|Happy days. Although I'm not even sure who the girl is to be honest.|
Neighbours is completely daft. I find myself laughing at the incredulity of it at least 10 times an episode. Even better is if I watch it alongside someone else who also enjoys its complete absurdity. How can one teacher seemingly teach an entire school (note: always in the same classroom, and the same lessson) and does everyone really have to end up marrying some one on the same cul-de-sac as them? Answer: yes. I do worry about their gene pool sometimes.
But this is all very charming in a silly sort of way. Like the sop that I am, I can't help but feel a slight tinge of sadness that in our non- Neighbours reality, we live such nuclear existences where many of us know very little of our neighbours. This is not to say I would like such closeness. (If I ever move to Ramsay Street, remind me to LOCK MY DOOR because the people next door will just walk in at any time, usually the most inappropriate) but there are moments when you know what? I really wouldn't mind being adopted by Harold Bishop.
Neighbours, you are ridiculous and fun, absurdly dramatic and take up too much time in my life, but you've taught me how to attempt a terrible Australian accent, and for that, I love you.