About Mr Bonx

Latest News July 2007

Nice face, shame about the attitude

In Emmerdale the grotesque Val slobbers over your pint, while the bimbo count just keeps getting higher.

And I just can’t take the ('I fink nuffink abat it, init') conniving phyicos in skirts that stomp around Walford.

They say the TV mirrors society, so fellas I’ll see ya down the pub, if only to escape the girlfriend from hell for an hour.

Summerford Barn

Many years ago a gang of us would set off on our mountain bikes down a disused railway line to the sleepy village of Withyham, and spend the night swilling hundreds of pints of Harvey’s beer in the local pub. www.dorset-arms.co.uk
As we were a friendly bunch and like to have a laugh the governor at the time got used to the weekly summer invasion of long haired oiks playing guitars and smoking those ‘funny smelling cigarettes’ in the garden.

Hey, Nice grass...!

After nearly drinking the pub dry and feasting on mars bars and crisps we dragged our unsteady carcasses a short stagger down a country lane, passed a place called ‘Balls Green’ ( I kid you not ) and headed up the old railway line to an old barn I had found on one of my many long rides.
It was practically falling down but with big bails of straw we made a comfy sleeping area, and cracked open more supplies of booze from our very heavy backpacks.

The Dorset Arms, Withyham.

With very strict rules about smoking (yes we did have a continence) we partied long and hard into the night and luckily the barn being miles from anywhere sang and slurred into the early hours.
I can remember looking up through bleary eyes at one of the big main beams and thinking as I curled up to my girl Carolyn in the sleeping bag that this would such make a cool house.




The morning hangovers were quickly replenished with a dip in the river Medway which ran about 10ft away, the cold and fast water certainly cleared the cobwebs and dust from our ears and nose - more »

Moving on about 10 years, a woman in our group of friends happened to mention her parents had brought an old barn: to convert it into a house. It was Summerford Barn.




Years of painstaking work were carried out at great cost.
We were invited to the house (barn) warming party and after a few beers at the Dorset (minus the funny cigarettes) we headed of to see the conversion.



And it was magnificent.

Inevitably we had quite a few drinks so we were invited to stay the night in one of the master bedrooms.

My new Girlfriend and I climbed into the crisp white sheets giggling like kids and as I laid back and looked up, obviously I had to look over Susie who had now jumped on me: there was that big old wooden main beam… we were in almost the same spot. It was so weird to be lying there all these years later, and not having straw and dust getting in every crevice.

Luxury anyone?

So the barn is up for sale again, for a rather hefty price tag of £1,500,000……!

Details available from www.lanefox.co.uk

Its funny how sometimes life repeats itself, now all I’ve got to do is sell a few zillion records, a couple of Trillion books and you might just be getting an invite one day.

Oh, and its custom that you must jump into the river at midnight, naked and screaming like a mad person…

All the very best,

Mr B..x.

Click to see the July 2007 rant!! »