Just caught up with the latest Thursday clean. The perfect (in her own deluded mind) Nannabea is actually a fat idle fraud having to tidy up discarded clothing draped over the sofa and kicked off shoes left where they've remained since last sunday. For three days the skank has done nothing, happily living in her own s. But, in her defence, the filth and dog hair lying on her floors is clean before she decides to vacuum it up as Nanna doesn't sweep or vac before mopping. Is she honestly of sound mind? .... and don't get me started on the washing machine detergent pods. The stupid woman loads her machine and then throws in a pod on top but when advised by a follower that it should be in first she claps back saying that it makes no difference on a one hour cycle. It does, you thick-headed stupid bint, the wash cycle has nothing to do with it, if you want bits of pod undissolved and stuck to your washing then carry on as you were because you, as usual, know best. She's the epitome of Keighley's version of Waynetta Slob. Slobbing around all day in her PJs with no understanding of something called SELF RESPECT. I'm thankful that I actually DO give a s.
But, in Grandpa's Dave’s case, he doesn’t have to look at the fireplace when he stokes the fire, probably would prefer to do a bung hole in a barrel when desperate after shagging the easy Bev and landing her in the teenage pudding club. the only lay the desperate slapper could get. Poor Dave has really paid the price for sowing his wild oats into that gargoyle.
of prawns 
on blankety blank, again embarrassing herself, her life is one big embarrassment
