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SLAPHEAD OPEN 7am-5pm Sandwich Bar
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Oh dear, Ben’s iPad suddenly conked out while he was working on The Edge’s page 3 caricature this month, readers, so unfortunately it’ll have to wait until the December editions. Instead, can you readers guess what The Edge went to see recently at the Chelmsford Odeon?
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DRAMA
LAKE DISTRICT
Thank god for TV dramas, such as Killing Eve, at this particular time of the year, because together with the odd novel or three, they’re the only thing that keeps me mildly sane as the nights draw in. Even before the clocks went back, I’ve sometimes been in bed by 7.30pm (no kidding) reading a book, although I might get up and treat myself to a bowl of cereal a couple of hours later for me supper, like. Talk about a rock’n’roll lifestyle!
Just to warn you, there’s a fair bit in this months mag about my recent trip to the Lake District because you know what I’m like by now!
BREXIT
The Edge Editor’s Column GRIDLOCK What I’ve been banging on about for the past couple of years seems to have finally come to fruition. Chelmsford town/city centre has reached gridlock proportions, certainly so far as Saturday afternoons are concerned. As I write this, I’ve just been caught in it for the very last time, because I won’t be going near the centre of Chelmsford on 4-wheels at that time of the day/week in future ever. No way. Complete waste of time. We’ve created all of these blinkin’ new homes, but we haven’t invested in the infrastructure to go with them. So honestly, what the hell did anyone expect? Nightmare. Total bloody nightmare.
CHRISTMAS I don’t really hate Christmas as much as I like to make out, but it is kind of, well, samey and repetitive, don’t you think? So paella this Crimbo day for lunch, me thinks.
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Wouldn’t it be great if, post Brexit, we can once again prosper as a nation? Somewhat remarkably, a bit like Gareth and his boys fortunately seem to be doing on the footie pitch.
BIG HOLE Word reaches The Edge that sales have drastically fallen for 9 of the 10 biggest mint brands. For instance, Polo Mint sales alone are down almost 10% . Total annual mint sales are a colossal £150 million. But honestly, who really gives a shit?
PERFECTION You honestly can’t say that about very much at all, can you? But I feel very comfortable saying it about The Stores (see page 14) after every single, wonderful, blissful visit/mouthful.
DELHI
SOLSBURY HILL
I’m going to have to ask for the help of any of you readers out there who’ve ever visited Delhi, the Taj Mahal (no, not the one in Baddow Road), Jaipur and Udaipur, because I’m wondering whether it’s possible to cram all of that little lot in to a fortnight, as well as some chilled out beach time in South Goa (is Benaulim the best area to be based down there?).
You know when you cannot stop singing a song to yourself, inside your own head? Well, I’ve had Peter Gabriel’s ‘Solsbury Hill’ on my mind for the past few days. As songs go, it’s not the worst one to be continually reverberating on the innner walls of one’s cranium, but I just don’t know how it got there, as I don’t particularly remember hearing it any time recently. I saw him in concert at Earl’s Court once, the fellow Gabriel. At one point he stood on the edge of the stage, with his back to the audience, raised his arms into the crucifix position, and then just fell backwards into the crowd. Which seemed like a rather apt way to get your wallet stolen, I remember thinking at the time.
WHISTLING IN THE SHOWER I‘ve just caught myself whistling the Andy Williams classic ‘Music to watch girls go by’ in the shower, then promptly realised just what a sexist title for a song that is, so immediately turned the taps so that I was doused by freezing cold water before starting to swiftly hammer myself in the groin with a right stiff loofah in order to hopefully show sufficient penance to no-one in particular, as nobody else was there. Still, had there been, they would have realised that I was attempting to make ammends.
COVERS ON Covered up our patio furniture on 22.10.18. Sad. THE EDGE Chelmsford CM2 6XD 077 646 7 97 44 shaun@theedgemag.co.uk
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This was the very first photograph I took when we were away in the Lake District recently, because I just love dry stone walls - only didn’t they ought to be called wet stone walls up in The Lakes, as just check out the moss. I guess this little fetish of mine is to be expected, having grown up in Yorkshire, but surely even you southerners can appreciate the way they seem to meander, can’t you? The green mossy coating only adds to the effect, I feel. Every picture tells a story and surely these Cumbrian walls are saying: “You’re in the Lake District now, and make no mistake, you’re going to get soaked.” Although we stayed dry all week....yayyyyyyy! They even run Dry Stone Walling courses for enthusiasts, you know, as opposed to builders, instructing how to make the foundation, the first lift, the second lift, and finally the cope. You do end up looking at them and wondering how the hell they haven’t fallen over, but amazingly some of them date back as far as the Iron Age (although you’d think it would be the Stone Age, wouldn’t you, as surely Fred and Barney must have laid a few in their time). When The Edge first spotted this, it thought Spin’s gardener had been out with the sheers a proper Edward Scissorhands, as it were. But as President Trump might say: “FAKE GRASS!” But hey, like prosthetic boobs, in no way does the outcome diminish the effect. It’s a nice touch, is what it is. Spin’s definitely got an eye for things, and let’s face it, he’s never made a bad job of anything, has he? So check out The Lion Inn’s Crimbo advert on page 11 this month and get your festive lunch or dinner booked in December.
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You have to be a bit of a fan of ‘The Inbetweeners’ to understand that particular term, but seeing as it’s yours truly on the top deck of an open-top bus in the Lake District, on route from Bowness to Ambleside, I reckon the term probably fits. I am pretty partial to a bit of an open-top bus tour, as it goes, as (a) you get a damn good view of all that surrounds you, and (b) as a rule, you tend to get some pretty whiffy people on buses, so the fact there’s no roof helps alleviate any offensive odours, if you know what I mean? For instance, the old dear sat immediately in front of me proper stank of TCP, although I assure you, that is by no means the worst of it. It’s those somewhat NLS (natural lingering smells) that most offends me and my pristine nasal cavities. Anyway, back to the view, and as you can see, it had somewhat (rhymes with kumquat) clouded over on this particular day, after unbelievably blue skies with fluffy white clouds over Lake Windemere the very day after we arrived for our week long stay at the tail end of September. And as our DD ambled in to Ambleside, I almost immediately spotted a cafe called the Apple Pie Shop that I thought might be good. Right on cue, my wife piped up that one of her clients had recommended this particular cafe to her, so off we jolly well trotted for some elevenses. Only let The Edge tell you, dear readers, that never again will it purchase anything without PVE (prior visible evidence), for I was surely served the blandest slice of (supposedly home-made) carrot cake that it has ever been my misfortune to have placed in front of me in the entire history of carrot cake making. Shocking, it was, and it caused me to have ‘a cob on’, due to the fact that I’m a bit that way inclined, for the remainder of the day, as I can be slow to shake stuff off.
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We provide reliable and cost effective leaflet, booklet, menu and magazine door drop distribution. Distribute4u offer packages to suit every budget. Our clientbase ranges from well known High Street brands to tradesmen, local leisure centres, estate agents etc. WHY? Because leafleting works for all types of businesses! We cover Chelmsford and the surounding area, plus SS, RM and IG postcodes. Check out our website for more information and our Blog tips on what to include on your leaflet. 10% discount on your very first order when you mention The EDGE! Vacancies in your area - apply today on the Distribute4u website www.distribute4u.info Telephone: 0795 723 6299 shaun@theedgemag.co.uk
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Here’s The Edge’s main man, Jan (pronounced Yan) Attrell, of Zagger, who The Edge recently went on a school night date with, without (drumroll please) any alcohol being consumed (read all abart it on page 20 this month, folks). Fact is, some of you kids out there who’re looking for lurve should try the ‘no alcohol’ rule when you’re meeting a potential beau, as without the crutch of some Olde Mother’s Ruin, it allows you to get a far better perspective of the person you’re meeting and trying to get to know. As a result, Yan and I got along like a house on fire and I’m very much looking forward to accepting his invitation to spend the weekend round at his place, whilst also getting to know his wife and daughter much better into the bargain. Man-about-town Jan can be booked for interviews and autographs at the Bond Street Zagger store, opposite John Lewis. Failing that, he can often be seen pushing a wheelbarrow full of tatties back home along Parkway, fresh from his allotment, as the Attrell family eat a lot of potato soup in order to make ends meet, having caught a leaky boat over here from the Polish mainland.
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There are some exciting times are ahead for C&C, with a cooking demo coming up in January and the potential of a food stall on the horizon. We would honestly really love to hear from you guys. Just tell us what you would really like to see on our menus? Please drop us a message on Instagram. We are now truly entering winter territory. Christmas products are slowly filling the shelves in the shops, the nights are well and truly drawing in and it’s only natural that we start craving cosy comfort food. So what better excuse to throw together a big warming family dish than bonfire night.
Veggie Sausage & Kale Stew Yep, you read it right! And this is honestly a really good dish if you use the right sausages. There are lots of great alternatives out there these days, but for this particular recipe, we have used the Cauldron brand.
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Ingredients: olive oil 1 onion 2 cloves of garlic 1 lemon 1 teaspoon fennel seeds ½ teaspoon crushed chilli 1 fresh bay leaf 6 sausages 1½ tablespoons plain flour 1 x 400 g tin chopped tomatoes 500ml organic vegetable stock 1 large handful of kale Instructions: Peel and slice the onion. Add to a pan with one tablespoon of olive oil. Fry for 5 to 7 minutes, or until softened. Peel, finely slice and add the garlic. Then peel 3 strips of zest from the lemon. Add to the pan along with the spices and bay leaf. Cook for one to two minutes. Chop the sausages and toss with flour. Then add to the pan and cook until browned all over. Pour in the tomatoes and stock and bring to a simmer. Let it bubble away for 20 minutes. Chop and add the kale and cook for 5 minutes. Then serve and enjoy.
Vegan Mushroom Rolls Ingredients: 1 onion 2 stalks of celery olive oil 500g chestnut mushrooms 2 cloves of garlic 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard 100ml white wine sea salt freshly ground black pepper 80g fresh white breadcrumbs ½ bunch of fresh flat-leaf parsley 2 sprigs of fresh thyme 2 sheets of ready-rolled puff pastry (640g) - we used Jus Rol almond milk 2 teaspoons sesame seeds
Cook for 10 to 15 minutes, or until golden. Finely chop the mushrooms. Peel and crush in the garlic, then add the chopped mushrooms. Cook for a further 5 minutes or until the mushrooms start to soften. Add the mustard and wine, season with salt and pepper, then reduce the heat to low. Cook for 5 to 10 minutes, or until all the liquid has boiled and bubbled away. Set aside to cool. Add the cooled mushroom mixture and breadcrumbs to a large bowl. Pick, finely chop and add the parsley leaves, then add in the thyme leaves. Stir well to combine, before seasoning to taste. Cut the sheets of puff pastry in half lengthways so you have four equal-sized pieces. Spoon a quarter of the mushroom mixture along the middle of one length of pastry, moulding it into a long sausage shape with the back of a spoon. (We actually made one giant roll to be cut up and shared, which works equally as well!) Brush the almond milk along the pastry edges, then carefully fold one of the long sides of the pastry up over the filling. Press the edges to seal, then crimp with a fork. Repeat with the remaining ingredients until you have four long rolls. Cut each length into four pieces. Place the rolls on the prepared baking tray, brush with the almond milk and sprinkle over the sesame seeds. Pop on the bottom shelf of a hot oven for 25 to 30 minutes, or until golden. Then serve and, of course, enjoy.
Preheat oven to 200ºC/400ºF/gas 6. Line a large baking tray with greaseproof paper. Peel and finely chop the onion, then trim and finely chop the celery. Heat 1 tablespoon of olive oil in a large frying pan over a medium-high heat and add the chopped veg. Page 8
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Wine Myths continued... Myth - Sulphites cause hangovers After the consumption of wine, a lot of people blame their bad headaches on sulphites. There may be some of you who do have an allergic reaction to sulphites. One way to check is to eat a dried apricot. There is more sulphur in just one apricot than in the average bottle of wine. Sorry to inform you, but hangovers are caused by alcohol, not sulphites. Myth - A silver spoon keeps bubbly fresh The idea of this is to keep the bubbles inside the bottle and seems a popular pastime with many people’s grannies! But no, it doesn’t work. The double fermentation process produces a lot of carbon dioxide, leading to an internal pressure of around 5-6 atmospheres. The only way to keep the gas in the bottle is to use an airtight stopper. Keeping any leftover champers in the fridge will also help it to retain some of its fizz for a day or two. What about serving temperatures? White wines are generally served cooler than reds and in an era of fridges and ice, this has come to mean ice-cold. Reds, meanwhile, are to be served at ‘room temperature’, a term derived at a time when the indoor temperature may have hovered around 60 degrees. Serving whites too cold hides nuances and complexities. Conversely, mediocre whites ought to be served ice-cold; the temperature masks any flaws. Reds are a tad trickier, depending on the age and the texture of the wine. Ideally, a bottle should be slightly cool to the touch. Modern room temperature can often leave a good red seeming flabby or tired. A slight chill is bracing to the wine. Tannic wines served too cold can seem tough and unpleasant. If a bottle seems too warm, 15 minutes in the fridge can work wonders.
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Myth - Only white wine goes with fish Some white wines do complement the delicate flavours of certain types of fish, but it’s certainly not a definitive rule. It all depends on the type of fish you’re eating and if it is served with sauce. For example, pan-fried salmon works perfectly with New Zealand Pinot Noir. The meaty texture of swordfish pairs nicely with a glass of Merlot. Prawns in a garlicky, tomatoey sauce with pasta? Try Sangiovese. It’s all about experimenting and learning what works. Myth - Red Wine With Cheese There is a belief that cheese only goes with red wine. On my cheese and wine tasting nights we look at creamy cheeses with red wines and hard cheeses with white wines. Generally speaking, most people prefer the white wines with virtually every cheese, whereas the reds can clash, particularly with the soft and creamy cheeses.
E
ssex Wine School is an independent wine education company that offers fun informal wine tasting events and Wine & Spirit Education Trust (WSET) courses, both in Chelmsford and Colchester. For more information please contact Neil Bull DipWSET, Certified Educator, on 01371 267260, or visit www.essexwineschool.com The Edge 01245 348256
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It stands for Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response and The Edge has never heard of anything quite (so daft?) like it. For instance, do you think it would relax you to watch someone (presumably on your TV screen, as opposed to the person being in the same room as you) spreading lemon curd onto a piece of freshly made toast? Or perhaps someone folding up some fluffy white towels? Absolute codswallop, isn’t it? Or is it. Fact is, if you get a certain sense of pleasure and satisfaction from watching people engaged in meticulously performed menial tasks, you might be (nuts?) among a large chunk of the population who experience a phenomenon only just being understood (you can say that again) by ‘those men and women wearing white coats’ called ASMR. For those of us who have never experienced an ASMR (that’s right, get your hands up so that The Edge can see them), it is apparently somewhat difficult to explain (I’ll bet). Get this, readers: “It’s a bit like tingling mixed with euphoria.” What, from lemon curd on toast???
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“It’s like getting the shivers from listening to a piece of exceptional music (what, like ‘Come On, Eileen’?) or a stirring half-time speech” (Neil Warnock, anyone? No, thought not). Scientists think it involves the release of endorphins in the brain and may affect a third of us, but they admit they are somewhat scratching their Tefal heads and are struggling to explain it (what a surprise, not). Most who feel this somewhat strange phenomena figured they were alone, until the arrival of the internet, where there are now whole ASMR communities bursting at the seams. YouTube apparently has 13 million ASMR videos ranging from Margot Robbie (The Edge had never even heard of her and had to look her up) spreading Vegemite (3 million views) to a chap having a suit fitted (8 million views) - “Do you hang to the left or the right? Suit you, sir.” But lo and behold, China has seen fit to BAN all such videos, on the grounds that they regard them as both “vulgar and pornographic”. Meanwhile, a boffin in a white lab coat says, “People who don’t get it find it all a bit weird. Creepy even. But those that do just love it.” Okay, okay, The Edge has heard enough of all of this and, for what it’s worth, here’s this publication’s official take on the matter. When I was a lad at primary school, I loved football and I had ‘a good left foot’ (quite rare, or so it seems). But I was also a bit of a chubster, so the sports masters would always put me in the school football teams, but in defence, at left-back. So I worked at it, lost weight and graduated to left-midfield by the time I reached secondary school. Then, by the time grammar school came along, aged 13-15, I’d worked hard at my fitness a whole lot more and I got to play as a striker. And honestly, when I started scoring goals and the ball would make that lovely swishing sound into the back of the net, I used to get this incredible tingling feeling at the back of my neck and it would run down my spine and it felt absolutely fantastic. Such euphoria. So could that be a form of ASMR? No, thought not. This really is a strange one. Okay, so we have a CD of a real fire burning that my wife sometimes puts onto our TV screen when she’s decorating the Christmas Tree or having a few sherry and mince pies with ‘the girls’. So is that a sort of an ASMR kinda ting? Sure, The Edge gets the whole lemon curd/fluffly towels gig because it’s all a bit like watching Nigella in the kitchen. But to actually experience a physical sensation? Hmmmmm, I’m not at all sure about that. The Edge 077 646 797 44
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I simply couldn’t walk away from my car and leave it parked like this. Could you, readers? You’ve got to have a modicum of self-respect in your car parking abilities, haven’t you? But this particular driver clearly doesn’t have any such scruples. Whenever Lengthy-Boy pops round to ‘Edge Towers’, he always makes a point of parking as hideously as this on purpose, as it never ceases to amaze us when some folk seem to do it by accident. USELESS But hey, if you get it wrong, you can always start all over again and have another stab at it, can’t you? Or you can simply not give a shite, lock the doors, admit you cannot park for toffee and walk away from what looks to all intent and purposes to be a completely abandoned vehicle. In fact, The Edge is surprised it doesn’t have a couple of blue and white ‘Police Aware’ stickers stuck to it, because this shabby effort deserves to.
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HE’S DEFFO...
...THE DADDY!
The Stores Coffee, brunch & lunch
On the day we were travelling back home from the Lake District, we decided to pay a visit to Chester Zoo, which is kind of on route (a bit). We’d been tut Lakes with the wife’s sister and her husband, Beatrix and Harry Potter, and it was their idea to go visit the zoo, whereas I’d have preferred a day looking around Chester, which I’ve heard is a lovely city. But you can’t be a selfish twat all your life, can you - although believe you me, readers, I give it a bloody good go. Strangely enough, The Edge had mentioned Chester Zoo in it’s September editions - in it’s Destination UK article - as it’s the most visited zoo in the UK. It’s also a bit cheaper to get in if you pre-book your tickets online, otherwise they’ll charge you £25pp for the privilege. Fortunately it was a lovely day, but it didn’t take me long to start wondering just what the hell I was doing there. (a) I don’t particularly like zoos (b) I’m not even convinced they’re ethically right, if you know what I mean? Bottom line, it really, really upsets me when the animals in captivity (because that’s what they are) look truly unhappy, bored stiff and miserable. Take these monkeys (up top), for instance. They ain’t monkeying around, are they? No, they’re just hanging around, looking out, knowing that they’re caged in. In an ideal world, their freedom is what they want, make no mistake. They want to get the hell out of there. The orangutans particularly disturbed me. Then there was a male lion just pacing back and forth, back and forth. Surely you don’t need to have a degree in zoology to realise that’s a sign of stress and discontent? A visit to the strange smelling Chiroptera house was somewhere I particularly rushed through as many people came out wiping bat shit off their heads and clothing. Fortunately I wasn’t one of them. But I was genuinely fleetingly exciting to get the merest glimpse of not one, but two jaguars - one with a mottled brown coat and one jet black. It immediately crosses your mind just what little chance you’d stand against one out in the wild. But most of all it was the people who were visiting Chester Zoo that most disturbed yours truly. If you ever feel as though you need conformation that obesity is indeed reaching epidemic proportions, then (a) go visit a zoo, or (b) go ‘oop north’ in general. My god, some of the sights were truly frightening. Oh and I just loved getting ripped off on their crumby little monorail.
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The Edge 265_The Edge 172.qxd 24/10/2018 10:51 Page 18
First of all, if you’re a bit of a sun worshipper, like your editor is, then you don’t necessarily need to shit yourself when your wife tells you that she’d like to go up tut Lake District for a week’s break. Fact is, IF you’ve got ‘beginner’s luck’ on your side, like we had, then amazingly, it won’t rain on you. And for us, PRAISE THE LORD, it thankfully remained dry all week long. And hey, nor do you need to feel obliged to walk. I mean, just look how clean my boots are. But wear ’em right and be carrying something on your back and who’s to know you haven’t just yomped 10 miles before lunch?
We pretty much treated our time in The Lakes like a bit of a reconnaissance mission, but we did manage to fit in a couple of tidly walks. The first was easy and a bit of a walk in the park, but the view was fantastic. Basically, cross over the road from Booth’s supermarket (it’s a belter; Waitrose standard even) at the top of Windemere, right by the tourist information shop, and just follow the arrows and start heading upwards. Honestly, it’s a blinding little walk and you can be up and down within 75 mins. The second walk we did was from the Grizedale Recreational Centre (or whatever it’s called).
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It was graded as ‘a strenuous 2 hour walk’ in our little guide book, but I reckon we tackled it within 1hr. 30mins. However, I would not recommend it. Why? Well, because you’re covered by bloody trees until you get to the summit and once there, the view isn’t half as spectacular as the view overlooking Windemere. But I appreciate we only scratched the surface. When we return, and we will, I honestly think you need to have carefully researched which walks you want to do, because The Lakes isn’t a place to idly nonce about; you need to get it right. Just like the 6P’s say: proper preparation prevents piss poor performance. Talking of ‘noncing about’, Bowness is pretty much ideal for that (not to be confused with Windemere, which is further up tut road). In all honesty, I was staggered by just how cosmopolitan it was. In my mind, I’d pretty much expected it to be filled with serious hiking shops and all terrain clothing warehouses, but it’s surprisingly pretty chic. Hey, they even had a Cornish Bakery (opposite Costa) and The Edge just loves a Cornish Bakery (thank god Chelmsford hasn’t got one or I’d be in a far worse state than I already am). Okay, so getting a little bit more serious, one day we did a 125 mile journey around The Lakes (you know, to check it out a bit) and when I looked at my tripometer thingy upon our return, my average speed had been just 26mph, so don’t go there thinking you’ll get anywhere fast, because it’s simply not that sort of a place. We headed off up the A592 from our base near Crosthwaite and it was thick fog at the Kirkstone Pass Inn (unbelievable). Then we veered off onto the A5091 and took a right-hand turn to Thackthwaite (bloody great name, that) before joining the A66 and heading west to Cockermouth (titter ye not).
But we veered off the A66 onto the B5292, upon the advice of ERC (Edge reader Chris) who is a regular visitor to The Lakes, and then down the B5289 where we stopped off for a Ploughman’s Lunch at The Bridge in Buttermere, which we loved (both the lunch and Buttermere Lake).
Then you loop round to pick up the B591 before heading back to base via Grassmere and Ambleside (there’s a fantastic garden centre at Ambleside for all of The Edge’s green fingered readers). All in all, it was a day spent ogling some truly quite breathtaking scenery. So it’s like I said at the beginning of this article. For my sins, I love a bit of the old ‘current bun’ and if it had been grey and wet and (pretty much) miserable, then I honestly don’t think it would have been for me (because where’s the pleasure in greyness, wetness and misery?). There’s ardent walkers, and then there’s normal folk (who like to ‘nonce around’). But if you’re as lucky as we were, the Lake District is genuinely capable of catering for both types.
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SUNDAY ROAST I was out with the family a few Sunday’s ago and in the hunt for a pub that served a traditional Sunday Roast. Unfortunately, due to it being a last minute thing, all of our favourite restaurants were fully booked, so we were left with the unenviable task of trying to find a new place to visit. Normally a Food Standards Agency rating of 5 is required and is always high on our agenda, which led us to a little pub in the Baddow area. It was a traditional old pub and appeared to be frequented by a number of regulars, which is generally a sure sign that the beer and food is up to scratch, right? Wrong! What I had was probably the worst roast dinner ever served outside of a hospital. Granted it was only £9 for the roast beef, but it was cooked as though it was a piece of an old tractor tyre. It looked like one of those poor Facebook pictures at Christmas where someone who can’t cook has just tried to rattle up a roast for 12 people and you feel incredibly sorry for them. Personally, I think I’m quite good at cooking a roast dinner, so it always makes me wonder how many restaurants can get it so badly wrong. Granted there are some excellent local places virtually on our doorstep, such as the Anchor in
Danbury, the Six Bells in Boreham and even the Toby Carvery knocks up some decent roasted spuds, if you don’t mind the idea of little kids digging there hands in or sneezing on them. So I put it to you readers, where around Chelmsford serves up the best Sunday roasts? Answers on a postcard, or tweet me @billyhinken.
THE BODYGUARD Like probably many of you reading this, I was hooked on The Bodyguard, which concluded last month. For those of you who didn’t seen it, it was not a remake of the Whitney Houston classic (and I do mean classic), but the story of a troubled war veteran assigned to protect a controversial politician who was the target of a terror plot. Each week the show had me gripped to the edge of my seat with its detailed storyline and subtle plot twists. Forget ‘Netflix & Chill’ - this was a case of ‘Netflix & Netflix’ because I was absolutely hooked from the very
LIFE ASSURANCE
CRITICAL ILLNESS
LIMITED COMPANY
STAYCATION on the BBC iPlayer. Last month, me and the family were looking for a short break in the sunshine, but for one reason or another, we never got around to booking anything. I had time off work and a free diary, so instead we turned our attention to a Staycation. Now me and my missus are big fans of Cornwall, but with our youngest only being 2 months old, we figured the journey down there might be a tad excessive. With that in mind, we decided to rent an Airbnb in the Cotswolds. This was a first for us on two counts; one being that we had never stayed in the Cotswolds and the other that we had never booked through Airbnb. To be fair, our expectations were not that high, but I have to say that we were both very pleasantly surprised. We found ourselves a lovely little farm cottage, full of English countryside charm, in a little place called Stow-on-the-Wold. It was an excellent base to explore everything that was around and
about. Having two little ones, we found there was lots to keep them entertained and occupied from bird parks, to giant playgrounds, to farm parks. The countryside is genuinely breath-taking in parts, yet you are just close enough to major cities for the locals to be
pretty much normal. If you are a fan of walking, fresh air and English pubs, then a trip to the Cotswolds might just be what you’re looking for.
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science in order to benefit mankind.....you know the type of thing/geezer. Journalist Eddie Brock (Hardy) comes across what Drake (nasty piece of work) is really up to and ends up accidently becoming one of his experiments. And there we have it, Venom is born. The rest of the movie is one set-piece after another, including a scene where Brock/Venom gets away on a motorcycle without Brock actually using a key to start it - much to the annoyance of Mr Edge who really is getting pretty pedantic in his old age. This leads to a finale that's somewhat predictable and very CGI heavy (“Is that a pizza topping, lad?”). Overall, I'd give it 7/10 (“I bloody wouldn’t!”). That’s if you’re in a fun frame of mind and someone’s treating you to pizza immediately afterwards!’
With me Polak mucker from Zagger, Jan Vertonghen-Attrell (half hen, half tongue), who sat down beside me with an open-ended big bag of popcorn with no bloody popcorn in it (aye-aye). I’ll be honest and say that The Edge has a bit of a man-crush on Tom Hardy, the same as the vast majority of you ladies seem to. Venom, the character - or whatever you want to call the blue slime - was somewhat incidental. But hey, me pal is up on the history, so take it away, Jan... ‘To part quote Ray Liotta from Goodfellas: “As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangst..........SUPERHERO!” And one in particular I always loved as a kid was Spider-man. In my younger years, when I was still eating tatties’n’cabbage, I was a massive comic book collector. One significant day, when I was a mere 12 year old ginger Pole and fashion couldn't have been further from my mind, Spider-man issue no: 300 came out and sold out extremely quickly during the month of May 1988. The reason for this quick sale was not just the significance of it being the 300th issue, nor the fact that it was a 25th anniversary edition. No, the reason was solely down to a major new character introduced to the comic book world, a villain that would come to cause major problems for ole web’ead for many a year to come. And it was this impact in this particular issue that made the character such a firm favorite of mine to this day. Of course, the villain I am talking about is known as Venom. However, despite that, I must admit that it wasn't a film I was particularly rushing to see because:1. Due to complications of ownership rights between Sony and Marvel, it wasn't true to the comic book’s tale of Venom’s origin (Sony own film rights for Spider-man and all other character in the spider-verse). 2. The trailers I’d seen looked shite. But being as how I rather like Mr Edge, plus with an offer of Moto Pizza to follow as part of the deal, I agreed to be his mate-date for the evening. Two hours later, my first thoughts as we vacated the Odeon were that it wasn’t as shite as I thought it was going to be. Don't get me wrong, as superhero movies go, this isn't the strongest of them by any means. However, it’s also far from being the worst by a long shot. The key to it is that it clearly doesn't take itself too seriously, which works. Plotwise, it’s a case of the geeky guy with power and money who isn't quite as nice as he appears to be in public. In fact, he’s a nasty piece of work doing experiments on the weak and homeless, all in the name of
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Ahem. Thanks for that, Jan. This is your editor now back on the turntable, readers, and I’d been itching to actually eat at Moto Pizza ever since they’d opened, and in no way did the experience disappoint. Instant impression, somewhat amazingly, I thought, was the fact that we turned up there at 8.30pm after watching Venom on a Tuesday evening, still wearing our 3D specs, and every single table was taken. Impressive. As is both the concept and their pizza. But could I name you a slice of a single one I devoured? Nope, I couldn’t. But it’s a brilliant drill because you just turn your tablelight on when you fancy a piece and it’s served to you hot and fresh from their dalek-headed oven (see below). You never know what you’re getting, but the bonus/benefit is that you get to try lots of different flavours. The Polak and I both genuinely love it, despite the fact we were both on the sparkling water (school night for moi, while Vertonghen said he was abstaining from alcohol for the entire month of October), which is truly impressive in my book, as I allow myself to go AWOL on but Friday and Saturday evenings these days (for the time being, at least). Another thing we particularly appreciated about the whole Moto Pizza vibe was that there was no piped music, just the blissful sound of happy people chatting. Georgie-Girl and her crew have well and truly nailed it. They really have. And at the first time of asking too. Fortunately I’ll be going there again soon, for Training Space’s Crimbo Doo, so that’s yet another (rare) evening out to look forward to. Moto Pizza is just a stone’s throw from the Odeon, so check out their outstanding reviews on Facecock and pay them a visit soon, readers. Oh and do finish off with a lovely Frank & Earnest coffee.
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This is the Honister Pass at Buttermere/Barrowdale, right by a slate mine, up in The Lakes, and let The Edge assure you that it is a winding road that is every bit as impressive as I hope this photograph portrays. It rises to 1167ft at its summit and is one of Cumbria’s highest passes with a gradient of 1 in 4. However, when I drove through it, all I could think back to was a time in France when I was driving through the Verdon Gorge with the fuel gauge looking precariously low, and like over there, this is definitely not a place you want to be breaking down. What’s more, it’s times like these, when man meets nature, that nature truly kicks ass and makes you feel so incredibly small and insignificant. Would The Edge dare to venture out walking in a place as desolate as this? God, no. For what if you met someone along the trail who had his teeth in all of the wrong positions and insisted that, “You’ve got a mighty pretty mouth, boy”? Perish the thought. Looks like a trek for only the most experienced walkers in these ’ere damp and gloomy parts, ooh arr.
www.theedgemag.co.uk
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ONLY JOKING! ALL BECAUSE
Lidl's own brand shampoo. Because you're worthless.
WOOF WOOF A dog walks into a telegraph office, picks up a form and writes:‘Woof woof woof woof woof woof woof woof woof.’ The dog then hands the form to the telegraph officer who checks it and says, "That's nine words. You can add another woof for the same price if you like?" The dog replies, "But that would make no sense whatsoever."
Q&A Q. What's black and white and eats like a horse? A. A zebra.
Q&A Q. What do friends and trees have in common? A. They both fall over if you chop at them repeatedly with an axe.
FEWER Donald Trump says to Mike Pence, "The less immigrants we let in, the better." Pence says, "The fewer." Trump says, "I told you not to call me that yet."
KNOCK KNOCK Knock, knock. "Who's there?" "The postman." "The postman who?" "Look, do you want this bloody parcel, or not?"
AFTER ALL An eagle and a squirrel were sitting on a tree branch, watching a farmer plough his field. The squirrel turned to the eagle, but didn't say anything, because squirrels can't talk. Then the eagle ate the squirrel head first, because after all, it's a bird of prey.
Q&A Q. What's the difference between a hippo and a Zippo? A. One's really heavy and the other's a little lighter.
NEXT TIME A boy scout says to his scout leader, "Sir, is this snake poisonous?" The scout leader replies, "No, son. That snake is definitely not poisonous." So the boy picks up the snake, which immediately bites him. He then starts to foam at the mouth and goes into spasms as the other boys look on in horror. The scout leader says, "But that snake sure as hell is venomous. You see, poison is ingested or absorbed, while venom is injected. So let's get it right next time, boys."
Q&A Q. What do you call a deer with no eyes? A. A deer. The absence of sight does not alter its species.
POPE v TRUMP Donald Trump and the Pope are on stage in front of a huge crowd. The Pope turns to Trump and says, "Do you know that with a little wave of my hand, I can make this crowd go wild with joy? And such joy will not be momentary, like that of your followers, but it would also become legendary and go deep in the very hearts of the people for the rest of their lives. And whenever they speak of this day, they will rejoice." Trump replies, "I seriously doubt that. With one little wave of your hand? Show me." So the Pope slaps Trump across his fat face.
TABOO Cosmetic surgery used to be such a taboo subject, but these days you can talk about Botox quite openly and many people don’t even raise an eyebrow.
BIRTHDAY WISHES My wife told me I had completely ruined her birthday. But honestly, I don't see how that can be the case. After all, I hadn’t even remembered it was her birthday, so how can it possibly have been me?
CUSTODY BATTLE A mother who injected her 8 year old daughter with Botox in order to win a beauty pageant has lost her custody battle. Her daughter didn't look surprised.
SURPRISE It was only when my mother asked me to send out the invitations to my brother's surprise birthday party that I first realised he must be her favourite twin.
FALSE ACCUSATIONS? My wife accused me of being a transvestite. So I packed her things and left.
Q&A Q. What's red, rectangular and is bad for your teeth? A. A brick.
CHEAP FLIGHT I was on a cheap flight home the other day when the flight attendant asked, "Would you like dinner?" I enquired, "What are the options?" She replied, "Yes and no".
ESSEX BOYS Q. How many Essex boys does it take to change a lightbulb? A. None at all. They just compliment it on its appearance, but get angry when it won't screw.
FLINTSTONES Q. What's the difference between Dubai and Abu Dhabi? A. The people in Dubai don't like The Flintstones, but the people in Abu Dhabi doooooo.
HARMLESS Q. What do a cigarette and a hamster have in common? A. They're both completely harmless, until you put either one of them in your mouth and set light to them.
REMEMBERING SAVILE The TV news just displayed three images of women who claimed that Jimmy Savile sexually assaulted them. They showed a current picture of each of the women, together with a photograph of each of them taken back in the seventies. The caption read: ‘Now, then. Now, then. Now, then.’
BLUE PAINT Q. What's red and smells of blue paint? A. Red paint.
ZOO I went to a zoo today and the only animal in it was a dog. It was a Shitzu.
SNAIL A fella is sitting at home when there’s a knock on his door. He opened it to see a snail on his door mat. So he picked up the snail and threw it as far as he could. About a year later there's a knock on his door once again. The man opened it to see a really angry little snail on his door mat. "What the f ck was that all about?" demanded * the snail.
TWITTER A man confesses to his doctor, "Doc, you've got to help me. I'm addicted to Twitter." His doctor said, "Sorry, I’m not following you?"
BLADDERED Last Friday my mates and I went out on a real bender. I was absolutely bladdered when I finally staggered through the front door on Sunday evening. Needless to say, the wife gave me a proper tongue lashing. "How would you like it if I disappeared for two or three days in a row?" she screamed at me. "It’d be fine by me," I quipped. Well, Monday came and went and I didn't see either hide nor hair of her. And Tuesday and Wednesday were just the same. But by Thursday, the swelling had gone down down just enough for me to get a fleeting glimpse of her out of the corner of my left eye as she was changing a tyre on her lorry.
PARACHUTE You don't need a parachute to go skydiving. You only need a parachute to go skydiving more than once.
JANITOR’S CLOSET Q. What did the janitor say when he jumped out of his closet? A. "Supplies!"
MUSIC When I heard they had found a cure for dyslexia, it was music to my arse.
TECHNIQUE A German dwarf came to London and went to visit a prostitute. She thought to herself: ‘He'll never manage it. This'll be easy money.’ But just before he started out on her, he put a big spring on each elbow and both kneecaps and proceeded to sh g her senseless and very * much into the middle of next week. She eventually asked him, somewhat breathlessly: "How on earth did you manage that, little man?" He said, "I call it my Foursprung Dwarf Technik technique."
All jokes published are supplied by Edge readers. Please send your ‘egg yokes’ to shaun@theedgemag.co.uk
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8SJUDGH \RXU KHDWLQJ V\VWHP WKH VPDUW ZD\ Save on your bills, feel warmer, lower your carbon footprint
Step 1 7KH 2Î? HU Baddow Road’s i-Squad are proud to have signed up to complete in the toughest Urban Summit Challenge known to man - climbing 12,500 steps over 10 ascents, each 7,370 foot-high, which is the equivalent of scaling El Capitan - a vertical rock formation to be found in Yosemite National Park, Mariposa County, California! On Saturday 1st December, three of the i-Squad team will embark on the climb in one of London's iconic skyscrapers, The Leadenhall Building (aka ‘The Cheesegrater’). With 52 floors, this is not a challenge for the faint-hearted. For the past 8 weeks, the guys have been ditching their Taco Bell lunches in favour of fresh salads, whilst their evenings have been spent mainly on stairmasters down at their local gym. Alongside this, i-Squad are donating ÂŁ3 per in-store transaction and also running various fundraising events. (Please check out their Facebook page to keep updated at www.facebook.com/isquadltd.) Barnardo's is a charity close to business owner Gordon Smith’s heart, as he grew up in foster care and received a lot of support from Barnardo's throughout his childhood. Your donations can help Barnardo's to transform the lives of the most vulnerable children and young people across the UK through the work of their services, campaigning and research expertise. The link for the JustGiving page is:https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/isquad Any contributions/donations to this very worthwhile cause will be greatly appreciated by the i-Squad team.
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During November look out for our tashed up lorries. Chandler Materials will be donating 50p for every delivery to the Movember Foundation. Snap a pic of our lorries on the road and post it to our Facebook or Twitter Page and we will donate ÂŁ1. Collect the set of all 6 vehicles for an additional ÂŁ6 donation. Get the children involved in our colouring competition, pictures can be printed from our Facebook, or alternatively please email lauren@chandlermaterials.co.uk. Prizes for the best entries including a visit to our yard.
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even know Bastard Company had been a bastard, you’re due some cash.
What does this month’s title mean to you? If you hoped we were going to remember that time you and your mates came up with some great wheeze to embarrass your teacher all those years ago, you’ll be disappointed. Back then, did you really think that recasting the Great Debate competition at your school as the Mass Debate was hilarious when discussing it with that young female teacher? It doesn’t seem to possess quite the same level of Wildean wit now, does it? And that time everyone in the class ganged up on the fat kid was riotous back then, but with the hindsight and differing morals that come with age, maybe that was pretty shameful? Anyway, none of that is the subject of this month’s missive from the California coast. No, out here the term ‘Class Action’ has nothing to do with schooldays, and everything to do with this country’s somewhat over-eager desire to knock on the door of a lawyer at any opportunity. Given that the approval rating for lawyers is swimming around in the gutter at an equal level to that enjoyed by politicians and tax collectors, it seems odd that people happily rush to find one at the drop of a hat. Why is that? Well, because the rewards can be worth it. Do you think you’ve had poor service from an internet provider? Sue the bastards. The sofa you bought which was advertised as ‘On Sale’ but was the same price a month ago? Sue the bastards. You hadn’t read the small print on your insurance policy when they refused your claim? Sue the bastards. You get the picture. Instead of taking responsibility for your own ineptitude or lack of diligence in picking a
Mostly these letters don’t require you to actually do anything. You just get on with life and maybe six months later a cheque arrives in your mailbox. Happy days.
service provider, why not sue the company to make yourself feel a little less inadequate. Well, once there have been a couple of such claims, the company will usually negotiate a Class Action lawsuit. This is like plea-bargaining when criminals have been caught and they agree to plead guilty in exchange for a lower sentence. The sued company in effect agrees that it failed in its duty, whatever that was, and will pay out to anyone and everyone that falls under the complaint terms. So instead of having a couple of people to shell out to, the company now has maybe hundreds of thousands of complainants requiring a payment. You personally might not have suffered any damage at all, but as you are part of the class action, you will be entitled to compensation anyway. That seems like a good deal, right?
But here’s the thing. You never get life changing amounts. It’s $10 here, $20 there. Given that there are hundreds of thousands of people getting these small cheques, the overall cost to Bastard Company is monumental. And who do you reckon ends up paying? Yup, you, the very next time your insurance policy or whatever needs renewing and the premium has increased. So that $10 you got in the mail this year goes straight back to Bastard Company next year. Not so happy days. Unless you are a lawyer, of course, because you’ve made a mint out of all these shenanigans. Back there in the UK, the Class Action isn’t quite a thing yet. The law was changed a few years ago to allow US style Class Actions, but few have yet made it to the starting gate. However, as this column has noted before, what starts here often ends up there, so it’s pretty likely unsolicited cheques are coming your way sooner or later.
Well, yes and no. Out here, every couple of months you’ll get an unexpected letter in the mail that explains Bastard Company is being sued in a Class Action lawsuit and you are one of the people that might have a claim.
That’s it for another month. By the time the November Edge hits the newsstands it will be mid-term elections out here. It’s not being overly dramatic to say that the entire future of the US hinges on the outcome. Should the Republicans retain their current all encompassing power we can expect a continued drift to authoritarianism and the end of real democracy. On the other hand, and hopefully, the Democrats will gain some level of control to stop the Orange Monster’s plans for a dictatorship and a return to the 1950s.
So even though you have suffered no harm and didn’t
Keep your fingers crossed for us.
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So, the latest, and arguably the most damning and alarming climate change report to date was recently released, and even though it’s not actually been said, it’s easy to see that the central message is that we’ve pretty much wrecked our chances of a bright and happy future for the human race.
ME & MY adamantium skeleton Doesn’t look that bad to me
Oh sure, there have been the predictable wails of outrage and horror and even some more promises to take drastic action. And hey, this time they really do mean it, honest. But the actions that need to be taken to slow down climate change enough to avoid catastrophic damage to the ecosystem and our way of life as we know it are both sweeping and global, meaning that literally all of us have to start making changes to the way we live our lives, not to mention a radical shift towards green energy and a no less radical but certainly even more unpopular shift in how global finances function. So let’s all be honest for a minute and simply admit what we all know: It’s never going to happen. How many of you are ditching your car and getting the train to work? How many of you are going vegan to help reduce the enormous environmental impact of breeding livestock? I feel fairly confident in
The Kingmeister reports
NICE KNOWING YOU, HUMANITY guessing that the answer to those two questions is hardly any of you, and I’m exactly the same. People have pointed the finger at business and government for years, saying, and rightly so, that they lack the will and the foresight to make the changes we all know are needed. But that finger should be roundly pointed at most of us as well. Collectively, human beings excel at ignoring warning signs and then scrabbling around in a blind panic
to try and fix a problem we all knew was getting worse, but we chose to do nothing about until it was too late. It’s always someone else’s problem until the problem sneaks up and kicks us firmly in the collective balls. Sure, it’s not going to get really bad for another 50 -100 years, right? So it’s our descendants problem, and what idiots they are for being born at the wrong time. So screw ‘em. They’re welcome to it! I read an article a while back about how humans struggle to even see
their future selves as connected to them. It’s why we do daft stuff like drinking until 1am on a week night. We know the hangover won’t hit us until the morning, so maybe, somehow, it won’t. And why should the stupid future ruin a great night out? So if we struggle to deal with that most basic of concepts, then how the hell are we supposed to get our heads around one hundred years into the future? I’ve become the Dr. Strangelove of climate change, in so far as I’ve completely stopped worrying about it. If I’m proven wrong and there’s a sudden outbreak of global altruism, responsibility to future generations, self sacrifice and cooperation, then I’ll eat a big bowl of crow. However, I’m confident I won’t have to, because for starters I’ll probably be dead already by then. I really love humanity, I do. On the whole, I think we’re a wonderful species, but to do what’s necessary to even halt climate change? Nah, we just don’t have it in us. So really, why worry about it? Leave the lights on all night long and the taps running all day. Buy that car you’ve always fancied with the 3 litre turbo lump in it and devour another steak or two. In short, enjoy yourselves and enjoy the world. After all, you might as well, because we’ll be one of the last generations that can.
PAPERBACK WRITER Well, not quite. I doubt I’ll be seeing a paperback version any time soon. But just last month, I finally completed something I’d wanted to do ever since I was a boy. I actually finished writing a full-length novel, and now, when I look at it sitting on my screen in Microsoft Word, it doesn’t seem like a lot. In fact, it’s 104,975 words over a period of around three years and, if anything, it feels as though I’ve been a bit of a slacker. But as I soon realised after starting it, it turns out that writing a novel is bloody hard work, particularly when fitting it in around work and family. A significant part of my working day is spent staring at a computer screen viewing lines of code or writing database scripts (yep, I find it hard to contain my excitement as well) and after anything between 7-10 hours of doing just that, it was always incredibly hard to face turning on my laptop once I’d got home.
Like so many others have done, I’ll be putting my novel out on Kindle and it’s both an exciting and incredibly nerve-wracking prospect all at the same time. I’m sure some people will love the story I wanted to tell and I’m equally certain plenty of other people will think it’s absolute garbage - if anyone bothers to read it at all, that is. I’ve got absolutely no illusions that I’ll publish this novel and become exceedingly rich from it, although if people do like it that much and start throwing money at me, I obviously won’t complain about it either.
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So far, the few people I’ve asked to test-read it for me have been very complimentary, and the fact that one of them is a teacher and has already used my story as an example of creative writing to her students is quite a good sign, I think. Even our very own editor has read some of it, even though I know the subject matter isn’t entirely his cup of tea (I suppose you’d classify my story, ‘Revenant Days’, as a supernatural thriller), which was decent of him. All things considered, I’m pretty much good to go at this point, whilst all that’s really left to do is design a cover and then submit it to Kindle. Luckily my girlfriend has an excellent eye for design and oodles of artistic talent, neither of which I possess, so she’s in charge of that particular department. And, if all goes well, I’ll have it out during the very next month or so.
Consequently, work on my novel was sporadic to say the very least, although usually once I’d began, I’d happily lose myself in it for a few hours, and now that I’ve finished it, I definitely feel as though I’d like to write another one. Or two. Or maybe even three. But if I thought writing it was hard, I’m now going through the process of editing it, which is literally going lineby-line to check for grammatical or spelling errors, something I have to do in bite-sized chunks, otherwise I’d go clinically insane. By far the toughest part of the whole process is reading your own work once again and not wanting to change at least 25% of it. While I’ve made some changes, it has mainly been shaving a little bit here or changing a clunky line of dialogue there. I imagine the art of leaving things alone is something every writer has to learn.
for ages and it’s changed and grown over the years, so I just wanted to tell it and share it with people. I absolutely love reading and if something I’ve created gives others the same pleasure I get from reading a good story, then I’ll be a very happy chappy.
Obviously I’ll put something in The Edge once it’s available for download (hey, what’s the point of having your very own column if you can’t indulge in some shameless self-promotion?), so if any of you do end up reading it, I’d love to know what you think, be it good or bad. Who knows, one day I could be as famous as Chuck Tingle! Any little amount of money I might make from sales would be a bonus, but it’s really not why I did it. I have honestly had the story in my head
Fact is, however many people read it and whatever they think of my work, I’ll still be proud of what I’ve done. Even though it was a lot of long hours and incredibly hard work at times, the main thing I’ll remember is just how much I genuinely enjoyed writing it.
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More than 180,000 novice moped riders were let loose on our roads last year after just one day’s training, reports Jeremy Clarkson. A boom in take-away delivery apps such as Deliveroo and Hungry Horace has prompted a visible influx of rookie riders into larger cities. Yet thousands are driving for a living despite only ever passing the merest Compulsory Basic Training (CBT) course, which does not even formally test knowledge of the Highway Code. A ‘dangerous’ loophole then allows riders onto our streets (and sometimes pavements in order to nick mobile phones from unsuspecting pedestrians) on mopeds or motorbikes of up to 125cc - just like the one Edge columnist Steve Ward rides out in California, capable of speeds up to 60mph - as long as they display learner plates. Figures from the Department of Transport show there were 182,550 CBT certificates issued in the 12 month period to April 2018, but only 40,021 peeps passed their motorcycle test during the same period. The CBT is typically a one-day lesson, costing between £90 - £130, which requires riders aged 16 and above to show they can master simple riding/road skills, such as ‘pulling a wheelie’ and what have you. It is intended to be a temporary certificate of competence while riders prepare for a motorcycle and theory test proper, like what our very own editor undertook back in the day - which costs £113.50 - but lessons can add a further £500 if you are relatively inadequate on two-wheels. But thousands of riders simply choose to remain on the cheaper option for up to a maximum of 2 years, ignoring the shame of having ‘L’ plates displayed on their bikes, then simply retake the CBT course. Have they no pride? Surely this is a bending, disregard and misinterpretation of the rules, not to mention being unacceptable and dangerous? The fact is, there are far too many riders on our roads without even a modicum of understanding of the Highway Code, which is simply asking for trouble. A new theory test, alongside the CBT, was announced in December 2017, although a date for implementation has still to be proposed. N.B. Just a thought/point. How many of us do you think would pass our driving tests if we had to retake them tomorrow, because your editor accepts for a fact that he wouldn’t. I know I would fail on my Highway Code knowledge and although I am an excellent driver (Raymond Babbitt/Dustin Hoffman in RainMan), I’ve obviously picked up bad habits.
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Turmeric is actually something that has been recommended to the Headroom office of late. Apart from sprucing up a curry with the stuff, the spice has been used for medicinal reasons for centuries in the Far East, though is latterly increasing in popularity in the west of late, due to its untold health benefits and mercurial nutritional value.
THOSE WHO SMOKE WEED SHOULD BE PUTTING IT UP THEIR ASS INSTEAD, DOCTORS ADVISE
Instead of crumbling weed into joints or smoking it in a bong, we should all have been stuffing it up where the sun donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t shine, according to quacks in Canada, who say that inserting weed up our backside is far better than smoking it, or even ingesting it. Mikhail Kogan of the Center for Integrative Medicine at George Washington University in Washington DC recently told The Edge, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Rectally is actually a lot more preferred because of the volume of absorption. You can stuff a whole lot more up there and it gets absorbed a whole lot better, but of course not everyone is open to this way of administration.â&#x20AC;? As one doctor put it, â&#x20AC;&#x153;We know opiate painkillers work, but no one suggests that people should smoke opium. So would you put weed up your bum? Yes? No? You already do? Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll try anything once? Fact is, if you smoke it, it poses health risks. And if you eat it, gastric juices get in the way. So instead, why not try going full speed ahead up the Hershey Highway?â&#x20AC;? Having said that, doctors do advise using a suppository. Page 28
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HIGH QUALITY TRAVEL OBSERVATIONS We are running a bit behind this year, in case any loyal readers were wondering whether they were going to miss out on the usual annual collection of hackneyed stereotypes and anecdotes (note from EE: Shouldn’t that say high quality travel observations?). This was in fact due to EE himself bringing the print deadline forward in order to meet his own travel plans. In fact, his travel could well have been in a similar vein to being poolside, as he was in the Lake District after all, but I was probably drier sitting in the shallow end. This year found us in the Canary Islands. A couple of key things struck me, starting with the on-boarding of the aircraft. The sheer amount of hand luggage going into cabins now is truly amazing, whilst the overhead luggage caverns reflect this. The airline industry and plane manufacturers have indeed met the challenge head on, but for totally different reasons. Once upon a time, we were encouraged to travel with just hand luggage and only charged for hold bags we know who is to blame for that, don’t we, Michael? Then the manufacturers responded by making massive lockers, so we stepped up our game and started to bring on ever more luggage that really tested the limits of size regulations. The airlines responded by changing tack and started to charge for cabin bags. We complied. But they didn’t like it, so tried to price us out, telling us that hold luggage is the way forward, but we will legally mug you anyway. And once again, we know who is to blame for that, don’t we, Michael? The upshot of all this is that whilst flying remains the safest form of travel, I now see real risks and danger in the event of an air accident, which is the two tons of luggage that is going to fall onto our heads, should we survive the initial impact. Yes, the plethora of kit we now travel with as normal is absolutely staggering and I am as guilty as the next. I am typing this on the 5.40pm out of Liverpool Street (another example of legalised theft, by the way) as I happen to have a small notebook size laptop in my bag. It is the contents of one’s luggage, and where it ends up, that brings me to my next observation. The pool bag. In a distant past, this would have consisted of a two quid bottle of tanning oil, which offered a nice colour, but was of absolutely no use protection wise, a cheapo airport novel (as recommended by some cheapo columnist), a towel, hair brush (I did stress that it used to be) and probably very little else. Moving on, we now have a mobile phone, a fifteen
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quid bottle of tanning oil (unless you are in the Lake District, of course), an MP3 player (or similar device), some kind of iPad, a Kindle (on which to read said naff novel), a pair of decent headphones (costing anything from £10 - £100), hair products (Mrs Mott only) of varying prices, but all absolutely essential, apparently. Outcome: a pool bag that you bought from Primarni for £4.99 (because it has a unicorn on it) has between five hundred and a thousand pounds worth of kit inside it, lying in a pool of water beneath your sun-lounger. And finally, there is one more thing of very high value that an awful lot of people have on their person and in increasing numbers. Time to revisit the tattoo. Yes, the days of having a mere twenty five quid special with mum/dad/wife’s/ children’s name etc have long since passed. These days people are now walking around with a few thousand pounds worth of so called ‘body art’ literally on their person. I sat next to a lad on the return flight home who had some very fine artwork on the arm I could see. There were clearly more items in the planning, but you’re looking at around eight hundred quid for what was on show, and that was merely from his wrist up to his most substantial bicep. It’s a good job tats can’t be stolen in the way that most other things can, although I envisage a time in a few decades to come when some individuals may well wish that was indeed possible. Ironic, really, in so far as the main purpose of a holiday is to get away from it all and remove yourself from the things that seemingly burden you week in, week out. But no, we drag all of our kit around the world with us, in order to stay in touch. People used to go away to lose themselves, but in this modern age of location trackers on all our devices, there’s really no chance of ever being lost! ‘Yours aye’....
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Which made me lock the en-suite door whenever I took a shower, or nipped in for a quick pee for the remainder of the week. I also got outbid on the handbag, which I bet they did for spite. I thought they had had enough of me and it was all a bit of a joke, only for a week to pass before I was contacted (personally) once again, asking me as to why I had not yet taken up their offer?
TOTALLY TRACIE THE ILLUMINATI Have you ever wondered whether they really exist? Have you ever thought what it would be like to be part of the ‘New World Order’? ‘The Elite’. To rub shoulders with the movers and shakers. Well let me tell you how surprised I was to receive an invite to join the Illuminati pop into my Facebook messenger just the other day. I kind of expected, when my time came, that I would be visited by a tall, dark, suave stranger who would make me an offer I could not refuse - like the ones they made in ‘The Godfather’ movies. I also expected them to come promising me that all of my heart's desires could be mine, if I simply signed on the dotted line. I'd have shouted, “Give me the pen! Give it to me!” for a lifetimes' supply of Jimmy Choos. So you can imagine my utter shock to be asked to join and buy an ‘Illuminati Colouring Book’ as a show of my good faith. Problem is, I have no time to dress all in white and colour in bloody pictures. The New World Order? Sounds more like utter blooming chaos with thousands of people all colouring in their very own version of the Illuminati - the all seeing, all knowing eye, and arguing whose is the best. Blimey, there’d be no order at all. In fact, it would be just like our government at present sheer and utter chaos.
They also invited me to buy a pendant or a bracelet, so that others could recognise me as one with them as I ‘climbed the great pyramid’. So I replied saying: “Sorry, my days of climbing the corporate ladder are long gone.” These days I'm happy just to make it through each and every working day with a glass of prosecco and a box set to look forward to at the end of it. So when eventually the ‘New World Order’ comes, us chosen ones can all look forward to wearing white flowing robes and sharpening our amazing colouring pencils. But do read the reviews on Amazon for yourself though, about all the happy people out there who have joined.
ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE The latest buzz word in the social media world is all about Artificial Intelligence. You would be forgiven for thinking it refers to a lot of people who spout a load of hot air on Facebook and Instagram simply pretending to be intelligent, while the rest of us know them to be stupid. But no, it means that algorithms (whatever they are) will in the future scan our daily posts and will be able to spot whether we are suffering from depression by the use of markers and keywords that we write up to three months before we present symptoms. And this is just the start. In the future, they will be able to detect whether we are lying, feeling vulnerable, lonely, or suffering from PTSD. It all sounds a bit frightening, but they hope that they can feed information directly into our ‘care providers’ to keep us all well - if we can manage to get an appointment with our care provider, that is. If you can, we can no doubt look forward to the following: “Mrs Jones, please collect your prescription for antidepressants from the pharmacy.”
You ladies out there will no doubt remember when Carrie ‘Sex In The City’ Bradshaw was describing Big's sexual prowess in the bedroom with the aid of a colouring book. "He rarely stays within the lines," she said. Since then, no woman I know can ever look at a colouring book in quite the same light. The Illuminati pursued me relentlessly - 9 emails in one day at one point - telling me they wanted me to “become one with them”. But I’d had enough. I was trying to cook the tea and bid on a handbag on eBay at the very same time, so I threatened to expose them and BOOM, just like that, they disappeared. But not without the eerie warning: “We see everything, Tracie.” Page 30
“But doctor, I’m feeling very happy. I'm not depressed at all. In fact, I’ve just booked a holiday.” “Nonsense. We know otherwise. You are living in denial. You have been using words such as ‘me’ and ‘I’ on social media, which indicates you are isolating yourself and suffering from depression. Yours is a classic case if ever there was one.” Given that the Government has recommended that doctors prescribe more exercise to the sick - even those that are terminally ill - perhaps you should be careful what you write on your Facebook wall in future, or you may find yourself medicated and doing 20 laps of Hylands Park every day!
Tracie123@aol.com
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