And so the continuous codswallop ensues ... You know that something's stinking rotten in the state of Denmark (it can be smelled that far away) when the highlight of an episode of EastEnders is the departure of an unpopular character who's outstayed his welcome by two years and the return of another equally unpopular character, who's reviled - not only reviled, but played by ...
THE. WORST. ACTRESS. EVER. TO. APPEAR. IN. EASTENDERS.
It's only mete and proper that EastEnders' worst actress should be told by TPTB (Kirkwood regime) to begin a make-believe relationship with the show's worst actor ever, in an effort to validate his character's importance. Well, obviously the Newman regime (before the BBC wisely implemented a long-awaited coup d'etat), thought the celebrated thespian, Mr Discipline, past his sell-by date, and so they instructed the show's resident beard the so-called actress-in-question to terminate the fairytale relationship.
However, Kirkwood's Discipline is Newman's Witts and rumour has it that the PR department has duly instructed their very own Girl from U.N.C.L.E. (as in "Untalented Narcissistic Creature Loving 'Erself") to cosy up to Mr Witts and validate his steroidically enhanced presence on the show, which serves about as much purpose as hers does.
When have you ever known EastEnders to boast of such a talented cast (Coulson, Coonan, McFaccen, John Shepherd, Wood etc) and at the same time to have such heaping amounts of horseshit as well (with apologies to horseshit).
On a recent video blog Khali Best did for the EastEnders' website, Jacqueline Jossa's parting show was her regret that she didn't attend a proper drama school, but then she added, "I still could though, couldn't I?"
Indeed, she could. Let's hope Dominic Treadwell Collins gives her the opportunity by showing her something nice and shiny. It's called an axe.
This was a nothing episode about nothing in particular. Tyler left. At last.
Let's have a little Sinatra, anyway. Always better than the tripe I've just watched.
The Long Good-Bye.
God knows I thought this day would never come, the day that Tyler Moon left Walford. If Newman isn't remember for anything else, she should be given credit for finally admitting what 99.44% of EastEnders' fans knew in their hearts - that Tyler Moon was surplus to requirements, that he was played by an actor hired entirely for his looks, with no acting experience or any sort of dramatic training, a pudgy boy who walked right away from Billingsgate Fish Market onto what was then the flagship programme for the BBC.
And he was one of the reasons the show started to stink to high heaven.
When the Moon brothers first appeared, it didn't take the viewers long to suss that there was nothing behind a couple of pretty faces. Discipline and Lapinskas were hired to appeal to teenaged girls of lower intellect who watched the show to look at pretty faces and didn't understand or care about characterisation. In the beginning, Discipline was required to take his shirt off a couple of times.
The last time, at Christmas, we saw a beer gut.
Those of us who'd watched the show for many years, didn't expect him to last past one year, especially when he was charged with and tried for GBH. He survived that, and whilst Matt Lapinskas, a marginally more talented actor, was axed, Discipline stayed.
Kirkwood tried - Jesus Christ, how he tried - to foist Tony Discipline and Shona McGarty on us as the new, loveable ingenue couple we all wanted to see together. The first quarter of 2012 began with Whitney kissing Tyler on New Year's Day evening, as Pat lay dying, and ended with Whitney dumping Fatboy and accepting Tyler laden with flowers and balloons.
By that time, the outcry of indignation at how unlikeable this smug couple was was so severe, that Tyler Moon was consigned to the role of background character for the rest of the year.
Here's a reminder of from whence our lad came and to where his talent will lead him again:-
This is really Tony Discipline, the fishmonger's boy!
The end finally came tonight, and TPTB and their Emmerdale writer (yet another soul who doesn't understand the programme or its ethos) tried - again, oh God, how they tried! - to send Tyler, who was supposed to be too-cool-for-school out in style, behind the wheel of a fire engine red Ferrari.
It didn't work.
It was obvious that Bryan Kirkwood intended Discipline and Lapinskas to be younger versions of the Mitchell brothers, as seen from this promotional video. You can see how much of an epic fail these two were.
Tyler, it seems, in the space of a day, has been offered a job (by Anthony - pronounced "Annannee") on a cruise ship. This is why Tyler can't be Alfie's best man at his Valentine's Day wedding which isn't going to happen. So there's no real reason for Tyler to return, is there?
(Poor Matt Lapinskas, who wanted a return to EastEnders so badly he could taste the food at Elstree Studios cafeteria, that he predicted Annannee would be asked back for Tyler and Shitney's wedding).
Alfie doesn't want Tyler to go and advises him not to let his heartbreak over Whitney make him leave the Square. Michael Moon, whom Alfie rightly describes as being "the weirdest man on the planet" advises him to leave, see the world, have some adventures. Get out.
That's the smartest thing Michael's said all the time he's been on the show. He even affects Anthony's departure in style, by finding out that Danny's leased the flash Ferrari and that he's behind in the payments on the leasehold. Ironic that Tyler leaves in the same way Annannee was introduced - by pretending to be an official that he wasn't. Tyler helped Michael get one up on Danny Pennant by "repossessing" his car, and he left the Square en route to the airport, in the Testarossa.
Most of Tyler's leaving line was a mishmash of nothing, mostly Tony Discipline practicing his smell-the-fart acting technique as he mulled over the pros and cons of leaving the Square.
The deciding factor and probably the best scene in what was a most mediocre of mediocre episodes was when Tyler ran into Whitney in the pub and intimated that he was thinking of leaving the Square.
Whitney: Tyler, you don't have to leave Walford because of me.
Tyler: Everyfink isn't always about you, Whit.
Actually, that was a brilliant put-down and a demonstration of just how much Whitney is filled with her own self-importance. She was probably creaming her fetid, unwashed knickers at the thought of some poor bastard, broken-hearted at her abandonment of his affections, leaving the Square forever because of her.
Later, however, there was a bit of a retorted comeback, when she ran after him, haltingly telling him I couldn't let you go (pausing just long enough to give the poor sonofabitch enough hope actually to get out of the Ferrari in the hopes that the Walford mattress wanted him back ...
... without saying good-bye.
(Alternate meaning: Fuck you, fatso! You see, it is all about me, and you want it!)
Well, his declaration of love at the end of that scene actually made her look small - if you can overlook the shitty acting by both actors, one of whom has no talent and the other is simply lazy and entitled.
This is it. This really is the end, my friend. No more Tyler Moon, even though he and his ilk were amongst some of the main reason the show started hemorrhaging viewers. One yoof down, many more to go.
Good-bye, Tyler. Don't let the door hit your fat arse as you leave.
Observation:Whitney's now a certified nursery nurse? With a gold star no less. Maybe now she's somewhat of a professional in childcare, she'll make an effort not to look so much like a professional prostitute.
Interlude 1: It's All Good In Da Hood.
This was supposed to be funny, but guess what? It wasn't.
Poopy worried about the new owner of the Salon elbowing her out of a job, so she's making a list and checking it twice, compiling a plethora of weird and wonderful 'elf'n beauty treatments which would probably result in someone being hospitalised at best and deformed at worst, if left to Poppy's wittering temperament and insipidity.
Discussing colonic irrigation whilst your boyfriend tries to eat a sausage for his breakfast is one thing, but the thought of Poopy-la-Dim actually administering such a treatment is positively frightening.
Poopy decides to teach herself how to do permanent eyelash extensions. Her only problem is that she's got to have a guinea pig on whom to experiment. She gets short shrift from the hoary old trout, AKA Cora-the-Bora, and Carol doesn't have a few hours to spare.
Well, you know exactly where this piece is going before it gets there. You just know that inevitably Poopy-La-Dim was going to contrive to findn some way to experiment on Fatboy.
Tee-hee-hee-haha, Fatboy - who's suddenly become a BFF of Tyler (when, exactly? being a friend of Tyler Moon is like being a card-carrying member of The Friends of the Friendless), is summoned by Alfie to come cheer Tyler up.
So we're treated to the ubiquitous off-screen audio scene with dialogue exhibiting multiple double entendres, only to see Fatboy emerge wearing shades on a cloudy day, which he refuses to remove in the Vic, until he relents for Alfie's benefit, only to reveal that Fatboy was sporting one eye with permanent eyelash extensions. Like a Ladyboy, according to Alfie.
Not funny. Totally (or totes, as Poopy-La-Dim would say). When will this lot at EastEnders realise that the people who are supposed to be funny ... simply aren't.
Interlude 2: Two Moons for the Misbegotten.
Yep, the beat goes on, and just like we know that Alfie and Kat will reunite, we know that Michael Moon is leaving, so we can't invest any sort of interest in any mind games he chooses to play with Janine.
I can't even be bothered to wonder if he's jealous of Danny's obvious interest in her and her association with him or if he's secretly attracted to Danny, himself, and is jealous of Janine's potential interest.
I don't think - at least I hope it's not a love triangle. Again. And I suppose the uncertaintly of that situation adds to the uniqueness of the entire situation.
One thing for certain and that's the fact that possession of Scarlett is now secondary to a weird couple trying to out-manoeuvre one another to score points and get sexually turned onto such a point they'll inevitably end up in bed with one another. Yet again.
So Janine's remark tonight about someone using sex in order to manipulate another person was both pointed and prescient. It shows that she's still aware exactly of what Michael achieved for a time and was still trying to achieve with her, and it sent out a warning across the ramparts that she recognises Danny's ilk - that he will, indeed, do whatever he wants in order to achieve his end.
That Michael managed to expose Danny's Emperor's New Clothes as just a sham right at the moment when Janine was seeking to clinch a major property deal with someone who appeared to be Julian Assange, not only backfired on Danny, but also Michael, when Janine reacted by sending them both away with appropriate fleas in their ears - Michael not to interfere and Danny to find another investor for Janine's property portfolio.
I like Janine. She's a strong and independent woman - at the moment. She's exactly the sort of woman who doesn't need a man in her life on whom to depend in order to validate her existence. The one thing Bryan Kirkwood did get right was Janine's overdue character development, and I hope DTC continues this pattern.
What I especially liked about tonight's episode was the unusually good interaction between Billy - a welcome sight back - and Lucy Beale. Lucy's so much better a character away from the Lauren-Whitney toxic blend. It was nice to see her actually being civil to Billy, drinking with him in the pub and bantering with him.
Lines of the night:-
Billy: I'm Executive Director of Operations.
Lucy: Just what exactly does the executive director of operations do, Billy?
Billy: Err ... direct operations executively.
Lucy plays on Billy's ego and position by telling him that Janine had told her to organise a meeting of the cleaners at the R and R, which became euphemistic for meaning that none of the cleaners had shown up today, so she'd better crack on cleaning the club. When Billy undertook to "chair" the meeting, leaving Lucy free, he ended up mopping the floors, himself.
When Lucy came by to check up on him, she declined to help as she had to "collect rents" for Janine, at which point Billy jumps up and dashes off to do the job, himself, thus suffering all manner of verbal abuse, probably, and yet again, saving Lucy from an unpleasant task.
The mind game scenario between Michael and Janine, sometimes involving Alice and now often involving Danny, is getting tiresome. I have to say - although I like Charlie Brooks's longer hairstyle.
And The Star of the Show ...
We had to suffer yet another round of Max and Kirsty too-ing and fro-ing, the inevitable and predictable misunderstanding of Max, having been wound up by something Carl didn't say and having the inevitable showdown about Kirsty's trustworthiness.
Cora-the-Bora is a skanky old wrinklebitch. Kirsty, for what it's worth, is still Max's wife. Cora's needling Max, and she's needling Kirsty. What exactly does she want? Max to repudiate Kirsty and live a life of celibacy, complete with hairshirt and public penance for the sin of sinning against Saint Tanya? Tanya's gone. She's happy. She's away from Max, and she's probably found another sucker with a fat wallet, so maybe Cora should shut her fetid mouth.
I'm glad Kirsty gave her what-for in the launderette, and let her know that she knew the foul tricks she'd been pulling with Kirsty's laundry.
The core issue, understandably, with Max, is whether or not he can trust Kirsty, after the little white pregnancy lie she told him; but that's like the pot calling the kettle black. Max is a serial adulterer. How honest is that? His own wife was a liar, a cheat and an attempted murderess.
And tonight, we learned that Max knew Kirsty for precisely one hour, before they were in bed together; and that they were happy with each other, until he decided to attend to Tanya's cancer cold. However, at the time they met, Max was, thanks to Lauren's dictate that Max forever be exiled from Walford, a single man.
So when Max pulls Kirsty into his house, for a bit of 'ow's yer favah, who should be there to greet him but ...
The Star Of Our Show ... The Go-To Girl, Herself ...
Lauren.
Now, consider this: detox in a medical clinic is a long and difficult process, which EastEnders have got all wrong. Again.
When people are committed to an addiction clinic, they are removed, exclusively, from their family unit and their friends. They are not allowed physical contact with any of their loved ones, and minimal phone contact, which has to be approved. They are scrubbed clean of any make-up, scent, jewelry etc, the aim being to strip them down to the barest essentials of their personalities, removing any psychological barriers, to force them to confront the problems which contribute to and encourage their addictive behaviours.
This process takes months, sometimes as much as nearly a year.
Yet, there she was bouncing out the kitchen door tonight, fresh from a rehab clinic ... Lauren.
She was sporting a golden tan and her hair had fresh highlights.
That's not something you get, even at the most exclusive clinic. Not even at The Priory.
Shit, it was obvious this was filmed a couple of weeks after Jossa had returned from her exclusive lujo holiday to Mexico's Caribbean coast with her cousin. Obviously, TPTB reckon on her having some modicum of common sense, because obviously no one thought that the shallow, self-centred little bitch would need to be reminded that when she returned to filming that Lauren would just have been released from the clinic where she wouldn't have had access to sunbathing or sunbeds and no hairdresser to give her expensive highlights.
A month in rehab and she's out and about? She wouldn't have had any money, and - I daresay - Tanya wouldn't have approved of her returning to Walford. In fact, the Tanya of old would have been in hot pursuit; but there she is, larger than life, ready for windmill arm action, gurning, screeching, gurning, funny voices and gurning some more.
Shit actress. No talent. And I hope Treadwell Collins sees as much for himself.
This is the only award this piece of tripe should ever be receiving ...
Wake me up when the storylines start.
THE. WORST. ACTRESS. EVER. TO. APPEAR. IN. EASTENDERS.
However, Kirkwood's Discipline is Newman's Witts and rumour has it that the PR department has duly instructed their very own Girl from U.N.C.L.E. (as in "Untalented Narcissistic Creature Loving 'Erself") to cosy up to Mr Witts and validate his steroidically enhanced presence on the show, which serves about as much purpose as hers does.
When have you ever known EastEnders to boast of such a talented cast (Coulson, Coonan, McFaccen, John Shepherd, Wood etc) and at the same time to have such heaping amounts of horseshit as well (with apologies to horseshit).
On a recent video blog Khali Best did for the EastEnders' website, Jacqueline Jossa's parting show was her regret that she didn't attend a proper drama school, but then she added, "I still could though, couldn't I?"
Indeed, she could. Let's hope Dominic Treadwell Collins gives her the opportunity by showing her something nice and shiny. It's called an axe.
This was a nothing episode about nothing in particular. Tyler left. At last.
Let's have a little Sinatra, anyway. Always better than the tripe I've just watched.
The Long Good-Bye.
God knows I thought this day would never come, the day that Tyler Moon left Walford. If Newman isn't remember for anything else, she should be given credit for finally admitting what 99.44% of EastEnders' fans knew in their hearts - that Tyler Moon was surplus to requirements, that he was played by an actor hired entirely for his looks, with no acting experience or any sort of dramatic training, a pudgy boy who walked right away from Billingsgate Fish Market onto what was then the flagship programme for the BBC.
And he was one of the reasons the show started to stink to high heaven.
When the Moon brothers first appeared, it didn't take the viewers long to suss that there was nothing behind a couple of pretty faces. Discipline and Lapinskas were hired to appeal to teenaged girls of lower intellect who watched the show to look at pretty faces and didn't understand or care about characterisation. In the beginning, Discipline was required to take his shirt off a couple of times.
The last time, at Christmas, we saw a beer gut.
Those of us who'd watched the show for many years, didn't expect him to last past one year, especially when he was charged with and tried for GBH. He survived that, and whilst Matt Lapinskas, a marginally more talented actor, was axed, Discipline stayed.
Kirkwood tried - Jesus Christ, how he tried - to foist Tony Discipline and Shona McGarty on us as the new, loveable ingenue couple we all wanted to see together. The first quarter of 2012 began with Whitney kissing Tyler on New Year's Day evening, as Pat lay dying, and ended with Whitney dumping Fatboy and accepting Tyler laden with flowers and balloons.
By that time, the outcry of indignation at how unlikeable this smug couple was was so severe, that Tyler Moon was consigned to the role of background character for the rest of the year.
Here's a reminder of from whence our lad came and to where his talent will lead him again:-
This is really Tony Discipline, the fishmonger's boy!
The end finally came tonight, and TPTB and their Emmerdale writer (yet another soul who doesn't understand the programme or its ethos) tried - again, oh God, how they tried! - to send Tyler, who was supposed to be too-cool-for-school out in style, behind the wheel of a fire engine red Ferrari.
It didn't work.
It was obvious that Bryan Kirkwood intended Discipline and Lapinskas to be younger versions of the Mitchell brothers, as seen from this promotional video. You can see how much of an epic fail these two were.
Tyler, it seems, in the space of a day, has been offered a job (by Anthony - pronounced "Annannee") on a cruise ship. This is why Tyler can't be Alfie's best man at his Valentine's Day wedding which isn't going to happen. So there's no real reason for Tyler to return, is there?
(Poor Matt Lapinskas, who wanted a return to EastEnders so badly he could taste the food at Elstree Studios cafeteria, that he predicted Annannee would be asked back for Tyler and Shitney's wedding).
Alfie doesn't want Tyler to go and advises him not to let his heartbreak over Whitney make him leave the Square. Michael Moon, whom Alfie rightly describes as being "the weirdest man on the planet" advises him to leave, see the world, have some adventures. Get out.
That's the smartest thing Michael's said all the time he's been on the show. He even affects Anthony's departure in style, by finding out that Danny's leased the flash Ferrari and that he's behind in the payments on the leasehold. Ironic that Tyler leaves in the same way Annannee was introduced - by pretending to be an official that he wasn't. Tyler helped Michael get one up on Danny Pennant by "repossessing" his car, and he left the Square en route to the airport, in the Testarossa.
Most of Tyler's leaving line was a mishmash of nothing, mostly Tony Discipline practicing his smell-the-fart acting technique as he mulled over the pros and cons of leaving the Square.
The deciding factor and probably the best scene in what was a most mediocre of mediocre episodes was when Tyler ran into Whitney in the pub and intimated that he was thinking of leaving the Square.
Whitney: Tyler, you don't have to leave Walford because of me.
Tyler: Everyfink isn't always about you, Whit.
Actually, that was a brilliant put-down and a demonstration of just how much Whitney is filled with her own self-importance. She was probably creaming her fetid, unwashed knickers at the thought of some poor bastard, broken-hearted at her abandonment of his affections, leaving the Square forever because of her.
Later, however, there was a bit of a retorted comeback, when she ran after him, haltingly telling him I couldn't let you go (pausing just long enough to give the poor sonofabitch enough hope actually to get out of the Ferrari in the hopes that the Walford mattress wanted him back ...
... without saying good-bye.
(Alternate meaning: Fuck you, fatso! You see, it is all about me, and you want it!)
Well, his declaration of love at the end of that scene actually made her look small - if you can overlook the shitty acting by both actors, one of whom has no talent and the other is simply lazy and entitled.
This is it. This really is the end, my friend. No more Tyler Moon, even though he and his ilk were amongst some of the main reason the show started hemorrhaging viewers. One yoof down, many more to go.
Good-bye, Tyler. Don't let the door hit your fat arse as you leave.
Interlude 1: It's All Good In Da Hood.
This was supposed to be funny, but guess what? It wasn't.
Poopy worried about the new owner of the Salon elbowing her out of a job, so she's making a list and checking it twice, compiling a plethora of weird and wonderful 'elf'n beauty treatments which would probably result in someone being hospitalised at best and deformed at worst, if left to Poppy's wittering temperament and insipidity.
Discussing colonic irrigation whilst your boyfriend tries to eat a sausage for his breakfast is one thing, but the thought of Poopy-la-Dim actually administering such a treatment is positively frightening.
Poopy decides to teach herself how to do permanent eyelash extensions. Her only problem is that she's got to have a guinea pig on whom to experiment. She gets short shrift from the hoary old trout, AKA Cora-the-Bora, and Carol doesn't have a few hours to spare.
Well, you know exactly where this piece is going before it gets there. You just know that inevitably Poopy-La-Dim was going to contrive to findn some way to experiment on Fatboy.
Tee-hee-hee-haha, Fatboy - who's suddenly become a BFF of Tyler (when, exactly? being a friend of Tyler Moon is like being a card-carrying member of The Friends of the Friendless), is summoned by Alfie to come cheer Tyler up.
So we're treated to the ubiquitous off-screen audio scene with dialogue exhibiting multiple double entendres, only to see Fatboy emerge wearing shades on a cloudy day, which he refuses to remove in the Vic, until he relents for Alfie's benefit, only to reveal that Fatboy was sporting one eye with permanent eyelash extensions. Like a Ladyboy, according to Alfie.
Not funny. Totally (or totes, as Poopy-La-Dim would say). When will this lot at EastEnders realise that the people who are supposed to be funny ... simply aren't.
Interlude 2: Two Moons for the Misbegotten.
Yep, the beat goes on, and just like we know that Alfie and Kat will reunite, we know that Michael Moon is leaving, so we can't invest any sort of interest in any mind games he chooses to play with Janine.
I can't even be bothered to wonder if he's jealous of Danny's obvious interest in her and her association with him or if he's secretly attracted to Danny, himself, and is jealous of Janine's potential interest.
I don't think - at least I hope it's not a love triangle. Again. And I suppose the uncertaintly of that situation adds to the uniqueness of the entire situation.
One thing for certain and that's the fact that possession of Scarlett is now secondary to a weird couple trying to out-manoeuvre one another to score points and get sexually turned onto such a point they'll inevitably end up in bed with one another. Yet again.
So Janine's remark tonight about someone using sex in order to manipulate another person was both pointed and prescient. It shows that she's still aware exactly of what Michael achieved for a time and was still trying to achieve with her, and it sent out a warning across the ramparts that she recognises Danny's ilk - that he will, indeed, do whatever he wants in order to achieve his end.
That Michael managed to expose Danny's Emperor's New Clothes as just a sham right at the moment when Janine was seeking to clinch a major property deal with someone who appeared to be Julian Assange, not only backfired on Danny, but also Michael, when Janine reacted by sending them both away with appropriate fleas in their ears - Michael not to interfere and Danny to find another investor for Janine's property portfolio.
I like Janine. She's a strong and independent woman - at the moment. She's exactly the sort of woman who doesn't need a man in her life on whom to depend in order to validate her existence. The one thing Bryan Kirkwood did get right was Janine's overdue character development, and I hope DTC continues this pattern.
What I especially liked about tonight's episode was the unusually good interaction between Billy - a welcome sight back - and Lucy Beale. Lucy's so much better a character away from the Lauren-Whitney toxic blend. It was nice to see her actually being civil to Billy, drinking with him in the pub and bantering with him.
Lines of the night:-
Billy: I'm Executive Director of Operations.
Lucy: Just what exactly does the executive director of operations do, Billy?
Billy: Err ... direct operations executively.
Lucy plays on Billy's ego and position by telling him that Janine had told her to organise a meeting of the cleaners at the R and R, which became euphemistic for meaning that none of the cleaners had shown up today, so she'd better crack on cleaning the club. When Billy undertook to "chair" the meeting, leaving Lucy free, he ended up mopping the floors, himself.
When Lucy came by to check up on him, she declined to help as she had to "collect rents" for Janine, at which point Billy jumps up and dashes off to do the job, himself, thus suffering all manner of verbal abuse, probably, and yet again, saving Lucy from an unpleasant task.
The mind game scenario between Michael and Janine, sometimes involving Alice and now often involving Danny, is getting tiresome. I have to say - although I like Charlie Brooks's longer hairstyle.
And The Star of the Show ...
We had to suffer yet another round of Max and Kirsty too-ing and fro-ing, the inevitable and predictable misunderstanding of Max, having been wound up by something Carl didn't say and having the inevitable showdown about Kirsty's trustworthiness.
Cora-the-Bora is a skanky old wrinklebitch. Kirsty, for what it's worth, is still Max's wife. Cora's needling Max, and she's needling Kirsty. What exactly does she want? Max to repudiate Kirsty and live a life of celibacy, complete with hairshirt and public penance for the sin of sinning against Saint Tanya? Tanya's gone. She's happy. She's away from Max, and she's probably found another sucker with a fat wallet, so maybe Cora should shut her fetid mouth.
I'm glad Kirsty gave her what-for in the launderette, and let her know that she knew the foul tricks she'd been pulling with Kirsty's laundry.
The core issue, understandably, with Max, is whether or not he can trust Kirsty, after the little white pregnancy lie she told him; but that's like the pot calling the kettle black. Max is a serial adulterer. How honest is that? His own wife was a liar, a cheat and an attempted murderess.
And tonight, we learned that Max knew Kirsty for precisely one hour, before they were in bed together; and that they were happy with each other, until he decided to attend to Tanya's cancer cold. However, at the time they met, Max was, thanks to Lauren's dictate that Max forever be exiled from Walford, a single man.
So when Max pulls Kirsty into his house, for a bit of 'ow's yer favah, who should be there to greet him but ...
The Star Of Our Show ... The Go-To Girl, Herself ...
Lauren.
Now, consider this: detox in a medical clinic is a long and difficult process, which EastEnders have got all wrong. Again.
When people are committed to an addiction clinic, they are removed, exclusively, from their family unit and their friends. They are not allowed physical contact with any of their loved ones, and minimal phone contact, which has to be approved. They are scrubbed clean of any make-up, scent, jewelry etc, the aim being to strip them down to the barest essentials of their personalities, removing any psychological barriers, to force them to confront the problems which contribute to and encourage their addictive behaviours.
This process takes months, sometimes as much as nearly a year.
Yet, there she was bouncing out the kitchen door tonight, fresh from a rehab clinic ... Lauren.
She was sporting a golden tan and her hair had fresh highlights.
That's not something you get, even at the most exclusive clinic. Not even at The Priory.
Shit, it was obvious this was filmed a couple of weeks after Jossa had returned from her exclusive lujo holiday to Mexico's Caribbean coast with her cousin. Obviously, TPTB reckon on her having some modicum of common sense, because obviously no one thought that the shallow, self-centred little bitch would need to be reminded that when she returned to filming that Lauren would just have been released from the clinic where she wouldn't have had access to sunbathing or sunbeds and no hairdresser to give her expensive highlights.
A month in rehab and she's out and about? She wouldn't have had any money, and - I daresay - Tanya wouldn't have approved of her returning to Walford. In fact, the Tanya of old would have been in hot pursuit; but there she is, larger than life, ready for windmill arm action, gurning, screeching, gurning, funny voices and gurning some more.
Shit actress. No talent. And I hope Treadwell Collins sees as much for himself.
This is the only award this piece of tripe should ever be receiving ...
Wake me up when the storylines start.
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