In that case, I want Lou Beale's job!
Far from being an aged crone lording it over the Fouler households of the Eastend from an armchair, they've given her a complete makeover into a foxy weatherbabe on the tagliatelli!
Not only that, she's on for about a minute and a half, just to get the weather wrong!
I'd love to be paid masses of wonga to be made into some svelte sixpacked hunk just to say "Mild showers over Hunstanton, with a westerly breeze across Cromer, with some sunshine in Norwich with occasional cloud"! - All for thousands, nay, MILLIONS of squids! All waving their tentacles in the floodwaters and eating the fisherfolk who refuse to belive there's a great big feck off Architeuthis Dux terrorising the bay!
Cor if that ain't workin', I don't know what is.
Probably paying your guitar on the MTV.
Money for nothing and it's chips for tea.
McCain MicroChips, I think, coz you have to install them microwave ovens in some custom kitchen delivery.
Unfortunately, you can't move the refrigerators, coz Sting's buggered off to some Amazonian rainforest to have tantric sex with plate lipped bare-breasted prostitutes as he tries to hide from the paper ratsies in his car.
He wants her...
He wants her...
He wants her empty "V"...
filled with Sumners' stiffy.
Or something.
Probably.
