ON the subject of never-ending tripe, have you read Helen Mead lately? Last week we were treated to a nauseous menu of body odour, halitosis, horrible, smelly trainers, grubby underwear and adult males who smell like unwashed laundry.
This week (December 24) we have an obnoxious concoction of Helen's bedroom performance, living room anxiety and bathroom confusion. Here is a woman who clearly has nothing of relevance to say and insists on saying it in 600 words. Her column is like yesterday's porridge; cold, stiff and difficult to stir.
This endless domestic drivel must have a cringe magnitude of ten on the Richter Scale. Pity the poor family who must dread all these Monday revelations.
Robert Holmes,
Thorganby, York.
Updated: 09:48 Monday, December 31, 2001
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