The arrival of the 2 new boys led to high spirits and hi jinx. I nearly choked on my Jacob’s Creek when Laura caught sight of Seany in the lobby and shrieked ‘It’s a clown, he’s a clown’. The poor girl. I dread to think what passes for a circus in the Rhondda valleys.
It was all rather fun until Seany decided to relieve Lesley of her duvet at 4am. That was the last straw for the Grand Dame. She rebuffed the Celtic bed burglar with an air of Bette Davis in All About Eve. She slowly patronised her way out of the house in the longest goodbye since Meg Mortimer sailed off on the QE2 when the Crossroads Motel burned down.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, Seany decided to swipe the love nest from Posh & Pecs. The dreamy duo were relegated to stealing kisses on the Astro turf while Greek and Irish relations improved on the double divan.
For some reason, Gerry and Seany chose the Twins to nominate with them. Had they discovered some skill set we’d missed? The only talent I’ve spotted so far is plaiting hair and jiggling. Talking of hair, Seany has taken to wearing a hair band and a big blousy scarf. I swear he’s morphing into Christine Hamilton.
Carole wasn’t happy about Shabby’s steaming pants stewing in the bath. However Shabs had other things on her mind and opted to run around the garden in a pink feather boa shouting ‘Do I look like I’m jogging’. You couldn’t make this stuff up.
As expected, Charley ran out of fags and made a right racket. We had a budgie once that didn’t like us moving it’s millet spray. Hiding it’s mirror was the only way to shut it up. Take note Big Brother!
Laura has turned into a bitchy bedroom Buddha. She squats on her bed all day offering everyone her opinions. Most of them aimed directly between Ziggy’s shoulder blades.
Nagging Nicky, the Watford Whinger is doing my head in. She says she hates men. The male population of the UK should breathe a sigh of relief.
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