December 4, 2006
Greetings and welcome to another weekly wotsit of seasonal street splendour. This week the update is getting ready for Christmas and has put up its tree and the fairy's been hoisted.. I’ve also opened the first door on the weekly update advent calendar so let’s see who’s behind it this week. Oooh, lovely, it’s Teddy Sherringham. (Yes, I am reusing last year’s calendar, regular readers may have noticed! And why not? That way, the lovely Teddy never ages although his chocolate’s gone mouldy). And so, as I settle down with a Christmas mince pie and a steaming cup of latte-dah coffee, here we go with this week’s Coronation Street weekly update.
If you'd like your weekly update with pictures and fun Corrie stuff, have a look at : http://coronationstreetupdates.blogspot.com
Norris was much taken with a scrubber this week. And a hot steaming bucket of water as he tried to wash graffiti off the Kabin walls and windows. He reckons it’s little Chesney who’s the culprit but he’s wrong, it’s Ryan Connor - the boy who hasn’t had a storyline but has moped about menacingly in a hoodie, waiting for his moment. Norris is determined to catch the graffiti-ist (is there such as word?) and on the advice of Amber, innit, buys himself a pair of night vision goggles. He’s a scream, looks hilarious and as he spies out of Emily’s front window, what does he see? First off it’s Rita putting the milk bottles out by her front door in her nightie then it’s Tracy Barlow in her bra through her bedroom window. Charlie’s straight over the road to tell Norris he’s a filthy little pervert, while Emily follows Norris around the living room making Hannibal Lechter noises. It all got very surreal.
When Cilla doesn’t return home after spending the night at FIz’s flat, Les and Yana assume that she’s left home so they get comfy together on the sofa. It must have got a bit hot as they had to take off some of their clothes. Chesney walks in and finds his step-dad and his mam’s best mate all undone by the telly but says nowt for now, especially when they find out that Cilla’s got cancer. Even Schmike… Schmeck… Chesney’s big dog l looked upset.
Tracy ups her game plan to get Charlie branded an even worse bad ‘un than the Street regulars already know he is. Shouting and screaming through the paper thin walls so that the Peacocks hear next door does the job nicely and Claire’s concerned enough to tell Deirdre and Ken she’s worried about their daughter. Bev rings the police when plates start smashing against their neighbours walls but it’s only Tracy picking an argument with Charlie over nothing at all. She even locks herself and Amy in the bedroom, pretending that Charlie had locked them in there against their will. Charlie soon figures out what’s going on though and can see through Tracy’s plan.
Christmas decorations go up everywhere this week on the street – in the factory, in the Rovers, around Sean’s head. And it’s the factory Christmas party, always a raucous affair but oddly not this time, oh no. No one snogged the boss or did ‘oops upside your head’ on the factory floor. No one was sick on the cobbles or wore tinsel in their hair. However, Paul Connor’s wife Carla turned up which upset things a little. She’s all tanfastic with expensive hair, the sort that looks like she’s off the set of Footballer’s Wives en route to Holby City. “Do I look like I have ugly mates?” she asks hubby Paul when he asks her if she’s going to get friendly with the factory girls. She could be interesting, we’ll see.
Desperate Dan wants to speak to son Jamie about their feelings for Frankie. The two of them drive off to the moors where Danny threatens to jump off a bridge and end it all. (Was I the only one shouting “Jump!” and “Push him, go on!”?). Jamie saves his dad only to have Danny walk off into the night after signing his wordly goods and assets (factory, flat, flash car, golf jumpers) over to Jamie on the back of an envelope. “Where are you going?” Jamie shouts after his dad as he disappears in the darkness. If he’d had Norris’ night vision googles, he’d know. At the factory, the girls – and Liam - are wondering how they’ll get paid if Danny’s not around to sign their pay cheques. No one seems to know where Danny’s gone and only Jamie and Sean know the truth.
Bill Webster returned which put a smile on Audrey’s face, if no one else’s. Sally wonders what his wife Maureen thinks about him disappearing across Europe every couple of weeks. Bill replies that the secret of a good marriage is space, before dragging Kev out for a drink in the Rovers, leaving Sally to think on.
Speaking of the Rovers, Vernon plays to his strengths and does his best at doing nothing in the pub. Whether it’s a box of mixers needing to be brought up from the cellar, or the pub Chrimbo decorations needing to be put up, Vernon’s your man, if you can find him, which no one ever can. He’s a brilliant feckless so and so, I love watching him on screen. Steve gets cornered by Michelle with mistletoe and they have a snog in the back room until Liz comes in and spies them. Steve’s eyes roll to heaven, Liz tuts and Michelle walks out.
And that’s just about that for this week.
Glenda Young
December 11, 2006
Glad tidings we bring, to you and your computer. Come in, sit down, have a mince pie and welcome to another weekly update. This week the update office is festooned with Christmas lights and blinged up with baubles. And so, without any further ado, here we go with this week’s Coronation Street update.
If you'd like your weekly update with pictures and fun Corrie stuff, have a look at : http://coronationstreetupdates.blogspot.com
“Did your mam just pick up my dad?” asks an astonished Kev to a shocked Gail as Audrey out-brazens herself to go on the pull for Bill Webster. They share a pint in the Rovers before Audrey offers to cook Bill dinner at her place and he’s straight round there, no questions asked and none answered either. Audrey cooks foreign stuff for Bill – Chicken Kiev with Black Forest Gateau and it all got a bit festive when her microwave went ding. Then dong. Then merrily on high. (Sorry, I saw that on a Christmas card this week and I couldn’t resist recycling it. It still makes me chuckle but then I’m easily pleased). Bill takes up Audrey’s kind offer of spending the night there instead of walking home with all that food inside him and he fair nearly knocks her off her feet as he sweeps her out of the kitchen and up the apples and pears to Bedfordshire. The Websters and Platts are shocked by the antics of the saucy soap oaps, a role that Bill and Audrey were made for. “Step on it gorgeous, and take me to your love palace!” yells Bill as he moves in with Audrey and she drives him away in the car. “Bill, mah love, oh, honestlah,” coos Audrey. Ooh, what’ll Bill’s wife Maureen say when she turns up soon? Even Rita calls Audrey brazen.
Violet’s violently sick in the ladies loo at the Rovers and Michelle guesses she’s pregnant. Either that or she’s been eating the pot pourri. She’s pregnant. She’s two months gone and the father is Jamie but she wants to keep it under her hat for now. If she’d done that in the first place she wouldn’t be in this much trouble now.
When Norris finds more graffiti on the street he hits on a plan to nab the culprit again after spying through night vision goggles failed miserably last week. He plays to his strengths and sets up camp in the Kabin and with a flask of hot tea and a packet of midget gems, waits with lights out and baited breath for the spray painting to start. When it does, Norris rushes out of the shop and corners a hoodlum in a hoodie. It’s Ryan Connor, son of Michelle, barmaid of the parish. Norris bundles him into the shop, locks the door and calls the cops but it’s Norris who’s taken in for questioning when Ryan denies all and complains about being kidnapped in the Kabin. Amber summed it up to Norris with: “You can’t lock children in shops. Everyone will think you’re well pervy”. Innit though.
It’s baby Freddie’s christening and godmother Eileen’s in her best bib and tucker for her baptism at the font. Roy’s the godfather after being made an offer he couldn’t refuse. Back at the Peacock’s later there’s some chitchat about godparents when Claire’s mum asked Kev if he was godfather to anyone. Kev replied he sends a tenner in an envelope to his mate Curly’s little lad every now and then. It was nice to hear a mention of Curly, even if it was only fleeting. Roy admitted being godfather to Bethany Platt and Amy Barlow and having coded stickers for birthdays on the Cropper calendar. Ah, bless.
Sophie gets psychic powers as she’s walking down the street. She passes Jack Duckworth and yells out “Vince St Clair” who you might remember was Jack’s alter ego once upon a very long time ago. Then later in the Kabin she calls out the name of that brazen hussy (not Audrey this time) Dulcie Froggatt. Dulcie Froggat, eh? There’s a name that brings back window-cleaning and hanky-panky memories for Jack but how does Sophie know so much?
Charlie tells Tracy he’s sick of her antics and wants her to move out. But after a bit of slap and tickle (he’s fickle) he changes his mind and lets her stay. They pop out to the Rovers for a bite to eat and Claire sees the pair of them being all post-coital in the pub. Tracy knows her plan is going to backfire if she’s not careful so she has to raise her game and make it look as if Charlie is being really evil. Pouring half a bottle of vodka down her neck, she burns herself on her arm with the iron, pretending Charlie’s done it. And remember children, don’t try this at home.
And that’s just about that for this week.
Glenda
December 18, 2006
Merry Christmas and welcome to another weekly update. This week the update comes wassailing (well, it’s had a glass of sherry) and wishes all of its readers the very merriest of times over the festive season. This week the update comes to you in the style of letters written to Santa Claus from the major players on the cobbles during the last week. So settle back, put your feet up, the kettle on and relax and enjoy some seasonal splendour from Glenda. And without any further ado, here we go with this week’s Coronation Street update.
If you'd like your weekly update with pictures and fun Corrie stuff, have a look at : http://coronationstreetupdates.blogspot.com
Dear Santa
Ooh, I feel like all my Christmasses have come at once, Santa luvvie, I reallah do. Sending Bill Webster to keep me warm at night is the best present anyone could have given me, it reallah is. I won’t keep you long, Santa, as I know you’ve got all them loveleh little kiddies to get presents to, but yes, mah luv, I am fully aware that Bill’s married. And where is his wife, mah luv, umm? And if she does return and Bill goes back to her, well there’s plenty more men on the cobbles! Come to think of it, what are you doing later? Come into the salon mah luv and I’ll give your beard a bit of a trim. Eh? Umm?
Audrey Roberts (widowed, single, available for parties and barmitzvahs).
Dear Santa
Well, I was right over the moon when the doc gave me the all clear on the cancer. I tell you I was that relieved - so I snogged the doc right there in his consulting room. Who needs mistletoe when you feel this happy, eh? So I get home, full of the joys, only to have little Ches in tears telling me that Les and Yana have been up to no good behind my back while I’ve been ill. Right. I wasn’t having this, so I stormed to the pub where the pair of them, brazen as you like, were sitting having a drink. Fiz and Ches followed me in, I hate it when them bleedin’ kids do that. Anyway Santa, I sat down opposite my cheating husband and my no good best mate and fibbed my head off like I’ve never fibbed before. I told them the cancer was terminal and I was going to die. “The next few weeks are going to be very difficult for you” I told Les and I put my sad face on. He hasn’t a clue what I meant though. And then Fiz and Ches burst into tears thinking I was going to die. How did the pair of them ever get to be so thick? Soft articles. So then Les is going on about how he’ll do anything to make my last few months on earth a living paradise and I tell him straight, I want to swim with dolphins in Florida. And before you can say ‘flipper’ he’s took himself off the booze and fags and he’s only gone and set up the Cilla Dolphin fund in our front room. Even the bleedin’ regulars in the pub are collecting for me and the cabbies have donated their Christmas bonuses. But do I feel guilty? Do I ‘eck. That daft bozo Les is going on and on about ‘is there anything else you want’ my dear Cilla this and my darling Cilla that so I tell him yes. Les, there is. I want Les and Yana sitting in a bath full of beans outside the pub on Christmas Eve to raise dosh for the dophin fund. And the daft beggars have agreed. Mind you, I’m sure I heard Steve McDonald say in the pub: “If you ask me, I reckon it’s the dolphins we should be collectin’ for!” but I can’t say for sure that I heard him right.
PS: Any chance you can you bring me some new tanfastic spray tan for Chrimbo? Variety No 57, baked bean orange will do, ta chuck.
Cilla Battersby-Brown.
Dear Santa
Can you bring me some goose fat for Christmas? I’ve been looking for it everywhere, it’s the must-have thing this Christmas says that bird on the telly who does the cooking but I think Brylcreem will work just as well. Anyway, I don’t want anything this Christmas but can you bring something to cheer Fiz up ‘cos she’s just found out her mam’s dying of cancer. So bring Fiz something really nice like a new handbag but not one in the shape of a dog, car or watering can, ‘cos she’s got them already.
PS: Is it true you can eat reindeer poo?
Kirk Sutherland
Right Santa, listen up
I want a new iron, right, ‘cos the one I’ve got has bits of skin stuck on it. Well, I burned my arm, didn’t I? I had no choice. Everyone was starting to think Charlie wasn’t as bad as I want them to think he is so the burn on my arm with the iron might just do the trick and make people feel sorry enough for me. Oh yeah, and bring some stuff for the little ‘un - dolls, toys and crap like that.
Tracy Barlow
Dear Santa
It’s doing me head in, mate, it really is. I fell in love with my step-mum, me dad’s gone missing and me ex-girlfriend Violet’s up the duff. Can you wave a magic wand this Christmas and make me disappear? Everyone’s gossiping about it and I hate it. Even me brother Warren knows all about it in Spain but I don’t think he’ll tell anyone and even if he did no one would understand. Not ‘cos he can’t speak Spanish but ‘cos he’s a bit thick. Still, he might have got the looks in our family but I got our mum! Granny Viv’s turned up looking like she’s stumbled onto the wrong soap. I tell you man, it’s heavy. We had to go to the cop shop and report Danny missing and they tell us they had a body in the morgue fitting dad’s description. It weren’t him but granny Viv had to take herself off to the pub to calm her nerves, mate. I tell you, me and Frankie had to get there quick to stop anyone from telling her before we got a chance to break the news. It’s just as well she had a double brandy in front of her ‘cos it ain’t every day a granny finds out her grandson’s been sleeping with her daughter-in-law. Sad thing is, she’s gonna tell the cops.
PS: How long does it take to grow a beard like yours? I’ve only got a ten o’clock shadow and I’ve been trying for three months.
Jamie Baldwin
Hiya Santa Babe!!!!!!!
Me and Chesney’s having a right laugh with an old diary we found in Ches’ attic. You should’ve seen the look on Betty’s face in Roy’s caff when I pretended I was psychic and I could see a gold chain around her neck. ‘Cos the diary said she used to be Lady Mayoress or something. It was well wicked! Jack nearly choked on his bacon sarnie. I luv winding up the oldies, me. I had a go at Rita in the Kabin when I told her I knew all about Alan Bradley. She went ballistic, it woz fab. Anyway, Santa, I luv ya loadz and I wonder if I can have a new sister for Christmas ‘cos our Rosie’s well mingin!
Luv from Sophie Webster!!!!!!!! xxx
Dear Shanta Claush
Ashley and Clare have kicked me out to go and live with our Shelley. Any chance of another bottle of gin?
Merry Christmash from Bev Unwin.
And that’s just about that for this week. See you again sometime before the New Year!
Glenda
