aug

It’s been a fairly uneventful week in Ramsay Street this week.

Chris Pappas, former boyfriend of Summer until he suddenly turned gay after seeing Andrew, the oddly accented, ne’er-do-well son of peg leg ‘avast me hearties’ Paul Robinson, semi-naked in the changing room of the gym, is now a bona fide part-time employee of Lucas, mechanic, part-time mechanics teacher, recovering gambler and lately a bit of a miserable sod who has inherited $700,000 from his recently deceased father who never truly understood him. Chris has similar father/son woes as papa Pappas, ashamed of fathering the only gay in Erinsborough, had clung to the hope his son would continue captaining the basketball team and study at uni. Alas, Chris has turned his back on the bigoted bullies of the basketball team and has declared that he wants to become a fully-fledged mechanic when he leaves school.

Sonya, trainer of guide dogs for the blind and recovering something-or-other, has spent most of the week gazing enthusiastically at the rather sad and pathetic looking veggy beds of the Community Garden, and absolutely no time at all training guide dogs for the blind. She goes back and forth from slightly manic, hat wearing hope to tearful, mopy despair as she attempts to get financial backing to purchase the Community Garden and run a nursery, a lifelong dream she’s had for a week or two now. Lucas, desperate to be rid of his father’s money which seems to taunt him in a ‘naah naah na naah naah you can’t cope with so much money you huge disappointment of a son’ sort of way, offered most of it to Sonya. Her joy was short lived however as one thing led to another which led to Toadie feeling less of a man, Sonya handing the cheque back to the miserable mechanic and Toadie reconsidering the offer of the highly paid job that he had turned down a few weeks ago in order to be true to himself.

Dr Karl and Susan Kennedy appeared to be trying to pick up the pieces of their tattered marriage (cleverly mirrored by the picking up and pasting together of the tattered map of Peru). After some emotional jogging and a tearful and rather moving heart-to-heart, Susan admitted that she had got too involved with holding Jim’s hand in a supportive and absolutely non romantic way. Alas, Susan promptly got more involved as Jim asked her to sign a Medical Power of Attorney after he got lost walking through a housing estate he had built, which led to the smarmy Dr Rhys casting aspersions on Susan’s integrity, Karl asking Jim to distance himself from Susan to spare her the hurt, more emotional jogging, Jim distancing himself from Susan (or possibly just lost in a neighbouring housing estate), Susan wondering why Jim hasn’t been in touch, and lots of looking into the middle distance in a guilty kind of way from Dr K.

Jade, personal fitness instructor to anyone who may further the plot, confided to her once sensible yet increasingly annoying sister, Sonya, that she has feelings for her house mate, Kyle the handyman. After several minutes of new heights of annoyingness Sonya suggested she just tell him how she felt. If only to shut her sister up, Jade agreed, and was about to confess the aforementioned feelings to the aforementioned handyman during a cosy dinner for two when they were interrupted by their new house mate and plot furthering client of Jade, Michelle, a flaky florist with a dolphin statue named Mr Watson, who has moved in to help them pay the rent to the slightly deranged owner of Harold’s Store, Lyn Scully (who left Ramsay Street so that her grandson Charlie could spend time with his banged up mother Steph, accidental killer of the singing trainee paramedic Ringo, in a new mother and child friendly prison). Alas, Kyle is still besotted with the lovely Kate, former dancer/full-time assistant in Harold’s Store and occasional trainee teacher when the script writers remember, which led to lots of jealous scowling from Jade and crushed ‘oh woe is me’ type looks from Kyle after he learnt of Kate’s drunken naked shenanigans with the smarmy doctor Rhys.

Sophie, sister of Kate, and Callum, son of Sonya, decided to join music class so that they can one day form their own rock band. After their first percussion lesson, Callum, disillusioned with the tambourine, has decided to join the cooler kids in woodwork. But Sophie, she got rhythm, and has been inspired to stick with it by the mysterious new student, Noah, a semi-mute wearer of floppy woolly hats and caricaturist, who drums on lockers and sits under trees playing self penned tunes on his guitar. Cool.

Trashy Tash, in an attempt to see just how far she has to rebel before her dad, Michael, the surfing head teacher of Erinsborough High, will show her any kind of fatherly concern/love, played some dancing game on the Wii so loudly that everyone in Ramsay Street could hear it in their detached houses with the doors and windows closed (a feat previously matched by Harold’s tuba) and didn’t do her homework. To add to her self made woes, she’s being called a prawn (don’t ask) and as result believes she is ugly, not helped by a caricature of her drawn by the semi mute guitar strumming wearer of floppy woolly hats, Noah.

There were yet more woolly hats when the oddly accented Andrew met some oddly accented backpackers (allegedly French) who needed somewhere cheap to spend the night. Andrew, needing cash to pay towards a deposit for an apartment to stay in during the schoolies and hard up after his dad refused to give him extra pocket money, offered them The Shed (the place where the menfolk of Ramsay Street hang out to drink beer, escape their women, avoid their feelings and do general manly stuff). Alas the French backpackers would only pay him half of what he wanted as they found a “gret beeeg poisoness spiddair”. Sacre bleu!