There was a scene in Neighbours last night where a girl called Carmella taunted that nice Irish one by pretending to be talking to a boyfriend on her telephone in front of him. The scene’s punchline was the revelation that she had actually only phoned the speaking clock.
What a stupid girl she must be. Everyone knows you don’t actually have to phone somebody to pretend to be talking to a boyfriend on your mobile. And having a long imaginary conversation with the speaking clock is one way to ensure that your phone bill rockets.
The incident took place in Daphne’s coffee shop, only it hasn’t been called that for a while, and I can’t help feeling that Des would be upset. (Des was Daphne‘s husband, before she copped it in a harrowing car crash. My little sister used to call him Desk.)
I don’t regularly watch the programme now that it isn’t the 1980s, but from what I can make out it seems to have recently embraced storylines involving incest, lesbianism and sex-obsessed Italian film stars. Funny to think that the most controversial thing it contained in the good old days was Kylie Minogue wearing dungarees…