I can’t get a read on Paul Hollywood.
Ali looks like he’s about to lose all sphinctal control.
Is Glen modelling his look on Hollywood?
Mary Berry is a magnificent woman.
Becca. Put the grapefruit away. Hollywood’s eyes say it all.
Howard is from the future.
Mark is a poor man’s Glen. Making a cake shaped like a lemon
sounds difficult, but is it really?
Who is that girl?
Ali, are you kidding with this rose and lychee number? Only
works in a martini honey (my signature drink as you will surely know).
Her name is Ruby.
I love a piping bag.
Obviously Mark’s lemon shaped cake plan went to hell.
OHMYGODRUBYSCRYINGWHYISSHECRYINGOHTHISISAWFUL.
People are scattering flowers over their cakes. Is this a
thing?
Apple and Pecan? In comes the hippy ship.
Oh Howard, we don’t want a seeping filling. Come come.
Of course you are in shock Ali, it’s your default state.
What’s this Sue? Historical context?
She says the courting cake is back: We say it never left.
Do Hollywood and Mary socialise outside the show? I get the
impression Mary has better things to do.
Two girls have told me they fancy Toby. Apparently,
uselessness is sexy. Thank heavens for that.
Mary likes a good rise and nice thickness.
Am I just descending into smutty innuendo? Maybe.
“It has happened before. Salt rum baba. 2012.” Fucking mare.
I wonder if ‘fucking mare’ is an accepted truncation of
‘fucking nightmare’ or whether I was just being too cool. Best check.
Has Paul been wearing velour the entire episode?
Don’t Google ‘fucking mare’.
Show stopper round? Are they ACTUALLY going to bake Hugh
Jackman?
A common misinterpretation of Berkley’s theory there Ruby.
“Still wet inside.” Oh grow up.
Tiny Tempah. Nice one Mel.
Toby isn’t so much baking as self harming. Any more kitchen
plasters and he can join the blue man group.
Howard’s bear blows my mind.
Rob to win.
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