How we used to live
http://www.rabennett.co.uk/buy/property/3-bedroom-house-in-winchcombe,gl54-for-guide-price-gbp-700,000-ref-1793328/
How fucking much?
And they've completely destroyed the character of the place. 'Planning permission for a porch' - well it serves you right for pulling down the old one, doesn't it? Granted it probably didn't need that much pulling, but it was an ideal place to store a couple of weeks' worth of logs. Apparently you can also install a second bog. I believe that should read 'replace the bog that you threw out during the alleged 'sympathetic modernisation''. Sympathetic to what, exactly? Seventies Svensk pr0n? And. See that bloody stupid 'island' thing in the alleged kitchen? There should a Kawa GT550 in that space.
Honestly, let some people have a nice house and they ruin it. Still, at least the telly is in the traditional corner.
(Actually, I would lay odds that property-developer chap has run out of money. Ha!)
For those new to this game, I used to live there. It was a bit of a tip, but it was our tip. Where 'our' parses out to 'Set of people who grew up locally and quite liked the idea of being able to stick around and, y'know, contribute to the rural economy', rather than let it all go a bit Sevenhampton where the majority of houses are now second homes and belong to some fucker off the telly, some fucker from a bank or some generic execu-twat. Their contributions to the rural economy amount to a monthly visit to the pub for a Sunday lunch and lording it over the proles who have to live in the council houses round the back of Winchcombe and/or picking up a bag of Fairtrade coffee from the M&S at Reading services on the way up of a Friday. Yes, I know the Cotswolds have been where London-based twats who've made a bundle have pitched up to buy (or build) something charming since just after the Great Fire, but it still doesn't make it easier to bear. Actually, it was probably the Romans that started the rot. After all, there's a mosaic in the shed that you'll find in the middle of the field to the left of the place. And you probably wouldn't be going up the M4 unless you were going to the Cirencester end of the Cotswolds. Presumably those going up the M40 to their weekend retreats after a hard week of commissioning shit monkey-tennis teevee get their provisions delivered by Ocado.
How fucking much?
And they've completely destroyed the character of the place. 'Planning permission for a porch' - well it serves you right for pulling down the old one, doesn't it? Granted it probably didn't need that much pulling, but it was an ideal place to store a couple of weeks' worth of logs. Apparently you can also install a second bog. I believe that should read 'replace the bog that you threw out during the alleged 'sympathetic modernisation''. Sympathetic to what, exactly? Seventies Svensk pr0n? And. See that bloody stupid 'island' thing in the alleged kitchen? There should a Kawa GT550 in that space.
Honestly, let some people have a nice house and they ruin it. Still, at least the telly is in the traditional corner.
(Actually, I would lay odds that property-developer chap has run out of money. Ha!)
For those new to this game, I used to live there. It was a bit of a tip, but it was our tip. Where 'our' parses out to 'Set of people who grew up locally and quite liked the idea of being able to stick around and, y'know, contribute to the rural economy', rather than let it all go a bit Sevenhampton where the majority of houses are now second homes and belong to some fucker off the telly, some fucker from a bank or some generic execu-twat. Their contributions to the rural economy amount to a monthly visit to the pub for a Sunday lunch and lording it over the proles who have to live in the council houses round the back of Winchcombe and/or picking up a bag of Fairtrade coffee from the M&S at Reading services on the way up of a Friday. Yes, I know the Cotswolds have been where London-based twats who've made a bundle have pitched up to buy (or build) something charming since just after the Great Fire, but it still doesn't make it easier to bear. Actually, it was probably the Romans that started the rot. After all, there's a mosaic in the shed that you'll find in the middle of the field to the left of the place. And you probably wouldn't be going up the M4 unless you were going to the Cirencester end of the Cotswolds. Presumably those going up the M40 to their weekend retreats after a hard week of commissioning shit monkey-tennis teevee get their provisions delivered by Ocado.