Casanova tonight broke my heart. I wept, then I was a bit icked with Casanova's son, and I wept. Then I wept some more. As the credits rolled over a beautiful moonlit Venetian scene, I was caught up in the beauty and the sadness of Casanova's life.
And it was right about there that Phil bloody Mitchell spewed forth a dire litany of threats for a promo for EastEnders.
And lo, my heart was filled with RAGE.
Not even Chrissie's perm could induce the vendetta for that bloody programme I have now.
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