As a modern wannabee middle class housing estate on the outskirts of Basingstoke, Hatch Warren sometimes feels like it has little appeal. However, as the rain once again cascades across this green and tarmacked land, living over six hundred feet above sea level and looking down on the rest of Hampshire all of a sudden seems more appealing than it once did. Because this area is essentially houses and a retail park it really doesn't feel like it ...
I have been doing quite a lot of work for one particular client this year, assisting them with not only their recruitment process but also with sales, marketing and sending apology letters to clients who have just paid £1.19 to receive a Christmas card. It has been an enjoyable six months, as the thrill of working somewhere that isn't my kitchen table, is one that only a person who has ran their own business for fifteen years can experience.
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Sometimes I worry myself irrationally that my grandchildren will live in a world where an evenings entertainment for them consists of eating as much limp salad as they want in a Harvester restaurant as they sip John Smiths extra smooth bitter whilst some music created by the devil sperm of Simon Cowell plays in the background. It is a world that would almost certainly send me for a walk in the forest with a revolver.
Then, just as I am ...
This week has not really been a great one so far, it has featured a seized up knee, another defeat for hapless Reading FC (currently sinking faster than an Italian cruise ship) and a youngest son going through a teenage menopause that is giving him the temperament of a rattlesnake.
Just when I didn't think it could get any worse I got a phone call from my eldest sister, Lorna, asking for an unwritten but verbally binding contract stating ...
I watched the last five minutes of X Factor last night, the first time I have witnessed this jamboree of old shite since I found myself emotionally disturbed by some deluded ugly kid getting bullied by perennial bell end, Simon Cowell, five years ago or so.
What I saw last night was worse than I could have imagined, there was some sort of Plan B lookalike bellowing out a shit a song in a non-descript manner whilst a selection of hysterical ...