Hot, Cross Pither

It's Easter so it must be..........

Bloody Thatcher!! I didn't think there was much more she could do to us but I am convinced it is her legacy which is responsible for making the anniversary of the death of Christ a tad depressing!
It's Good Friday, for God's sake (no pun intended)! What's going on? Fifteen fucking hours I've been lying on the settee now, watching the box, and have they screened Jason and the Argonauts yet? Have they bollocks.
No Greatest Story Ever Told ("Truly this man was the son of Gaaaaaaaaaarrd!"), no Murder on the Orient Express, not even a sniff of an Escape to Athena (second worst film ever made, behind the inseparably appalling On the Buses and Holiday on the Buses)!
Instead, what is on? - wall-to-wall fucking Poirot! If I have to watch one more episode featuring that smug, smartarsed asylum seeker I think I will have to invade
Belgium! Pompous, little git. Don't get me wrong, I love whodunits, Agatha Christie in general and Art Deco but Poirot is really beginning to get on my tits. I am longing for an episode in which he gathers all together in the drawing room and announces the name of the murderer, just for some other cove to put up his or her hand and say "No actually, it was me. Na, na, na, naaah, na" and everyone then bursts out in fits of laughter, pointing at Poirot and saying things like "What a cunt". That would wipe the smirk off his fucking face!
I need the comfort of the Devil's Lantern on days like today. You see, the soon-to-be ex-Mrs Pither has been out and about since early morning. She's a Catholic and as this weekend is, for her, The Biggie (what with a religious deathday and a told-you-so anniversary in one weekend) she and The Big Man have been busy cramming in as much communing as they can. Being a man with no invisible means of support whose own place of worship closes early on Good Friday, what am I supposed to do in the meantime? I rely on my posture-sprung Comfycushion 9000 and televisual shite to get me through - well, those and the drink.
If they haven't screened Bedknobs and Broomsticks, Herbie Rides Again, Digby - The Biggest Dog in the World and/or The Robe by 10pm I shall be writing a stiff letter of complaint to the programmers. After all, it is what HE would have wanted.
(Sexism AND blasphemy in two days! I think I am regaining my touch!)