Brookside RIP

The Death of Brookside

Now perfect fodder for a Saturday afternoons snooze, Brookside said goodbye to prime-time.

So the rest of us could say goodbye to Brookside. Goodbye to its droning theme-tune. Goodbye to Ron Dixon having yet another ” ‘art attack”. Goodbye to whinging Jacqui Dixon pretending to be Young Business Woman of the Year. Goodbye to Mike Dixon borrowing money off his “auld fella” and promising Rachel that he was the new Quentin Tarantino.

Goodbye to all of them complaining “you’re joking aren’tcha ?!”, “you wha’ ?”, and calling each other “divvi”s.

Goodbye to Ron and Jimmy Corkhill exchanging sob stories about “Our Tony” and “Our Little Jimmy.” Goodbye to their endless speeches about the docks, the workers and “the ewe-nions.”

Goodbye to anyone getting involved with “Drucks !” and stolen cars.

Goodbye to chip-shop girl Lindsey Corkhill stomping round The Close pretending to be (don’t laugh) a gangster. Goodbye to families of identikit scallies in baseball caps pulling get-rich-quick scams, heists and dodgy deals involving “knock off.”

Goodbye to Sammi and Katie Rogers yelling at each other for being drunk and then necking bottles of vodka themselves.

Goodbye to the sieges, explosions and plagues.

Best of all, goodbye to Phil Redmond being all over the media smugly pontificating about inventing “issues-led” soap.

Tara ‘la !