What happened to the previous gardening rota? The last time we saw this garden, Lynne was slaving away whilst George thought about his socks. I suppose Lynne has now had enough of this and has decided to lounge around in her underwear instead. George is sitting in the same sort of deckchair that we saw before, albeit with a different fabric back. No drink for George this time; perhaps it is too early.
How big is this garden? From different angles we have seen the next door neighbour's fence but also miles of untarnished sky. It seems that no other house backs on to George's semi. The garden has a number of trees and overgrown grass, so maybe it does need a gardener. If they get one, they should tell Sammy and 'Mantha about it as their garden is messing with Sammy's body clock.
Ok, we've put this off long enough so let's discuss it. Has George just not noticed the stares of the public and the outrageous flirting of Lynne? Just this week a builder whistled a non de-script tune at Lynne. Earlier a number of men stopped digging to stare at Lynne in her hotpants. I'm sorry George but everyone ogles at Lynne. She is an attractive woman and people will look at her. A gardener is the least of his worries. It is obvious that Lynne does not work and will lounge around the garden all day. A gardener is most likely to work during the day, and as it seems to be perpetually hot in Wimbledon, Lynne is most likely to be sunbathing topless. It is well known in the trade that gardeners are sex starved perverts, so the last thing they need is a topless Lynne while they are working. George has two options: either go to some sort of gay gardeners agency, or build Lynne a sun trap tree house in the many trees in his garden. But of course for this he may need a gardener. It's a vicious cycle.
I'm sure you know this already, but just in case - you can buy original George and Lynne panels here
ReplyDeletehttp://www.georgeandlynne.com/
And I think one of the Spitting Image books did 'George and Lynne Meet The Gambols'
Yes, they met the 'Gumboils' in the first SI book. 'I hope no-one minds, I hate wearing clothes'
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