I lasted, somehow, to S6E2. And I only lasted that long by muting the sound for the dreadful, bulldozing Aunty Brenda, Bobs and the ridiculous oaf Karl.
I could stand the presumably authentic Welsh mix of third person singular and plural ('E have') but the 'C'm year' prelude to another panacea hug scraped the nerves every time.
It's a great ad for contraception too with the phone constantly interrupting for yet another event-disrupting pathetic drama with one of the clueless kids. And for other reasons.
And when it comes to excruciating over-acted facial contortions, Bobs, Nadine and sneering Little Al come equal worst.
Some of the repartee was chuckleworthy (keeping me going) but the realisation that, for example, ghastly people like Beyonce really exist finally drove me away.
I could stand the presumably authentic Welsh mix of third person singular and plural ('E have') but the 'C'm year' prelude to another panacea hug scraped the nerves every time.
It's a great ad for contraception too with the phone constantly interrupting for yet another event-disrupting pathetic drama with one of the clueless kids. And for other reasons.
And when it comes to excruciating over-acted facial contortions, Bobs, Nadine and sneering Little Al come equal worst.
Some of the repartee was chuckleworthy (keeping me going) but the realisation that, for example, ghastly people like Beyonce really exist finally drove me away.