Regular readers may well roll their eyes at the sight of Eastenders in the headline again, but as anyone who tuned in over Christmas will tell you, the sitcom has drifted from regular melancholy into the absolute zero of acute depression.
A few of the current threads seem designed to make viewers slit their wrists. They may as well slot split-second banners in the film reels saying ‘END IT NOW’ in a bold black font, just to kick the public that little bit further into the pit of despair.
So, put on your party hat, pull out your party poppers and get down with us as we celebrate the most miserable Eastenders threads of 2009! (so far).
Dotty, Dot and the Non-reformed Nasty Nick
Even casual viewers will know a bit about Dot’s blighted past where her son is concerned. He’s tried to poison her, always stolen from her and is generally a complete, drug-addled bastard. So, at Christmas time – a time for giving – writers decided to bring back the malevolent offspring. For one episode he was convincingly reformed and I expected a slow-building but subtly well-written build up to his dastardly intentions. Instead, by New Year, a hundred heavy-handed hints made the blatantly obvious oncoming conclusion plain, meaning we’ve months of watching Dot tragically kid herself ahead as dramatic irony looks wearily on from the side of the stage. Happy new year.
Max, Tanya, Lauren and Lies
At the centre of last year’s Christmas-time borderline-incest infidelity scandal, this story is running and running. And running. Then meandering a bit and now faltering to some sort of conclusion. After alcoholism, a confusing bit with a gun and an intentional road crash, Tanya’s banged up in the least secure prison in Britain, where it seems to be perfectly legal for a woman on trial for attempted murder to socialise, unobserved, with the bloke she’s accused of trying to kill in her cell (not even through the bars, as might be a bit more realistic). Everyone knew young Lauren had done the driving when she admitted as much, and I don’t think I’m far wrong when I say that every viewer is probably hoping young Abby (the little shit) gets put away for life in some weird twist of fate in the next couple of weeks.
Sean, Roxy and Jack’s Three-Way Disaster
Poor Sean had mended his wicked ways when he discovered he had a daughter – and the fact she was premature even seemed to strengthen him. He was almost completely sane by the time he found out (on Christmas Day, round the table, naturally) that the kid wasn’t his. It was it’s mother’s sister’s ex-boyfriend’s. This resulted in lots of laying about depressed in the launderette, baby-kidnapping, falling into an icy lake and tons of screaming and wailing. I think we were meant to feel sympathy for Sean – which was misjudged really, considering most viewers are still reeling from the period of time in which Sean was dealing coke, being a complete sod to everyone and physically torturing much-loved character Gus. Good riddance Sean then – even if he was a well-acted figure of fun.
Bianca, Whitney and the Sex Offender
And now to possibly the most depressing story of the bunch. We all know Whitney was abused by her adopted mother’s boyfriend. Well, Bianca found out, Tony got arrested and now we’re having to suffer the consequences – a damaged teenager, Bianca at a loss, Ricky looking confused (plus ca change…) and lots and lots of crying. The only light at the end of this particular tunnel came with the recent arrival of Janine Butcher (Godbless her), the best ever Eastenders pantomime villain we’ve had for a while. A good move by bosses, bringing her back. Last night she delivered a nasty line to Bianca when told she’d upset Whitney: ‘Oh – is that my fault? But I’m not the one who bought a paedo into the house?’.
What an awful woman.
So, if these four tales of warm, hard-grafting East End types from the working classes don’t fire up the cockles of your heart, I’m not sure what will.
Oh!
Knees up Muvva Brown! etc…
Tags: BBC 1, BBC1, Bianca Jackson, Charlie Brooks, Culture, Dot Cotton, Eastenders, Entertainment, Media, Nasty Nick, Sitcom, Soap Operas, Television, Tony, TV, Uncategorized, Whitney
Watch With Mothers 
January 6, 2009 at 9:54 am
oh gaaaddd. ANOTHER “ello ma” moment. how much longer are the lazy writers going to torture us with the terrible actor that is marc thingo (and his of-the-same-drama-school spawn)?
*claws at face*
January 6, 2009 at 10:17 am
The thing is, he’s good at being nice. He’s only a bad actor when trying to act ‘shifty’.
January 6, 2009 at 10:22 am
Eastenders 2009 sounds like a bargain bin sci-fi flick from the seventies.
January 6, 2009 at 10:26 am
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/asia-pacific/7812875.stm
Right, I’m off to the DAVID COULTARD MUSEUM so good day.
January 6, 2009 at 10:43 am
I haven’t watched EastEnders since about 1995 (Martine McCutcheon’s boyfriend going out with her brother, since you ask) and even I have seen the Dot/Nick thing about 9 times.
As for not indulging in a slow-burn storyline, it’s the modern way. Sports promoters call it ‘hotshotting’. Something that could lead to huge pay-offs if teased properly gets spunked away too early.
January 6, 2009 at 10:48 am
I watched University Challenge like a twat.
Missed all the fun. I usually do.
January 6, 2009 at 10:52 am
That Starter for Ten was quite a nice film. The music was good.
East of Enders is vile. I refuse to watch it.
January 6, 2009 at 11:20 am
You are right there Nick. An evil show made by a cadre of right-on arsewits. Hang on, I’ve turned into Ally Ross!
You should all go to the CBB thread and read my Tommy Sheridan post. I’m not saying it’s good, just that it took my ages to type.
January 6, 2009 at 11:45 am
CBB?
Tommy Sheridan?
Cadre?
What are these words?
January 6, 2009 at 11:51 am
CBB – Shalebrity Big Bruvva.
Tommy Sheridan – Contestant on same.
Cadre – Group of evil overlords ruling it over the proles.
January 6, 2009 at 12:15 pm
Tx – thanks
January 6, 2009 at 12:25 pm
That lake they fell into was remarkably clear, wasn’t it? And there was quite a lot of light under there too. Lucky for Sean, Roxy and Ronnie that they ended up in there, and not in a pitch black, stinking pit from which there was no escape.
Oh! And hats off to the EastEnders writer who failed to think through the effects on a new-born baby of it being cuddled by a woman who had just hauled herself out of a frozen lake.
January 6, 2009 at 12:37 pm
I’ll buy anything as long as it’s shiney and made by Apple http://www.theonion.com/content/video/apple_introduces_revolutionary
January 6, 2009 at 12:48 pm
That spoof Apple ad is pretty much the same idea as the one on the Peter Serafinofinodiddlededeewitwitz show where he demonstrated the world’s smallest laptop that had only one key.
January 6, 2009 at 12:50 pm
I tuned in for my traditional annual sneer and shaking of the head at this the other week. Janine was getting married and it was like a Carry On film in a synagogue. Eh?
Whilst I’m here, I might as well throw in a ‘it was much better when Ali and Mehmet was in it’ for good measure.
OZCABS 4 EVA
January 6, 2009 at 12:51 pm
I thought the same thing, Nappers. Nevermind that it’s a newborn baby with weak, premature lungs.
January 6, 2009 at 12:57 pm
Maybe babies are more resiliant than we childless types think they are? Hasn’t Nick got kids?
Nick – Is it wise to cuddle a new born baby with weak, premature lungs if you’ve just dragged y’self out of a frozen lake?
Also, did anyone spot the fact that brand names are out of bounds in EastEnders unless they are board game brand names? Anyone for a nice pint of Churchill’s and a game of Ker-Plunk?
January 6, 2009 at 12:59 pm
Don’t forget Kingland Crips – the perfect pub snack.
January 6, 2009 at 1:02 pm
Mmmmm, Kingland Crisps …
Best enjoyed with a can of Skoe, I find.
January 6, 2009 at 1:03 pm
I in think the only episode of Eastenders I’ve watched in recent memory, some twunt tried to bury some other twunt and then they ended up back together by the end of the episode.
Now, the last time I’d seen this particular story line was an ongoing WWF feud between the Big Boss Man and some other faceless person. I hadn’t realised that EE spent last year borrwoing storylines off of the WWF.
However, by the looks of the above they’ve stopped as not even the WWF is that unrealistic. Admit that you watch wrestling, which Eastenders seems to make look like a well considered, rational, balanced soap opera based around a sport, and you’re relegated to the type of brain dead farmhand that Bravo viewers probably condecend to. What does this get again? 16,000,000 viewers?
As a nation, we’re a bunch of hypocrites, really.
January 6, 2009 at 1:05 pm
Been on the whiskey, Ugeine?
January 6, 2009 at 1:06 pm
Skoe and Kingland – avoid the pub courtesy of Mini Mart.
It may be far fetched, Ugeine, but at least it’s for grown ups as well as kids. Unlike wrestling. Or Doctor Who.
January 6, 2009 at 1:06 pm
Careful with that axe, Ugeine.
January 6, 2009 at 1:07 pm
Wrestling’s for circus folk, really.
January 6, 2009 at 1:08 pm
Apparently something’s happened in Doctor Who. Not sure what it is as I never look at the Cee Beebie’s news site.
January 6, 2009 at 1:08 pm
Babies are very resiliant, frozen lakes not a problem. Also as an EastEnders baby it’s certainly on 20 a day….
January 6, 2009 at 1:11 pm
I’m not a hypocrite, oh no hang on….
Carry on Screaming ITV3 fantastic.
Sorry a tourettes moment….
January 6, 2009 at 1:13 pm
I watched Carry On Screaming. My, the makeup job they did on those two Frankenstein’s monster-type creatures was good, wasn’t it?
January 6, 2009 at 1:13 pm
I watched the Dr. Who Christmas special. That’s at least four things I now disagree with Charlie Brooker about. As a Terry Pratchett fan I’m apparently well versed in children’s entertainment and it was a bunch a bunch of bland arse.
January 6, 2009 at 1:16 pm
I like the whimpering of the smaller one, Rubba Tee Tee Fenella Fieldings cleavage the lot.
January 6, 2009 at 1:18 pm
Ugeine – I could have told you it was going to be a bunch a bunch of bland arse. The clue’s in the title – ‘Doctor Who’. See?
“Weeeeeeeee’ll bunch a bunch a bunch to Lilly the lunch the lunch the lunch …”
January 6, 2009 at 1:19 pm
I heeded your warning, NP (You did save me from very nearly watching the Dark Knight, after all), but my parents had the television remote. Bloody Christmas.
January 6, 2009 at 1:20 pm
I confess I considered taking a gentleman’s restorative in the lavatory after examining Miss Fielding’s cleavage, Nick. I didn’t, as I’d just eaten an entire box of Mingles and was incapable of moving from the sofa.
January 6, 2009 at 1:22 pm
NeverEnder villains end up being nice (Sean kicking his coke-dealing, torturing past) but Hollyoaks characters turn into murdering psycopaths when the scriptwriters run out of ideas for them. All of them. Always.
Emmerdale’s a happy medium. Eric Pollard has been a twat for years. Good man.
January 6, 2009 at 1:23 pm
That’s true, that date rapist that ended up blowing up a pub, for one.
January 6, 2009 at 1:23 pm
Ugeine – You spent Christmas with your parents? Ye gods. Couldn’t think of anything worse. I managed four hours with mine last Monday, and begrudged them that small amount of my time (GTA IV won’t, after all, play itself).
January 6, 2009 at 1:24 pm
Anyone seen AUSTRALIA yet.
Mrs Nick is very keen but 3 hours…..
January 6, 2009 at 1:33 pm
And the one who tried to chuck the date rapist’s sister off the roof. Can’t remember his name but he was annoying, so good riddance. Mind you, so was she, so I kind of got where he was coming from.
January 6, 2009 at 1:36 pm
Nicole Kidman looks like she’s got terminal cancer as well as that disease that bleaches all the pigment out of your skin. She was a nice bit o’ fluff back when she was dancing about in that weathergirl film, but now she looks like a rangey old chicken.
And her bristols were never up to much …
January 6, 2009 at 1:37 pm
I was on a little family holiday in Scotland, with only one television and a bar that closed for a few hours on Christmas, NP. I knew things were rough in Scotland but one television between 5 people? Surely this is the reason we have a human rights act in the first place?
January 6, 2009 at 1:37 pm
Brookside had a rapist who ended up on a roof, as it ‘appens. And it had an incest story and a bewildering outbreak of an anthrax-style disease that wiped out half the cast.
I miss that show.
January 6, 2009 at 1:38 pm
Ugeine – A pub closed in Scotchland? Are you sure you weren’t in England?
January 6, 2009 at 1:39 pm
I didn’t realise that was a storyline. I thought Liverpool had had its comeuppance at long last??
January 6, 2009 at 1:44 pm
Careful what you say about Liverpool, Spaghetti. They’re quicker to jump on the offence bandwagon than the Saracens.
*leapfrogs to the top of the list*
January 6, 2009 at 1:52 pm
Well, these things don’t happen by accident. That’s all I’m saying.
January 6, 2009 at 1:52 pm
Well, NP, the people had thick, unintelligable accents and were very strange to me so I could have been anywhere north of Dery.
January 6, 2009 at 1:54 pm
Derby, I assume you mean, Ugeine. That little corner of England that will be forever the Third World.
January 6, 2009 at 1:55 pm
Ugeine / Napoleon
We don’t really approve of television up here in Scotchland. It encourages la-di-da public schoolboys to get themselves jobs at BBC Scotland and STV and then spend 30 years patronising us and / or trying to get a job at a real telly station.
And the pub wasn’t shut. We just let visitors and the people who invite them, think that the pub is shut, and then nip in the back door for a swally, unencumbered by tourists. Gits.
January 6, 2009 at 1:58 pm
I say bar, it was really just a few locals with a crate of Tennants perched on an upturned box of Daz.
January 6, 2009 at 2:01 pm
And it was still the finest drinking establishment in the whole of Ayrshire. Robert Burns was born a few minutes down the road. Some kind of poet or something. Couldn’t understand a work, whiskey does terrible things to your brain.
January 6, 2009 at 2:22 pm
Recording new podcast tonight.
The WWM advert will be in it (init) again.
I may be pissed as this work induced sobriety is just getting too much.
January 6, 2009 at 2:27 pm
Ugeine – now I know you’re a liar. There’s never been any washing powder in Ayrshire.
Apparently, this year in Scotchland, we’ve all to dress up as Rabbie Burns and wander around touching up strange wimmin and reciting stolen verses to celebrate his 250th something or other. Which, bar the dressing up, is pretty much any Saturday night.
January 6, 2009 at 2:30 pm
Happy New Year all
SH, you’ve been busy! Bizzy u hav bean (Yoda)
January 6, 2009 at 2:31 pm
Mr H – I assume, as a genuine Scotch, you wouldn’t recognize a line of Robbie Burns’s poetry if it kicked you up the arse.
January 6, 2009 at 2:32 pm
Piqued – Happy New Year, you spent balloon of a human being.
January 6, 2009 at 2:41 pm
I can take that Nappers, I’m 40 now and all growed up
Happy New Year
January 6, 2009 at 2:44 pm
If you were so growed up, you wouldn’t still be dressing like a teenager and going to clubs full of bright young things. Honestly, the kids must think you’re a paedophile.
January 6, 2009 at 2:51 pm
Toby! I just remembered.
January 6, 2009 at 2:55 pm
I used to fancy Oddbod Jnr from Carry on Screaming. But I was only small when that film came out. Actually, that’s worse. And I can’t believe I’m putting this in writing.
January 6, 2009 at 2:57 pm
Up here in Scotchland, the only folks who like Robert “The Taxman” Burns are pooves, university graduates, members of the Scottish Nazionalist Party, hawkers of Chinese made tat, and Eddi Reader, who must be thanking every God Ever that she’ll get a full years work in 2009, instead of the usual 3 weeks.
Proper Scotch folk bow down at the grave of Robert Fergusson (with 2 s’s), and silently pray that furriners never find oot aboot him.
January 6, 2009 at 2:58 pm
You’re that old?
*removes Who’s details from file marked ‘Possible Future Affair Candidates’*
January 6, 2009 at 3:00 pm
My favourite of that untalented bunch of Scotch poets is William McGonegal (can’t be bothered to find out how you spell his name correctly). Hats off to Scotchland for producing the worst poet who has ever lived.
January 6, 2009 at 3:06 pm
A good rule for life is to simply murder any poet you happen across in your day to day travels. Frankly, they’re only using up good air that decent, hard working folk should be using.
I’m not saying you should go out of your way to hunt them down like dogs in the street, but I wouldnae grass you up either.
January 6, 2009 at 3:13 pm
Can’t be doing with poetry (unless it’s my own shit poetry). Remember when they tried to make it all trendy by calling dreary poetry-reading evenings ‘Poetry Slams’? Made it sound like there was going to be some sort of WWF-style smackdown occurring, the fucking liars.
If I had my way, every poetry evening would be interrupted by a unit of Waffen-SS Flammenwerfers bursting in and setting fire to the whole bloody shower of mung bean-chomping twerps.
January 6, 2009 at 3:19 pm
Ah, I’ve just checked, 1966. So I wasn’t nowhere near being born then. I haven’t gone off quite yet so I’d like to go back on the list. But not too far down. Eh Nappers? Eh?
January 6, 2009 at 3:27 pm
1966, eh? Well I ain’t that fussy, old girl. Welcome back to the list.*
*Don’t tell the wife
January 6, 2009 at 3:36 pm
Poetry is songs for the lazy
January 6, 2009 at 3:43 pm
Sylvia Plath was apparently “inspired” to churn out her interminable poetry ‘cos of her hatred of her father.
My old man pissed me off by chucking out a fossil I had found. Did I feel the need to put pen to paper? No.
Still, at least she did the decent thing and topped herself avec the gas oven. Showed some backbone in the end.
January 6, 2009 at 3:44 pm
I thought my real age had been revealed in one of our previous heavy breathing sessions. I’m a child of the 70’s so the next big birthday is well on it’s way.
Wasn’t Don’t Tell The Wife an amusing sitcom from that vintage? If not, it bleedin’ well ought to have been.
January 6, 2009 at 3:45 pm
It’s meant to have all hidden meanings in it, is poetry. Well call me old fashioned, but I reckon that if you’ve got something to say, then fucking-well come out and say it straight, sunshine. None o’ this running rings round folk, thanks very much. Who do poets think we are? The French?
BASTARDS.
January 6, 2009 at 3:48 pm
Spaghetti – My old man – may he burn in Hell for all eternity – used to beat me black and blue at a moment’s notice. Did it inspire me to write poetry? Did it arses. It just turned me into a twisted, emotionally-stunted human being with a hatred for all of humanity and, therefore, never did me any harm.
January 6, 2009 at 3:49 pm
Says captain renaissance art over there.
January 6, 2009 at 3:52 pm
Dave – I didn’t say art was any different, did I, you farting little toad? I couldn’t give a chuff what an artist’s supposedly ‘saying’ in his work. As far as I’m concerned, every one of ’em’s saying FUCK ALL.
January 6, 2009 at 4:04 pm
Anyone see that prog last night about misbehaving kids in primary school? Did any of them receive a wallop??? No. Bah!!
January 6, 2009 at 4:06 pm
A picture paints a thousand words as your little friend from Bread once splurted.
January 6, 2009 at 4:07 pm
I heard about that on the radio, Spaghetti. I’m ashamed that we now live in a society where you can’t thrash the living daylights out of a six year old anymore. If the Krauts officially declared World War III open for business today, we’d be fucked.
January 6, 2009 at 4:08 pm
Dave – No it doesn’t. Words is words and pictures is pictures, you jabbering fat louse.
January 6, 2009 at 4:11 pm
More scary nuns in school is one option. Ours was stacked with ’em, and they didn’t get any backchat. ‘Course, they only spoke in Latin, which made it a bit difficult.
January 6, 2009 at 4:12 pm
‘If a picture paints a thousand words then why can’t I paint you’ actually makes no fucking sense as a lyric.
January 6, 2009 at 4:13 pm
…because the subject was so ginormously fat, 1000 words wasn’t enough?
January 6, 2009 at 4:16 pm
We had a right brute called Barton at our school. I called that bastard a twat once in the school corridor, and he picked me up by my neck and smashed my head against a wall three times. If memory serves, corporal punishment had been aboilshed in schools three years before he did that.
Never did me any harm.
January 6, 2009 at 4:16 pm
…because “I” would need more than a thousand words to describe “you”.
Kojack’s best song
January 6, 2009 at 4:16 pm
The question makes the assumption it’s a simple task to paint anything that contains 1000 words simply because a picture supposedly paints said amount. That’s classic rock music for you though, a load of junkie folk singers pretending to be POETS.
January 6, 2009 at 4:17 pm
That’s right – ‘aboilshed’.
January 6, 2009 at 4:17 pm
Oh, THAT Bread – the seminal 70’s soft rock gods. I thought you meant Bread, the hilarious sitcom, but from the 80’s not the 70’s.
I’m stuck in a timewarp. Who wants to do the timewarp again?
January 6, 2009 at 4:19 pm
I’d hardly describe Lemmy as a folk singer pretending to be a poet. Junkie, I’ll give you, but a folk singer?
January 6, 2009 at 4:20 pm
Dunno. He was pretty new age in his youth.
January 6, 2009 at 4:21 pm
Who – Even Dave wouldn’t invoke the name of Satan’s own malevolent 80s sitcom without good reason.
Anyone seen our Aveline?
January 6, 2009 at 4:23 pm
“Ever Decreasing Circles” – stupid name for a sitcom, even in the ’80’. It can’t decrease for ever. They’ll turn in to dots. And then disappear.
January 6, 2009 at 4:23 pm
I don’t think he meant it, Dave.
January 6, 2009 at 4:24 pm
I think that’s intended, Spag. It was a bleak, fatalistic comedy with the inevitable ending of cruel, painful, indignant death. Life’s shit and then you die, that kind of thing.
January 6, 2009 at 4:25 pm
You’re right, even Dave wouldn’t be that daft.
I look a bit like a fat Lilo Lil, actually. I hope this disclosure doesn’t put my place on the list in danger again.
January 6, 2009 at 4:26 pm
It’s been infuriating me for years. I don’t know how to let go.
January 6, 2009 at 4:26 pm
I HAVE DONE NOTHING WRONG AND SWINESHEAD WOULD TESTIFY TO THAT. I’M ONLY BACK HERE FOR ONE MORE DAY AND I’VE BEEN LOVELY AND ON MY BEST BEHAVIOUR.
January 6, 2009 at 4:26 pm
I reckon they should have called that show ‘My Husband’s A Busybody Twat And I Want Peter Eagan To Whisk Me Off My Feet And Do Me Up The Fudge Tunnel Round The Back Of The Kebab Lab – Where Kebabs Are A Science‘.
January 6, 2009 at 4:28 pm
Who – Depends if your knickers are round your ankles.
Dave – Swineshead won’t help you. He got himself an XBox 360 recently, and is now happily married and on his honeymoon with his lovely new wife, Grand Theft Auto IV.
January 6, 2009 at 4:29 pm
What knickers?
I…AM…A…TART
January 6, 2009 at 4:34 pm
Hey hey!
*pushes Who up the list*
January 6, 2009 at 4:52 pm
By the way, Dave, why are you only here for one more day? Got y’self another soul-destroying job working for minimum wage because your shitty degree from whatever polyversity your risible A level results got you into for three wasted years entitles you to NOTHING BETTER?
January 6, 2009 at 5:08 pm
I’m playing Fallout 3, it’s rather good. I’m also riling at the fact that Xboxes (so you went with the xbox in the end SH, astute plan if you’re following the latest PS3 rumours) get exclusive downloadable content in the form of a chuffing bikers game for GTA IV and us PS3 people don’t.
January 6, 2009 at 5:12 pm
Apparently there’s going to be a few more exclusive XBox GTA IV downloads too, Ugeine. How d’ye like THEM onions? That’s what you get for spending an eye-watering amount of money on a product that’s no bloody better than its £200 rival – diddly fucking squat. Ho ho!
By the way, is Fallout 3 worth getting?
January 6, 2009 at 5:25 pm
Sony have been rumoured to be dropping the hardware format and going for a content driven approach to gaming (Like Sega did), making my George Forman’s Lean Mean Gaming Machine completley useless.
It’s well worth it, didn’t think much to it to I saw it getting played, it’s a role playing game that’s got no generic fantasy bollocks, got bits like Manhunt and bits like shooters and bits like GTAIV.
January 6, 2009 at 5:33 pm
Sounds fun. As long as it’s not like that fucking Oblivion shit someone lent me. One of the best games ever made, my arse. Trundling around the countryside talking to badly-rendered bumpkins with West Country accents, more like. Load of shit.
Far Cry 2’s fun, by the way.
January 6, 2009 at 5:48 pm
Are you sure you weren’t just in Cornwall? For real, like?
January 6, 2009 at 6:19 pm
I might have been.
January 6, 2009 at 8:20 pm
Well, er, it’s by the makers of Oblivion, and, er, there’s a fair amount of trundling. No west country accents though, and the whole map’s a nuclear devastated wasteland so it gives you a decent impression of what Britain will be like by the end of the year.
March 9, 2012 at 10:03 pm
κουφώματα αλουμινίου…
[…]Eastenders, 2009 « Watch With Mothers[…]…
June 30, 2014 at 12:11 pm
bally antique slot machine for sale in texas
Eastenders, 2009 | Watch With Mothers