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Friday 7 March 2008

Neighbours

This week has seen a huge and life altering change occur. Not my birthday, although I am now wondering at what age official spinsterhood commences as I am plummeting towards a future where I live alone with cats and save all my bodily waste in jars, only stirring to frighten small children and swear at social services. But no, there are many other days on which I can ponder on this halcyon future, for now I am preoccupied with a much more pressing issue: Neighbours has moved to Channel Five.

I have always been a Neighbours fan. Like most I started watching it in 1986, unlike most, I carried on watching it. This was due in part to a sizeable crush on Dr Karl Kennedy. How wonderful he is, with his jet black hair untouched by age, his slightly randy nature and his light hearted jokey side – who else but Karl would sing in a band called “The Right Prescription”? He is also some kind of medical wonder – Pregnant? Karl can deliver your babies. Need Heart Surgery? Karl’s your man. Councelling? Why not talk to Karl?

But it is not just this crush that has kept me watching. Even a crush on Peter Sallis couldn’t keep me watching “Last of the Summer Wine”. I have stuck with Neighbours through the good times – Scott and Charlene’s wedding, Plain Jane Superbrain, Daphne giving birth through her tights – and the bad times: The Lims, Helen’s potential move to the Bungle Bungles, Julie’s death. I, alone, cared whether Paul and Gayle would be able to convince Mr Udugawa that they were really married.

Sadly I must confess that I have been to both a “Neighbours night” and to Ramsey Street. The Neighbours night was very exciting. I got to meet Darcy, Toadie and the legend himself Karl “The God” Kennedy. I got a hug. I meant to put the photo in a frame, along with his autograph, but sadly they got lost. I suspect sabotage on the side of Mrs Susan Kennedy. It wasn’t long since she’d slipped on some milk and lost 30 years worth of memory, so I am willing to forgive.

The trip to Ramsey Street was also very exciting. I wandered around the hallowed turf and then bumped in to the crappest family ever to grace Erinsborough – The Hancocks. Woop de doo. Still I got my photo taken with them. I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Perhaps Karl could do that in his capacity of super doctor using his enumerable skills to moonlight as a horse dentist.

But yeah it’s moved. I’ll learn to adjust, I’ll get over it. I’ll learn to love Karl on a different channel. I’ve gone off him a bit since Soap Star Superstar anyway. He took it all a wee bit too seriously. And wore some extremely tight trousers. Which weren’t as arousing as you’d think.

My friend is opening her own beauty business. She is now trying to decide on a name. So far most of my suggestions have been rejected but she may take me up on using “Metamorface”, she outright refused my favourite suggestion of “Gorge Bush”. I think she is missing a trick.

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